Lin was already intimately familiar with exhaustion; Republic City never stopped producing problems. There was always another fight, another mystery to figure out, another crisis waiting around the corner.

Normally, she carried it. That was what she did; she carried the weight of things like a second shadow. Responsibilities, expectations, failures, other people's mistakes. She carried them because somebody had to. And because somewhere along the way, she had convinced herself that if she stopped carrying everything, there would be nothing left of her.

It was easier that way. Easier to be useful than to be vulnerable. Easier to be needed than to need someone else.

For most of her life, Lin had learned to rely on exactly one person: herself. Whenever things fell apart, whenever people disappointed her, or relationships fractured under the weight of expectations and hurt, she was the one left standing in the aftermath.

So she adapted. She became self-sufficient, independent. Untouchable.

At least, that was what she told herself.

The truth was that loneliness had become so familiar that she no longer knew what to do without it.

Empty apartments, solitary dinners, long nights spent carrying the weight of the city with nobody to share it with—they had become routine. Truthfully, Lin hated being alone, but after enough years, solitude sometimes still felt safer than the alternative. Safer than hoping someone would stay. And if she occasionally felt the ache of that loneliness settling somewhere deep inside her chest, well, she buried that too. Just another weight to carry.

The thought loomed like the dark clouds in the sky above her as she sat behind her desk late that evening. The station was quieter now. Most officers had already gone home; only the night shift remained.

The city lights glowed through the office windows. Stacks of paperwork sat untouched in front of her.

Lin rubbed her eyes. Her head hurt from the stress of the week. Her shoulders hurt from the exertion of today. The beat of her heart hurt against her ribcage as it asked to be somewhere else. Everything hurt. But she should stay and finish the reports, get ahead of tomorrow.

That was what the old version of her would have done. The version that had gone home to an empty apartment and ate dinner alone. The version that sat awake at night, staring at the ceiling because nobody was waiting for her, nobody who cared if she came home safe or not. Nobody who would notice if she stayed at the office until after midnight.

Her chest tightened unexpectedly. Lin looked away from the paperwork.

Her gaze drifted across her desk instead. Most of it was exactly what anyone would expect from Chief Beifong's office; reports, files, a nameplate with the title she'd earned, nothing personal.

Almost nothing.

Tucked discreetly near the corner of her desk sat a small framed portrait. Easy to miss unless someone was looking for it. And it was new enough that Lin sometimes surprised herself when she looked in its direction and spotted it there.

Lin's eyes lingered on it now. The photograph had been taken merely two weeks ago. You and she stood side by side, neither of you looking directly at the camera. You were laughing at something just outside the frame; and despite herself, Lin had been caught smiling, too. A genuine smile, at that. The kind that rarely appeared in photographs. The frame was small enough that visitors seldom noticed it, and Lin preferred it that way. She wasn't particularly interested in advertising her personal life to the entire police force. Still, seeing it there made something warm stir beneath the exhaustion.

There was somebody, now. For the first time in a long time, Lin would be lying if she said she was alone.

The thought came easily. Dangerously easily. A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, even though cold worry and hesitance twisted in her stomach.

Korra had introduced you to Lin over a year ago. At first, you had simply been another member of her circle. Another young woman constantly getting involved in situations that raised Lin's blood pressure, another person who somehow kept finding reasons to show up in her life.

And then you kept showing up. Again, and again, and again.

Until one day Lin realized she looked for you in every room she entered. Realized that conversations felt easier with you. Realized she was staying places longer because you were there.

It had terrified her. Firstly because you were considerably younger than her, and that detail had kept Lin awake more nights than she cared to admit. But you were also, for lack of better wording, a damn ray of sunshine. Lin could barely remember a day when you didn't have a smile on your face, or when you didn't have a positive view of even the worst of situations. There was also a calmness and ease that followed you wherever you went, and that very feeling called to Lin like the sun called to the earth.

Lin had spent months trying to convince herself the feelings blossoming inside her chest were not real. Months dissecting every interaction afterward, searching for some reasonable explanation for why you lingered in her thoughts long after you two had parted ways. She told herself it was admiration, perhaps. Friendship. Familiarity. Anything but what it actually was.

Months, reminding herself how ridiculous it was. Every time Lin caught herself looking for you in a crowd, every time she found herself wanting to hear your laugh or tell you about her day, Lin immediately buried the feeling beneath layers of logic and excuses.

Lin spent months finding reasons to ignore it. Throwing herself deeper into work. Keeping conversations brief when she wanted them to last longer. Pretending the warmth she felt whenever you smiled at her wasn't there at all. Yet no matter how many excuses she came up with, the feelings remained, ever so stubborn and persistent, quietly growing in all the spaces where Lin tried hardest not to look.

She came with enough emotional baggage to sink a ferry. And you deserved someone easier, someone lighter, just like you. Someone who didn't have decades of scars, of unresolved hurt on her shoulders. But feelings, unfortunately, did not care about logic.

And somehow, you had chosen her anyway. Not because of her reputation, her accomplishments, or the metal badge she wore on her chest every day. You had seen all of those things, certainly. You knew exactly who Lin was; you knew about the years of service, the stubbornness, the sharp tongue, the walls around her heart that seemed impossible to climb. And somehow none of that had mattered or deterred you.

You had chosen the woman underneath it all. The woman who drank her tea too hot and pretended not to enjoy quiet evenings; the woman who grumbled whenever someone worried about her but secretly remembered every small kindness shown to her; the woman who carried too much and asked for too little.

You had chosen the woman who refused to leave your side when you walked into danger together. The woman who kept a steady hand on the small of your back whenever she walked you home at night. The woman who sent threatening glares at anyone who dared speak rudely to you.

Just Lin. That's the one you had chosen.

And the idea still made Lin's head spin sometimes.

She stared at the paperwork resting in front of her for another minute. Then sighed heavily. Before she could talk herself out of it, she stood.

She turned off the lights, grabbed her coat, and left.

──•◎•──

The trip to your apartment felt longer than usual. By the time she arrived, darkness had settled completely over the city. Streetlights reflected off slick pavement, turning the roads into ribbons of gold and orange.

The night air was cold and sharp. Lin hadn't bothered bringing an umbrella; she rarely did. Now, rain droplets clung to her hair and darkened the fabric of her long wool coat.

Your apartment complex was quiet at this time of night; the only sounds echoing in the hallways were Lin's steps. She brought her hands close to her face, blowing hot air on them in a sorry attempt to warm her fingers. The edges of her sleeves were damp, and a few stray raindrops still slid down her face as she climbed the stairs.

When she finally reached your door, Lin stood outside it for several seconds. Suddenly uncertain, even if she had been here many times before.

Yet somehow tonight she felt awkward. Her shoulders were stiff beneath her coat, one hand lingering uselessly at her side while the other flexed and curled into a loose fist. Her gaze fixed stubbornly on the dark wooden door instead of allowing herself to think too hard about why she was hesitating.

Something about the awful week and the exhaustion made her feel like she was showing up with every crack in her armor visible.

Eventually, she forced her hand up and knocked. The door opened almost immediately. And there you were; dark red pajamas already on, only half of your long hair tied back loosely, and wearing the polar bear dog slippers Korra had gotten for you on your last birthday.

Your expression brightened instantly the moment you opened the door. The smile that appeared on your face was warm and genuine, the kind that always seemed to greet Lin even before a single word was spoken. For a brief second, seeing it eased something tight in her chest.

Then, the smile faded into something gentler. Something concerned. Your eyes moved over Lin's face, carefully taking in details she hadn't intended to advertise—the exhaustion she couldn't quite hide, the start of tears gathering in her green eyes, the heaviness in her posture.

You didn't make a show of it; you simply noticed. Your head leaned softly to the side as your eyes glinted with something bittersweet, as if you could feel Lin's pain simply by being close to her.

Lin never understood how you managed it. Most people saw Chief Beifong first. They saw the armor, the reputation, the walls she'd spent decades building around herself. You always seemed to look straight through all of that; straight to her. And part of Lin felt guilty for it sometimes, because you shouldn't have to carry a burden that wasn't yours.

Before she could find some excuse to leave, however, Lin felt your hand reaching for hers. In a gesture that came as easy as breathing, you intertwined your fingers with hers; your skin was ever so warm against Lin's cold hand. Goosebumps rose on Lin's skin, and she almost broke down right then and there.

You always did that; you always found a way to bring her back to you. Lin felt faint with the way you loved her.

"Hey," you took half a step closer, holding her hand more firmly. "I almost drove to the station to pick you up myself."

Lin attempted a smile. It came out awkward and crooked. "Sorry, didn't realize it was getting so late."

"That's alright," you whispered, something tender, just for her to hear. "I was just worried."

The way you said it, as if worrying about her was such a familiar feeling to you, gripped Lin's heart tight and didn't let go. She didn't know what to do with herself when you offered so easily something she'd craved like a starved thing.

She focused back on you, not looking at you but rather feeling the ridges and lines of your palm that was connected to hers. The way your thumb traced over hers. "I'm… here now." Lin heard the tremor in her own voice, and she hated it.

"Come on, I was just about to make tea." You nodded back towards your home, already tugging her to come with you.

Lin hesitated only for the briefest moment before crossing the threshold with you, allowing the door to close with a soft click behind her.

The familiar apartment greeted her immediately. Soft lamplight spilled across the room, casting everything in a warm golden glow. The scent of tea lingered faintly in the air, mixed with something sweet you must have baked earlier. A blanket was draped carelessly over the couch, a book left open on the coffee table where you had apparently been reading just before Lin arrived. It looked lived in, safe and warm.

Slowly, you let go of her hand, and Lin's heart stumbled in her chest as if suddenly forgetting how to work if your touch wasn't there.

You seemed to read her mind, or maybe her face had been a mirror of her emotions. Either way, you reassured her, "I'll be right back," before stepping into your small kitchen.

Lin watched you go despite herself. She always did.

You moved through your apartment with an easy confidence that Lin found endlessly fascinating. You were younger than her, softer in ways Lin had never allowed herself to be; yet there was a quiet steadiness to you that never failed to draw Lin in. Gentle eyes, warm hands, an expression that always seemed to hold more understanding than judgment. You weren't imposing or intimidating; you didn't command a room the way Lin did. And yet somehow, whenever you were present, Lin found herself gravitating completely toward you all the same.

You hummed to yourself as you put water to boil, reaching into the cabinets for two mugs—a matching pair, one adorned with a white cat, the other with a black one.

In the meantime, Lin lazily shrugged out of her coat. The weight of the day settled more insistently on her; every part of her felt worn thin. And standing there in your apartment, surrounded by softness and familiarity, she realized just how badly she had needed somewhere to go.

The evening settled into something quiet. Rain tapped steadily against the apartment windows, a soft, constant rhythm that filled the spaces between the silence. Outside, the city was blurred by sheets of water and reflected streetlights. The late hours between one day and the next wrapped the apartment in a cocoon of warmth and muted sound. Inside, everything felt slower, gentler, insulated from the demands waiting beyond the glass.

Lin removed her armor piece by piece. Metal plates, belt, bracers. Each piece landed softly beside the door. By the end, she felt oddly exposed. Smaller somehow. Still hovering awkwardly in the middle of your living room, now only in a thin long-sleeve shirt and loose pants.

A few minutes later, you finally returned, carrying tea. Steam curled from the mugs.

Lin accepted hers with a grateful hum, wrapping both hands around the warm ceramic. The heat seeped into her palms immediately, chasing away some of the chill that had settled into her during the long day.

When you walked towards the couch and sat down, Lin followed close behind. The cushions dipped slightly beneath your combined weight, familiar now after so many evenings spent like this.

No space was left between you when Lin took her place beside you; her shoulder pressed securely against yours. She sipped her tea after softly blowing the steam away. The knot in her shoulders eased slightly. For several beats, comfortable silence wrapped around you like a blanket. Lin grounded herself in the feeling of your presence beside her, willing away the worry of how quickly she'd come to crave it. She caught those moments like one catches sunlight between clouds.

Eventually, you set your mug down on the coffee table in front of you.

Lin could feel the familiar weight of your eyes on her, watching. Then, your touch gently found her hairline; a tender thing, your fingers carefully brushing away stray strands of her hair just so you could find her eyes a little easier.

The tone of your voice came even softer; "You had a bad day."

Lin huffed, avoiding your eyes despite the shiver that ran down her back at your touch. "A bad week."

You nodded. No surprise or attempt to fix it, just acceptance. The simplicity of it made something ache inside of Lin.

"We don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to." Your touch lingered near her cheek, just shy of brushing over her scars.

Lin looked down at her mug with a pained frown. Part of her wanted to. Part of her wanted to unload everything; the stress, the exhaustion, the constant feeling that if she stopped holding everything together for even a second, it would all fall apart.

But another part of her resisted. The familiar part; the one that insisted weakness was dangerous, that vulnerability got people hurt, and that needing people was a mistake.

So she stayed silent.

And you, somehow, understood. Without another word, you slowly took the mug from Lin's hand, placing it down right beside yours on the table—and she let you, because she feared you could disarm her with a mere look. Then, you shifted closer to her again. There was no hesitation in the movement, just a quiet certainty that tugged at Lin's heartstrings.

Lin's eyes were a pool of soft green as she watched, as if underwater, as you slipped one arm around her shoulders. Warm and steady. Then the other followed, going around her waist, wrapping around her completely.

You pulled Lin gently towards you, close until you couldn't tell where your body ended or hers began, and just held her with the reassurance you knew she needed.

The simple intimacy of it struck Lin with startling force. For a moment she could only sit there, frozen and with a stumbling breath, painfully aware of the warmth surrounding her; of the steady rise and fall of your breathing pressed against her; of the fact that someone had reached for her instead of waiting for her to hold herself together on her own.

It felt unfamiliar. Dangerously unfamiliar. And beneath that unfamiliarity was something even more frightening.

How badly Lin needed it.

The reaction was immediate, instinctive. Years of walls rising automatically. Her body went rigid, her throat tightened, her arms hovered awkwardly around you without actually touching you. Because Lin couldn't remember the last time someone had held her like this; how long it had been since she had allowed anyone close enough to try.

An entire lifetime spent carrying herself through the lonely nights patching herself up after a hard day; through the birthdays spent pretending she didn't care if no one remembered; through the constant sense that everyone else had somewhere they belonged while she remained standing just outside the door.

And now, your arms were around her; a constant pressure carefully mending each broken part of her. Holding her as though staying was the easiest thing in the world. As though Lin wasn't too difficult or too damaged; and she was worth loving exactly as she was.

Something in her chest tightened, caught somewhere between fear and longing. Her eyes burned. Tears clung to her eyelashes, causing her vision to become a blurry mess as her chin wobbled when the last of her composure began to crack.

No, absolutely not. Lin Beifong did not cry.

But your cheek rested lightly against Lin's temple. Your thumb moved in slow, absent circles against her side, brushing against the skin of her waist where her shirt had ridden up. As if there was nowhere else you needed or wanted to be.

The first tear slipped free, rolling gently down Lin's cheek, tracing a path over her scars. It fell against the skin of your neck, yet you simply held her tighter. And that only made another tear fall, then another.

Lin swallowed hard, feeling as if barbed wire wrapped around her throat as small sobs began to shake her shoulders. Years of believing love had to be earned, that attention had to be earned, that care had to be earned. And you were dismantling all of it simply by holding her.

The tears came faster now. The first few slipped down her cheeks silently, disappearing into the fabric of your shirt before Lin even realized she was crying in earnest. She squeezed her eyes shut, jaw clenched so tightly it hurt, as if she could somehow force the emotions back down where they belonged.

"It's okay," you whispered, like a kiss right beside Lin's ear. One hand rubbed slow circles against her back as you nuzzled closer into her. "You don't have to hold it together right now."

"I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." Your lips brushed against her skin. She felt the shape of your words, "I promise."

The gentleness in your voice undid her all over again. And Lin finally let herself fall completely against you.

Her forehead brushed your shoulder for a brief moment before she let the weight of her head settle there. The contact sent another painful wave of emotion through her chest; she hadn't realized how exhausted she was until she no longer had to hold herself upright alone. One of her hands twisted into the fabric of your shirt, fingers curling tightly and nearly ripping fabric as though she needed something solid to anchor herself to. The other came up a moment later, gripping around your waist with surprising strength and desperation; as if the mere thought of you pulling away frightened her.

Until she was buried entirely against you. Until she was clinging to you. Ungraceful and with the quiet, aching need of someone who had spent far too many years carrying solitude like a second shadow.

Lin's shoulders trembled beneath your arms. A strangled sound escaped her throat—half breath, half sob—as she buried her face deeper against your shoulder. The tears continued to fall; hot and relentless and messy, soaking into your shirt.

For the first time in years, Lin stopped pretending she was fine.

With your heart beating out of your chest for her, your hand moved into her hair. Careful so as not to break the fragile moment. Your fingers slipped through the strands at the back of Lin's head, smoothing them gently before repeating the motion again. There was nothing hurried about it, no attempt to soothe her quickly or make the tears stop. You simply stayed with her, your hand moving in quiet, steady passes through her hair, each touch deliberate and reassuring.

The gesture was unbelievably tender. Lin couldn't remember the last time someone had touched her like this, as if she mattered enough to deserve this softness.

The feeling sent another crack through the crumbling walls around a heart that beat in the rhythm of your name. Every slow stroke seemed to loosen something knotted deep inside her chest, unraveling tension she hadn't even realized she was carrying.

Lin found herself leaning automatically into your touch, seeking it out before she could stop herself. She needed you, more than she had ever needed anything else in her life. And slowly, Lin realized the feeling wasn't unwelcome.

Your hand remained at the back of her head, fingertips lightly tracing and burying through her hair before settling there for a moment, cradling her gently against you. You closed your eyes, breathing her in and feeling how she let herself fall into you so completely. Just like hers, something inside your chest eased at last; a part of you that had been aching to kiss over the scars that marked Lin's soul.

And kiss you did, as your lips easily brushed against her temple. You lingered there a moment longer, like sealing a promise.

"I've got you."

Lin replayed your voice in her mind like a prayer. More tears slipped free, and this time she didn't try to stop them. She merely nuzzled closer into your embrace, listening to your heartbeat until her own heart matched the rhythm of yours as if they were made to work in eternal synchrony.

And for the first time in a very long time, Lin allowed herself to believe something she had never quite trusted before. Maybe she didn't have to carry everything alone anymore; maybe someone had finally chosen her.

And maybe it was worth falling, so long as you're there to catch her every time.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆･

Lin’s taglist is open, let me know if you’d like to be added. Or you can follow @talesofesther-library and turn notifications on to know when I’ve posted a new story/chapter.

Thank you for reading this story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

It started small. Toph had always hated unnecessary closeness; or at least that was what she claimed. She cursed at people for crowding her, shoved Sokka away when he got too dramatic, and threatened to bury Aang waist-deep in dirt if he fussed over her one more time.

And yet lately, you kept finding Toph near you. Not casually or accidentally; close in a way that felt deliberate, planned. When you walked together, Toph somehow always drifted until her shoulder brushed your arm. When you sat down to eat, Toph dropped beside you with natural insistence, knees touching and sometimes her leg even resting atop yours. When Appa flew, Toph sat close enough that your bodies remained pressed together through most of the ride; she leaned her weight against you as if you were steadier than the saddle.

At first, you thought nothing of it, thought that maybe you were imagining it, even if it got your heart jumping into your mouth each time. Then, you felt Toph's fingers hook loosely into the fabric of your sleeve while you walked one afternoon. She held on for a while, until changing her grip to your wrist, and eventually, loosely tangling her fingers with yours.

You had nearly smiled yourself silly. That was no accident.

Toph, of course, acted like she had done nothing. She could sense the somersaults of your heartbeat while she held your hand, and a proud grin stretched her lips. “Got something to say, sweetness?” she asked, only for you to hear.

You shook your head softly, blaming the sunlight for the warmth on your cheeks. “Nope.”

Toph swung your joined hands back and forth. “Hmph.”

That should have been the end of it. Instead, it got worse. Or better. Depending on whom you ask.

Sokka, ever observant, was the first to notice.

Evening had settled on their camp for the night. The sky was painted in a mix of purples, blues, and oranges. Crickets could be heard on the surrounding grass, and during dinner, Sokka narrowed his eyes across the crackling fire.

Still munching on his food, he not-so-sneakily leaned over to his sister sitting just beside him. “Okay,” he said in a whisper, gesturing toward you and Toph across from him. “What's been going on with those two?”

Katara hummed curiously, and her eyes slowly followed where her brother had pointed. You sat on the dry dirt, leaning back on both your hands, and Toph had all but thrown herself onto you, her head leaning comfortably against your shoulder and one of her hands resting atop your raised knee as she talked, and you nodded along.

“What do you mean?” Katara teased, a small, knowing smile already on her lips.

Sokka threw her a comically wide-eyed look, “What do you mean what do I mean?” His voice rose in pitch; “Toph hasn't let go of her since we made camp.”

“I'm not holding onto anybody.” Toph's voice cut through the quiet, loud enough to be heard over the fire. When the eyes of everyone fell onto her, she had the largest smirk on her lips, chin raised proudly as she made no effort to move away from you. The hand she had resting on your knee squeezed once.

All you could muster was to focus your eyes down on the burning fire as you bit the inside of your cheek so hard it nearly drew blood. Toph was a solid, warm presence against your body, and it nearly got you dizzy. And acknowledging it out loud made you even more aware of it.

Sokka huffed, yet an amused smile broke the fake annoyance. He crossed his arms over his chest and wiggled his eyebrows even if Toph couldn't see it. “If you two have anything to share with the class, I'm all ears.”

Katara gently shoved her brother's shoulder, biting back a chuckle of her own; “Just leave them be, Sokka.”

Toph snorted. “You know I hate gossip.”

That was all anyone would get out of her. And somehow, Toph became even less subtle after that. As though once people started noticing, she had simply decided she didn't care. And maybe she didn't. Toph had never been good at pretending to be something she wasn't. If she wanted you close, she wanted you close. End of discussion.

That night, the camp settled into silence. The fire burned low, reduced to glowing embers and soft warmth against the chill. Appa snored nearby, with Momo sprawled on top of his fluffy fur. Someone—probably Sokka—mumbled incoherently in his sleep.

You were snuggled in blankets, half asleep, drifting in that soft place between dreaming and waking. Listening to the gentle lullaby of a night under the stars.

Then, you felt movement. Soft and careful. A familiar presence crossing the earth with feather-light steps only possible for someone who understood every vibration beneath her feet.

Before you could fully wake, warm fingers slipped beneath your blanket; you felt the touch on your waist first, bordering on tentative before it grew bolder. A warm hand sneaking beneath your shirt, feeling the shape of your waist, while your blankets ruffled and the weight of a familiar presence settled close beside you. Then came the kisses. Light, tender, sleepy little brushes of lips against your cheek. Those lips lingered there before moving to your jaw, and then lazily traced a path to the corner of your mouth.

Your eyes finally fluttered open. And Toph was already there, curled into your space. One arm wrapped tightly around your waist, skin to skin, pulling you close with startling possessiveness. Her body pressed firmly against yours like she had no intention of leaving even an inch between you two.

A sound escaped your lips, half a sleepy groan and half a lovesick chuckle. The faint light of the fire was enough for you to make out a vague image of Toph; the orange light softly highlighted the muscles of her bare arm, and her hair had been pulled completely free of her usual bun, now falling messily around her face and over your small pillow.

On the next heartbeat, Toph tucked her face against your neck. Her breathing was warm, her lips brushing over your pulse point and placing a sloppy kiss there. Quiet. Needy.

You blinked, feeling a shiver go up and down your whole body when the sensation of her mouth on you got your breath running shallow. “Toph…?”

Toph only tightened her hold. As if waking you had been necessary solely so you could consciously hold her back. Both her arms snaked around your waist, holding you with the sort of strength only she could pull off.

Your expression softened immediately, a shaky sigh finding its way past your lips. You slowly slid both arms around Toph, careful not to rustle the blankets too much or wake the others. One of your hands found her hair, burying itself in between the dark strands as you selfishly leaned in; your lips brushed over her hairline, and you breathed her in.

Toph melted. Actually melted. Her entire body loosened the moment you embraced her, though she remained firmly attached, one leg slipping in between yours as if anchoring herself there.

You felt a smile tug further at your lips. You brushed Toph's hair back, fingertips gentle against her scalp as you reciprocated the gesture, pulling her tighter into your embrace. “What's gotten into you lately?” you whispered, nothing but a breath against her skin.

Toph didn't answer right away. She burrowed closer instead. Her nose brushed your neck, tracing a path from your pulse point to right under your ear. One hand clutched at the back of your shirt, bunching the fabric; the other pressed half moons into your skin.

For someone who projected so much iron and stone to the world, moments like this always felt almost shocking. Toph could be so soft. So desperate for closeness. So quietly vulnerable sometimes.

Finally, Toph mumbled into your skin, voice rough with sleep and something rawer beneath it. “I jus' wanna be with you.”

The words were so simple. So unguarded that your heart clenched in your chest. Toph rarely asked for anything directly. Need, especially, was something she usually buried under sarcasm, teasing, or stubborn silence.

But not tonight. Now she was here, wrapped around you like she needed the reassurance of warmth and touch and presence.

You brushed your fingers along the extent of her bare arm, until you found her neck, and then the corner of her jaw. You swiped your thumb over the skin there. “I'm right here,” you promised in a hush.

Toph exhaled shakily. Her mouth hanging open against your neck and her warm breathing fanning over your collarbone. Her fingers loosened against your back the slightest bit.

Your hand on her jaw gently guided her up until you could press a kiss between her eyebrows, then another over her eyelids, then one to her temple.

Toph tilted her face upward and grumbled softly, despite the smile tugging at her lips. “You're being mushy.”

Your nose bumped hers when you mimicked her smile. “And you woke me up for cuddles.”

A pause. Toph's breathing stumbled audibly with a soft gasp when she felt how close you were. Her fingers dug a little more insistently into your skin when her mouth parted with quiet yearning. “… Maybe.” The word fell clumsily past her lips.

The most formidable earthbender she may be, but she crumbled like sand under your touch.

At last, you caught her lips with yours, barely muffling the soft moan that escaped Toph. Both your hands held onto her jaw, tangling with her long hair as the feel of her skin beneath your palms and the softness of her lips moving against yours got you utterly intoxicated.

Toph, in turn, pulled you painfully close. Her strong arms around your body allowed not even air to come between you; her fingers pressed against your spine, leaving gentle marks there as telltales of her need. Her nose pressed into your cheek as she kissed you, trying to come as close as physically possible. She caught your lower lip between both of hers, softly brushing her teeth over it before soothing with her tongue.

The kiss deepened by instinct rather than intention, a careful surrender neither of you had exactly planned. It was not hungry in the sharp, obvious sense. It was fuller than that. Slower, a little sloppy as you learned each other's shapes for the first time. It held the pressure of all the almosts that had gathered between you for weeks; the shared silences, the sidelong glances, the touches that had grown bolder and bolder because neither could have enough of the other.

Toph kissed you as though she had been trying not to for too many days, and the restraint had finally broken in the most beautiful possible way.

In the darkness, with everyone else asleep and the world quiet around you, Toph allowed herself to simply cling to you. Allowed her hands to roam over your body unabashedly. No walls, no sharp words, no armor. Just her claiming what was hers.

Eventually, after what felt like too long and not long enough of unhurried kisses, you felt Toph's breathing slowly begin to deepen. She fought it, but sleep gradually pulled her under.

And even asleep, Toph refused to loosen her grip on you. A grin came to your lips, still sensitive, as you felt the ghost of Toph's kisses. You adjusted your arm under her, bringing her head to rest over your shoulder.

Toph groaned sleepily when you shifted; her arm instinctively tightened. Possessive, even unconscious. You suppressed a soft laugh, rubbing slow circles into Toph's back and bringing the blankets closer around your tangled bodies, until sleep began to claim you, too.

The last thing you felt before drifting off was Toph nuzzling faintly into your neck, seeking warmth even in dreams. As though her body knew only one thing with absolute certainty.

Here. With you. This was where she wanted to be.

The next morning, you and Toph were rudely woken up by a ridiculously loud shout of Sokka's voice: “I KNEW IT!”

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆･

Toph’s taglist is open, let me know if you’d like to be added. Or you can follow @talesofesther-library and turn notifications on to know when I’ve posted a new story/chapter.

Thank you for reading this story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

But then you remembered the day you'd had, the pressure of it still lying on your shoulders, and the lump in your throat returned so fiercely you weren't sure you could make yourself walk anywhere else. So you stepped inside at last.

The familiar bustle of the station washed over you immediately—telephones ringing, officers exchanging reports, metal cables clinking as metalbenders moved equipment across the room. Conversations overlapped into a constant hum, purposeful and alive.

Mako was the first to notice you hovering by the doors; he'd been hunched over his desk, frowning at a large map of the city. He straightened and smiled upon spotting you. He called your name, giving a small wave, "Nice to see you."

"Hey, Mako," you returned the gesture as you walked up to him, though your smile didn't quite reach your eyes.

"Is everything okay?" He moved around his desk, coming to stand before you with a hint of concern in his eyes.

"Oh… yeah," you chuckled awkwardly, bringing your hand to the back of your neck in an instinctive gesture when you heard how unconvincing you sounded. "I'm just here to see Lin."

Mako raised a brow at you, but didn't press further. His smile became more sympathetic. "Of course, she's in her office." He gestured to the door a few steps behind him.

You nodded slowly, fidgeting with your hands and holding a staring contest with the metal door, the only thing separating you from Lin. You shifted your attention back to Mako with a blink and a clear of your throat, "But only if she isn't busy."

Mako merely shrugged his shoulders, "I think she's only going over some paperwork." He then promptly placed a hand on your back and tugged you along to walk beside him, "Come on, it's a slow day today."

You took the few steps with bated breath, feeling the telltale of tears starting to gather in the corners of your eyes. You hadn't cried all day. Not during the meeting, not after the third impossible deadline had been dropped on your desk, not when two weeks of careful engineering calculations had been rendered useless because someone higher up had approved the wrong shipment of materials despite your repeated warnings, and not even when one of the project supervisors had subtly implied that maybe you "weren't cut out" to oversee reconstruction if you couldn't adapt.

You had swallowed every word. Smiled and nodded, promising you'd fix it. Then spent the rest of the afternoon trying to salvage a project that wasn't even your mistake.

By the time you'd finally left work, you'd felt hollow. Not angry. Just… truly exhausted. Like every ounce of strength you'd started the morning with had slowly leaked out of you.

And somehow, without consciously deciding, your feet had carried you here. To Lin.

Mako pushed open the door to Lin's office. You heard the familiar sound of her voice asking what he wanted, and Mako simply opened the door further, nodding to you once you came into view, "Someone's here to see you, Chief."

Lin softened the moment her eyes landed on you; her lips parted the slightest bit, and her green eyes glinted with something that belonged only to you. The pen she'd been holding between her fingers quietly fell against the small stack of papers on her desk.

With a final gentle push from Mako's hand on your back, you stepped into her office. Both your hands clutched at the strap of your satchel, and you gave her a tight-lipped smile. Once you heard the metal door close again behind you, your voice came softly, "Hi, Lin."

And Lin spoke your name with such care that you nearly broke down then and there. She pushed herself up from her desk, stepping around in one quick motion as her eyes skimmed worriedly up and down your body, searching for any sign you might not be okay.

"I'm alright," you spoke with the reassurance you knew she needed, allowing for a small smile to find your lips. You took half a step closer, extending your hand into the space between you.

Lin closed the gap and took your offered hand in her own. The gesture was still relatively new for both of you, yet her fingers fit snugly in between yours, her grip tight and present. But the moment she really looked at you, everything else disappeared. The concern reached her eyes almost instantly. "What happened?"

That simple question almost undid you. "I'm sorry," you blurted, feeling heat creeping up your neck and into your cheeks. "I know you're working, I just…" Your voice cracked, and you averted your eyes to Lin's boots instead. "I didn't know where else to go."

"My shift's almost over." The words were immediate, gentle. So gentle they almost didn't sound like Lin. She took another step closer, lowering her head to try and catch your gaze. "You don't have to apologize."

You groaned, bringing your free hand up to rub at your temple. "I feel ridiculous."

Lin squeezed your hand, "Stop."

"I just…" You laughed weakly through the tightness in your throat. "Today just kept getting worse and worse, and I tried to handle it myself, but then I left work, and suddenly all I could think about was finding you." The air had nearly left your lungs completely once you were done talking. You tried to blink away the tears blurring your sight and causing Lin's shape to blend with the soft glow of the lamp on her desk.

A quiet exhale fell past Lin's lips, and she closed her free hand into a fist. Undeniably, she was still getting used to the feeling of having her heart beat out of her chest for you. Still, something warm settled behind her normally stern eyes. She reached out, opening her arms and simultaneously tugging you in. Slowly and hesitantly, as if she wasn't sure this was the right move to make, and giving you every chance to step away.

Instead, you eagerly closed the remaining distance yourself. The hug happened almost naturally. Lin's arms wrapped around you with surprising strength; firm, protective, and steady. One hand settled against the back of your head while the other rested securely between your shoulder blades.

The warmth of Lin's hand seeped into your skin as her fingers buried in your hair and clutched at the fabric of your shirt. "I'm right here," Lin murmured quietly, her lips brushing your ear.

You buried your face against the front of Lin's uniform, squeezing her body tighter against yours. It smelled faintly of polished metal, and the jasmine tea Lin practically survived on during long shifts. Safe. It felt safe.

The two of you stayed like that for several long moments. Outside, the sounds of Republic City settled into a distant hum. Streetlights turned on as the sky grew increasingly darker, and the sharp edges of the world morphed into something softer

Eventually, Lin gently pulled away from you just enough so she could place a careful hand against your cheek. The pad of her thumb pressed over the damp path of a few tears you'd let escape. Lin brushed the skin there, tracing her touch over your cheekbones. "Tell me."

You closed your eyes, leaning deeper into her hand. "It was work."

Lin nodded once. She had expected as much. The hand that still rested on your waist settled more firmly there.

"They approved the wrong shipment despite everything I told them. Then somehow it became my responsibility to fix everything before the inspectors arrive next week." You swallowed hard. "I spent the whole day trying to solve a problem I didn't even create."

Lin's jaw tightened. Her brows furrowed as her protectiveness over you settled over her like a second shadow. "And then?"

You shrugged weakly, opening your eyes to look at her through your lashes. "My supervisor implied maybe I wasn't capable enough for the position." Your voice came as nothing but a defeated whisper.

Silence. A dangerous silence. The kind that usually meant Lin was trying very hard not to march somewhere and arrest someone for being an idiot. Her lips pursed into a tight line, and the sharpness of her features shifted into that look that you'd seen her throw at criminals sitting in interrogation rooms.

You couldn't help smiling faintly, the shape of your cheek shifting under Lin's palm.

Lin noticed. She tried fighting back a smile of her own and failed. "…What?"

You reached up, pushing a loose wave of her hair back behind her ear with a tender touch. "I know that face."

"I'm not making a face," Lin grumbled, raising a brow at you. Goosebumps rose on her skin when your hand touched her so intimately and lingered near her jaw.

You hummed, your smile widening and shifting into a smirk, "You look like you're mentally planning someone's sentence."

"They'd deserve it for saying something so stupid." Lin scoffed.

That pulled a tiny laugh from you. Small and fragile. But real, with your eyes briefly closing when your smile finally reached them.

And Lin's shoulders visibly relaxed the moment she heard it. "That's better." She couldn't remember the last time she cared about someone to the extent she cares about you. It felt almost painful sometimes, to look at you and feel like her heart had jumped out of her chest only to land on your hands.

"I knew all I needed was you." The words fell as nothing but a breath past your lips. Your hand came to hold onto Lin's own, which she still had pressed to your cheek; your fingers closed around her wrist, thumb pressing against Lin's pulse point. You could feel the rhythmic beat of her heart, quickening beneath your touch.

Lin blinked. She wasn't someone who blushed easily, but something unmistakably softer crossed her face. "…I'm glad you came." It came out almost awkwardly. As though admitting that mattered more than she'd intended. She cleared her throat. "Come on."

"Hm?" You tilted your head curiously.

"My shift ends in…" Lin glanced toward the clock on the wall of her office. "…eight minutes."

You grinned, untangling yourself from her so Lin could grab her coat. "I thought chiefs weren't supposed to count down until they can leave," you raised a teasing brow at her.

Lin glanced at you from the corner of her eyes, "I can make exceptions." She grabbed the dark, long coat that had been draped over her chair and put it over her uniform.

"Oh?" Something warm settled in your chest, and you felt your heart stumbling over it.

Lin flicked off the lamp on her desk. She glanced at the ground for a moment, and then back up at you before saying, "For you."

That earned her a warmer smile. One Lin found herself quietly committing to memory, as pride filled her chest for being the one to cause it. She walked back to you and reached down, threading her fingers through yours again.

Your hand fit with hers like a puzzle piece; you squeezed once, feeling the warmth of her skin seep into your palms. Then, without giving her much of a warning, you pulled Lin down and stood on your tiptoes until your lips could find hers.

Lin had to bite back a small gasp of surprise. A shiver ran down her back upon feeling the softness of your lips against hers. It took her less than a second to close her eyes and melt into you, pressing just a little closer as her lips fit together with yours.

The kiss was quick, but it lingered on Lin's lips even after you parted, leaving her with a longing for more. More of you. Her thumb absentmindedly stroked across your knuckles as she gazed down at you. "We're getting dinner."

You ran your tongue over your bottom lip, still tasting her there. "You don't have paperwork to finish?"

Lin shook her head softly. "They'll still be there tomorrow." Her voice sounded almost far away, as if caught in a trance.

Your eyes stung again. Not from sadness this time. You leaned up once more until your lips found her cheek, and you placed a kiss there, on the corner of her scars. "You're getting soft on me, Beifong."

Lin snorted, feeling the shape of your words against her skin. "Don't spread rumors." And she was. And Lin found that she didn't mind it one bit. Not if it was for you.

"Oh, they'd never believe me."

"Good."

Eight minutes later, Lin signed off her shift, ignored the knowing looks several officers exchanged, and walked out of the Police Station with you beside her. Your hands still intertwined.

The city lights had fully come alive now, reflecting across rain-slick streets as night settled over Republic City. "Takeout?" Lin asked, already tugging you along to her Satomobile.

"Definitely." You bumped your shoulder against hers as you walked, watching as the water from puddles splashed around your boots and reflected the streetlights.

Lin guided you to the passenger's side, opening the door for you. "My apartment?" Her green eyes stared at you with hints of anticipation, still endearingly nervous whenever she asked you to sleep over.

You bit the inside of your cheek, bringing your joined hands up so you could press a kiss to Lin's knuckles. "I'd love that."

And Lin's smile softened in a way that belonged only to you. She squeezed your hand before letting go, as if it took every ounce of strength in her to do so. As soon as she sat in the driver's seat, her hand found your thigh as if gravity had pulled it there.

Nothing more needed to be said. The day had been cruel. Tomorrow would probably bring its own problems.

But tonight, there would be warm food, quiet conversation, one oversized sweater that somehow always smelled like cedarwood and tea, and the steady comfort of falling asleep beside the woman who had become home before either of you had quite realized it.

For tonight, that was enough.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆･

Lin’s taglist is open, let me know if you’d like to be added. Or you can follow @talesofesther-library and turn notifications on to know when I’ve posted a new story/chapter.

Thank you for reading this story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

She is alluring. Her mouth marks a path from the corner of your lips and down to your neck; her hands brush over your bare back without missing a spot as if she's committing each detail of you to memory; her chest presses intimately against yours, skin to skin; all you can possibly feel is her. And she is alluring.

Her body is pliant under your hands; her skin gives beneath your touch as though it were made only to be held by you. You kiss the edge of her mouth, and she rewards you with a sweet exhalation of your name. Your lips brush over her cheek, over the scars adorning her skin there, and Lin curls herself into you.

You couldn't tell where she ends, or where you begin. Body and soul too well tangled together.

Lin touches you like a starved thing, burying her nose into your skin and breathing you in. It leaves you wondering, for a moment, how long it had been since anyone held her like this; since anyone held her at all.

Too long, you guess. Because something damp falls against the skin of your shoulder, right beside where her lips are dutifully kissing you. The teardrop rolls down the path of your collarbone, between your breasts. And Lin's arms around you hold on a little tighter.

It's okay, you don't comment on it, even if your heart stumbles on its rhythm. Your hand tangles between her hair; you gently pull her up until your mouth finds hers again, and you catch her lower lip between yours. Your hand traces over the skin of her waist until your fingertips find her spine, and you feel her shiver beneath the touch, beneath the press of your bare skin onto hers.

Your lips move in tandem with Lin's. Hungry and decidedly eager. Her hand is on your jaw when she turns her head to come closer still, bumping her nose against your cheek. Desperate, as if you'll slip from her grasp if she doesn't hold tight enough.

You feel it. You feel the cracks and scars of her heart when her lip trembles as it brushes yours. You feel it when you taste the salt of tears on her mouth.

It's okay. You hold her tighter, too.

──•◎•──

You are the first to wake up on the next morning, with soft sunlight gently kissing over your eyelids.

You blink your eyes open, lazy and still half asleep, with your body feeling the pleasant strain of last night. The first thing you see is the thin white curtain flowing just above your head, as the morning breeze arrives through the open window. The smell of fresh rain still lingers in the air, as the water slowly starts to dry out in the streets. Sunlight spills inside your bedroom, shining across messy bedsheets and naked skin.

A low hum escapes your lips as you brush the sleep from your eyes. Butterflies flutter in your stomach when you think of last night; when you remember whose hands roamed your body, and whose lips kissed your breath away.

You turn, already missing the person who lies just beside you.

Lin is lying with her back to you; the soft waves of her hair spill messily over the pillow, a stripe of sunlight touches the muscles on her arm, and you can see her chest rising and falling deeply. She still sleeps. Her back is bare, and you notice the marks on her skin. Scars old and new, some bigger, others just a faint lighter line; all testimonies of something that touched her unkindly. And you find yourself wanting to press a kiss over each scar; wanting to soothe each memory of pain.

A wave of warmth floods into the space between your ribs and almost chokes the breath out of your lungs at the sight of her. You didn't think it was ever possible to love someone this much, to feel such affection that your heart hurts simply by looking at them. But Lin had always swept you off your feet, since the first time she met you, with a scowl on her face when Korra had dragged you into trouble.

Last night had been months in the making. Months of you and Lin sharing secret touches without a word spoken about it; months of lingering looks and what-ifs; months of you and Lin tiptoeing the edge of a blurred line yet never crossing it; months of you and Lin growing so inseparable that people became surprised when you had to say there was nothing more between you.

Maybe now, you'd be able to say there is something.

Ever so gently, you reach out a hand and touch Lin's back. Your fingertips are careful as you trace the outline of her scars. You wonder about the story of each one; you wonder which ones were painful, which ones still hurt. Lin stirs slightly at your touch, her shoulders going a little tense. You watch as goosebumps slowly raise on her skin; and it makes you smile, all adoring and warm, because her reaction to you has always been something that belongs only to you.

You shift closer to her; the covers draped over your lower body tangle loosely between your legs. Your arm moves over Lin's waist until your hand finds her abdomen, and you close your grip around her, pulling her into you.

All you hear from Lin is a soft sigh. Her hand slowly finds your own, and she's tentative when she intertwines your fingers together—a stark contrast to the hunger she touched you with last night. Still, she keeps you there, keeps your arm around her when she brings your joined hands to her lips so she can press a timid kiss onto your knuckles.

You answer her with a kiss of your own. Your lips find a twisted patch of skin near her shoulder; there's a bigger scar there, looks a little deeper than some of the others. You press your mouth firmly against Lin, closing your eyes and breathing her in. Wisps of her hair tickle your nose when you linger there, and you nuzzle against her neck, pressing your front to her back.

"Good morning," you mumble, voice half muffled against Lin.

She takes a few beats to answer you. There's hesitation in the way she grips your hand tighter. Lin's thumb is moving softly back and forth against your skin, and she brings your joined hands closer to her chest for a moment.

You don't push her; you don't insist. You merely wait, because you know her; you've held her hand in silence enough times to know that past all that armor she wears on the outside lives a bruised heart that's been forgotten and hurt more than enough.

Eventually, Lin releases her hold on your hand, only so she can turn on the bed. She shifts until she's facing you; both her hands come to rest in front of her chest, while those bright green eyes of hers blink slowly at you. Her hair rests on the pillow around her and over her shoulder, the usually kept waves now messy and all over the place. She is bewitching.

Your arm is still draped over her waist, and you can't help yourself when you press your hand against her back and pull her into you again. You peck her lips in a chaste kiss; you missed the softness of those lips, the warmth of them against yours.

When you pull back again, a visible flush paints Lin's cheeks, resting just above her scars and softening her sharp features.

She averts her gaze, yet a small smile curls at the corner of her mouth; "Good morning." Her voice is quiet, as though to preserve the fragile bubble of intimacy still wrapped around this moment, tucked away from the rest of the world.

Your heart swells inside your chest. Your hand on her bare waist shifts up and down lazily, from the start of her thigh to just below her ribs. "I don't feel like getting up just yet, but maybe we could think about grabbing breakfast somewhere nice?" You suggest just as quietly, "There's a cute bakery nearby I've been meaning to visit."

Lin glances up at you; there's something painfully vulnerable in the glint of her eyes. You feel like, for once, she's standing completely bare before you, in more ways than merely physically. She reaches out until her fingers brush your cheek, and her touch lingers there, the tip of her fingers tangling gently with a lock of your hair. She looks at you as if she's gazing at a dream, or a memory; as if she's longing for something just out of reach.

She smiles, and it's bittersweet and a little shaky. "That would be nice." Nothing about her sounds like the confident Chief Beifong most people know, and normally you adore this side of her that exists only with you; but now, the tightness of her voice sends a sharp twinge of pain to your chest.

Lin clears her throat, and suddenly she's curling her hand back against her chest and away from you. "But I should be leaving already; it's late." She tries to bring her usual composure back to herself, eyebrows pulling together slightly, but it doesn't quite work. Lin pushes herself up then, surprising you with how quickly she sits on the bed. She grabs a fistful of the covers and pulls it up to her chest, covering her breasts—as if you hadn't kissed each part of her last night, over and over.

You blink up at her with a deep frown. The hand you had around her waist mere seconds ago is now hovering in the air with nowhere to go. "What? What do you mean?" With a loud groan, you push yourself up to sit beside her, running a hand through your bedridden hair. "Lin, it's a Sunday. There's no such thing as late; come on."

Lin keeps her gaze ahead, on the strips of sunlight bathing the room in golden light. Her knuckles are white with how tightly she's holding onto the covers. "There is to me."

Sometimes, you wish you could figure her out just a little easier. Still, you take her in; her hair seems a little longer than usual when it falls over her shoulders like this; her lips are redder, no doubt from how much you'd kissed them last night. But there's also a tremble to her hands, and you can't ignore the start of tears that are already clinging to her eyelashes, even if she refuses to look at you.

"Okay," you breathe. And you shuffle closer until your knee is resting above hers. Tenderly, you take hold of both of Lin's cheeks, turning her head until you can find her eyes with yours. "Lin, what's wrong?"

She holds the silence still, trying to look down despite your hands on her face, which squishes her cheeks endearingly.

You push aside rogue strands of her hair, allowing your thumb to trace the outline of her eyebrow with a tender touch. "Hey, don't shut me out." You're kind when you speak to her, as if calming a skittish cat; she's had enough roughness in her life that all you want to offer is the opposite.

Lin tries to gulp back something that's pushing against the back of her throat, until her chin starts to wobble. Carefully, Lin's hands close around both your wrists, and she pulls your touch away from her even if it looks like it physically hurts her to do so. "I never… I never asked if this was a one-time thing for you…" The words stumble out of Lin's lips in a choked mess, and you figure you're nothing but a blur of dark hair and sunlight in her vision, given the amount of tears in the bottom lid of her eyes, just a blink away from spilling, "I should have asked."

In truth, Lin doesn't know what to do with her own heart. She had tried to ignore how much it called your name. She had tried to dismiss her growing feelings for friendship; because spirits, you could do better. You could find someone younger, easier, lighter; like you. Yet each time you came back to her, each time you took her hand or stole a hurried kiss behind a closed door, Lin held onto you as if you were air and she were underwater.

And last night happened on a whim, after shared laughs and a bottle of red wine. And for Lin, it had meant everything. When she'd carved her heart straight out of her chest and held it out for you last night, it had meant everything. But she'd forgotten to ask; what did it mean to you?

Lin blinks when you stay silent in front of her; your wrists still held in place by her hands and your mouth hanging open as you only stare at her. And she feels the first tear rolling down her cheek; sunlight glints off of it, and she turns her head away so quickly it hurts.

She can feel the haphazardly stitched cracks on her heart ripping open anew. Lin takes a deep, shaky breath. She lets go of your wrists to roughly dry off her cheeks; her touch is brash and unkind, as if she wants to punish herself for something. "I understand if this was just a night of pleasure for you, but I can't-" Lin purses her lips; if she thinks hard enough, she can still feel the ghost of your kiss. But she knows, you couldn't possibly choose her for anything more than one night.

"I should leave," it falls as nothing but a breath past her lips.

Your hand finds her cheek again before Lin moves another inch. The pad of your thumb catches a tear that's fallen there, "Lin, step out of that fog inside your mind." Your worry escapes you unabashedly; there's something desperate hanging on the edge of each word, "Please, just look at me."

Lin is so aware of how close you are right now that she almost forgets how to breathe. She doesn't know what to do with kindness, especially not when it comes wrapped around your fingers. The warmth of your body rivals that of the sunlight seeping through the windows; the palm of your hand resting so securely against her cheek threatens to unravel Lin's fragile composure. Her eyes are slow as they find a path to yours; her gaze shifts carefully over the skin of your stomach, your chest, the curve between your neck and shoulder that Lin had so dutifully kissed last night, until her gaze meets yours. And Lin feels strangely small, vulnerable; it's a foreign feeling. But it's with you; it doesn't scare her.

Lin bites back a gasp when she catches tears brimming in the corner of your eyes, too. There's relief in how your expression softens for her, and you pull her closer until your forehead rests gently against hers.

"If you leave right now, I promise you'll be taking my heart with you." Your quiet voice burns with a sudden rawness. Both your hands shift over to Lin's jaw, thumbs tracing the outlines of her features as if you want to commit each detail to memory. Your heart bleeds when you wonder how much Lin has been hurt already, for it to be so easy for her to doubt what you have is real; to the point of thinking that last night had been just a fling for you. When you pull back, it's only so you can look at her as you speak, so she's able to catch the sincerity of each word. "After last night, I… I don't think I could ever spend another night without you." Both your hands trace a path down her bare arms until you can loosely tangle your fingers together. You shrug sheepishly after the confession, feeling heat creeping up your neck.

"Please don't say things like that if you don't-" Lin hesitates; a groan escapes her as her face momentarily twists into something almost annoyed—it's a bittersweet pair to the tears slowly painting a path down her cheeks. Lin presses her eyes closed before finishing; "If you don't mean them." And she speaks in a hushed tone, like her admissions can't be uttered above a certain decibel level. It almost appears as though it's easier for her to be vulnerable with you if she doesn't have to look at you.

Her sudden fragility surprises you. In the same heartbeat, you answer. "But I do. Lin, I've had feelings for you for such a long time now," you tighten your grip on her hands, "After all we've been through, you must know that."

Hooded eyes meet your own once more; the familiar green swallowed up by dark, blown pupils; "You could have any man or woman you want, why would you choose me?"

A soft chuckle falls past your lips, and you shake your head slightly. And it's almost endearing, how innocent and young Lin looks right now. "Oh, Lin." You let go of her hands, and both your arms go around Lin's shoulders instead. You're quick enough to catch her off guard and steal a small welp of surprise from her. You hold her tight when you throw yourself back down on the bed, bringing Lin down with you until you're once again a mess of tangled limbs and sheets.

Lin's hands go around your waist out of instinct, and she has no time to do or say anything before you're peppering her face with kisses. Your lips find her cheeks, the curve of her brows, the dried tear tracks on the side of her mouth, her eyelids, and her nose.

You don't stop loving on her until you get your prize; a small yet genuine laugh out of Lin. She buries her face into your neck, and you can sense your heart flutter in your chest when you feel the shape of Lin's smile against your skin. You tighten your grip on her, holding her closer; only because you can.

There's something enchanting in how Lin eventually holds herself up on her elbows to look down at you as half of her body lies on top of you. Her legs tangle with yours, her bare chest is pressed warmly against yours, and her hair frames her face dreamily as it falls in waves beside her cheeks.

"Because, Lin," You start, gazing up into her eyes as if she holds the sun in her hands. And maybe for you, she does, because the golden light coming from the window shines like a halo behind her, and there's no one else in this world you adore more. "It's you my heart beats for." You reach for one of Lin's hands, placing it right above your chest, right above your racing heart that beats in the rhythm of her name. Hardly daring to breathe, you whisper, "I think I'd choose you in all my lifetimes."

It's quiet, the way Lin basks in the love you've finally put on full display. But one last tear falls from the corner of her eye; it traces a path beside the bridge of her nose, following how she gazes down at you; it eventually falls against your cheek, and continues its path on you, until disappearing against the pillow. At last, Lin slowly leans down. There's a newfound timidness in how her nose brushes yours, right before her lips press into the corner of your mouth. She lingers there; it's a promise and confession wrapped in one.

Your hand shifts on her waist; you lay your palm more firmly against her naked back, pulling her decidedly against you. Lin fits with you like a puzzle piece finding its place, and you feel the reassuring beat of her heart resting so close to yours.

"I'd choose you, too." You feel the shape of Lin's words more than you hear them.

You turn your head, closing your eyes when her lips find yours as though pulled by gravity. Lin smiles against your lips; "It's always been you."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆･

Lin’s taglist is open, let me know if you’d like to be added. Or you can follow @talesofesther-library and turn notifications on to know when I’ve posted a new story/chapter.

Thank you for reading this story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3