[ They can just not-cry, almost, together, and never tell anybody. It's fine. There's so much care here, and it feels like a delicate thing, like Mako will mess it up if he says much more.
He doesn't know how to do this. He doesn't know how to lay back and accept soup and worry from somebody like Kristoff, who knows him well enough to know to make soup for everybody. Even if he still can't say aloud not that much, Korra's gone, even if that thought still hurts too much—Kristoff knows him, and there's something terrifying in that.
Carefully, Mako nods, swallowing around the lump of emotion: worry and fear and something deeper he has no name for. He lets himself be shoved back without much protest—Kristoff can probably feel the heat of him under his palm, the burn of a firebender with a fever— but before Kristoff can move his hand Mako reaches up, catches at it with his own fingers and squeezes. ] If that's what'll make you stop worrying.
And. Thank you.
[ It isn't the first time he's said it, and it certainly won't be the last, but Mako hopes that what his words can't say his face does, somehow: that he's grateful, that he wouldn't know what to do if he hadn't met Kristoff here. ]
[ Kristoff stills when he feels Mako grab onto his hand, staring down at them for a moment, his brows wrinkling just slightly. He hates how hot his skin feels, even more so than usual, and the worry and guilt it pulls out of him in the process.
He forces himself to look back at Mako's face, just in time for the thank you, and he can't stop from giving a few owlish blinks at first, because he still isn't sure how to accept gratitude gracefully yet. He finally settles on giving him a reassuring smile, returning the squeeze to his hand firmly. ]
Anytime. [ And he means that, wholeheartedly. There's nothing that would ever stop him from helping Mako, save for Sodder messing with either of their heads.
He finally pulls his hand away from his slowly, straightening and pulling on his tunic to flatten out the wrinkles where it bunched up while he was leaning over. ]
Now sleep. I'll be back in a little while when the food's ready.
The weight of that settles over Mako like a blanket. It feels like a lot of responsibility, somehow, but he's too tired and too heartsick and too sick-sick to make sense of why.
So, for now.
For now, maybe it's okay to just accept it, and lie back, exhausted and grateful and still smiling, and nod. ] I won't go anywhere.
[ He really won't. He's too tired to go anywhere, and he doesn't want to make Kristoff worry any more than he absolutely has to.
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no subject
He doesn't know how to do this. He doesn't know how to lay back and accept soup and worry from somebody like Kristoff, who knows him well enough to know to make soup for everybody. Even if he still can't say aloud not that much, Korra's gone, even if that thought still hurts too much—Kristoff knows him, and there's something terrifying in that.
Carefully, Mako nods, swallowing around the lump of emotion: worry and fear and something deeper he has no name for. He lets himself be shoved back without much protest—Kristoff can probably feel the heat of him under his palm, the burn of a firebender with a fever— but before Kristoff can move his hand Mako reaches up, catches at it with his own fingers and squeezes. ] If that's what'll make you stop worrying.
And. Thank you.
[ It isn't the first time he's said it, and it certainly won't be the last, but Mako hopes that what his words can't say his face does, somehow: that he's grateful, that he wouldn't know what to do if he hadn't met Kristoff here. ]
no subject
He forces himself to look back at Mako's face, just in time for the thank you, and he can't stop from giving a few owlish blinks at first, because he still isn't sure how to accept gratitude gracefully yet. He finally settles on giving him a reassuring smile, returning the squeeze to his hand firmly. ]
Anytime. [ And he means that, wholeheartedly. There's nothing that would ever stop him from helping Mako, save for Sodder messing with either of their heads.
He finally pulls his hand away from his slowly, straightening and pulling on his tunic to flatten out the wrinkles where it bunched up while he was leaning over. ]
Now sleep. I'll be back in a little while when the food's ready.
no subject
The weight of that settles over Mako like a blanket. It feels like a lot of responsibility, somehow, but he's too tired and too heartsick and too sick-sick to make sense of why.
So, for now.
For now, maybe it's okay to just accept it, and lie back, exhausted and grateful and still smiling, and nod. ] I won't go anywhere.
[ He really won't. He's too tired to go anywhere, and he doesn't want to make Kristoff worry any more than he absolutely has to.
Yet. ]