Chapter Text
He remembers the first time he sees her, the hiss and clouds of steam billowing behind her as her smile flashes, eyes bright. He takes a deep breath, inhaling the earthy, rich scent of freshly-ground coffee. Even with his eyes closed, he sees her flawless skin, that wonderful shade of cocoa. And her body, that even the shapeless uniform could not completely conceal. He almost forgets to breathe.
“Mako!” Bolin waves enthusiastically from behind the counter, reminding him of a loyal puppy. He won’t turn down an opportune excuse to meet them.
“Korra, Mako. Mako, Korra. Glad you finally made it.”
Korra.
It suits her.
Korra’s grin widens when he reaches her, her smile illuminating the room as much as the sunshine streaming through the long-paned windows. Her eyes are so blue, shining just so, in contrast to her dark face, as the sun constricts her pupils. Stop it.
“Bolin’s been raving about you.” There is genuine pleasure in her voice, as she drapes her arm around Bo’s shoulders.
Mako would almost think she was making fun of him, if he didn’t know Bolin’s propensity to exaggerate. “Everything he says is absolutely true,” he deadpans.
That makes her laugh, and oh, okay, wow. The laugh is contagious. He definitely wants to make her laugh that way again.
“Don’t worry, he only sings your praises,” she says conspiratorially behind her hand.
“I hope I don’t disappoint.” He manages to stifle a chuckle but not the smile that creeps up.
“If you’re half of what Bolin claims, I’m sure you won’t. He’s been dying for you to finally stop by.” He watches her hand stop short of reaching for his arm.
Is she flirting?
“Well, you know, I’ve been really busy with the academy – I’m a police officer in training. But I really wanted to meet you all.”
“So what can I get you today?” Her grin never leaves her face, it seems.
This is not his kind of place at all, and he hesitates, feeling dwarfed by the tyranny of choice of artisanal beverages with names that do not reflect content. He glances once towards Bolin but he is already out of sight as he ducks back behind the counter.
“Just a black coffee. Double espresso.” It’s his usual order, mostly because he knows nothing of coffee or its subtleties; as long as it is cheap and the caffeine does its trick.
“Come on. Pick something more imaginative.”
Before he can reply, Korra adds with a twinkle in her eyes that he shouldn’t trust, “How about I make the best coffee you ever tasted?”
He finds himself holding his breath again at the sight as she pours the steaming milk, flicking her wrist minutely this way and that; the way her tongue sticks out slightly at the corner of her lips in concentration as she creates a perfect rosetta of a leaf.
It’s the best coffee he’s ever had.
His break passes all too quickly, and his attention remains fixed on Korra – the luxurious hair that keeps falling out of her small ponytail, the energy simmering beneath her poised grace, the looks she keeps sending him – as he only half-listens to his brother going into the details of running the shop. Far too much detail, frankly. Glancing at his watch, he finally gets up reluctantly.
“See you around Mako.” She flashes that easy grin again.
Oh yeah, she is definitely flirting.
He pours the change she gave him back in the tip jar.
Korra, he learns quickly, works afternoons.
“Hey Mako. You looking for Bolin?”
“Um, yeah. Yes, of course. But I’ll get coffee too.”
She frowns. “Didn’t you know he opened today?”
“Oh, well. Must have slipped my mind. Busy day at the academy,” he explains, leaning on the counter. “But at least the current staffing is much more charming.”
Korra’s smile lights up her face, even as she pretends demureness. “Don’t let Bolin know that, I think he has a crush on Opal.”
Mako usually prefers honesty to coyness, but for her, he chuckles. “I wasn’t talking about Opal.”
“You’re just saying that because I make amazing coffee.”
But he can humor her for the sake of the game, “I can’t argue with that.”
Okay, so maybe - just maybe - he’s not just here for Bolin anymore.
It becomes hard to focus during morning lectures, as he finds his mind constantly returning to a certain bronze-skinned woman. His lunch breaks, which used to be nothing more than short reprieves to stretch his legs, are becoming more enjoyable, and more important, than he anticipated.
One afternoon, he’s waiting longer than usual. A young man – barely more than a boy, really – in front of him, takes his sweet time to place his order, along with some other complicated extras while chatting up a storm. For want of something to do, Mako strains to listen, foot tapping slightly in impatience, but the customer has dropped his voice to a whisper. Korra humors him, conversing along in hushed tones while scooping brownies into a box, before the boy exclaims loudly, “That would be so cool. It’ll totally work! Korra, you’re my second favorite person right now.”
He then proceeds to awkwardly half-climb on the counter to hug Korra. Mako scowls at the display of unwarranted contact, which is honestly the last straw after this man-boy’s complete disregard of other, paying customers and their time. Does he not know what harassment is? Maybe he should have worn his uniform today.
She’s only doing her job.
Korra only laughs in response, pats his shoulder, hands him what looks like a harness and a leash, and playfully shoo-es him off.
Korra has a dog??
Mako rolls his eyes internally at the boy’s excitement, which matches the dog’s. And when they finally leave, he catches Korra’s gaze, lifting his eyebrows conspiratorially at Korra’s amused exasperation.
She’s only doing her job.
And yet.
He catches her at the end of her break one day hanging up on her mobile phone, a look of pure annoyance on her face. It melts away when they lock eyes and she spares him a rueful smile. Though she is reticent to explain what is bothering her, he notices a twinkle in her eyes when he leaves her to her work. Which he likes to think is not unrelated to his efforts.
Or like the time when he got caught in the rain and she lent him her umbrella.
Or that time her touch lingered on his wrist, after she stopped him from feeding her dog a piece of his brownie. Not something he could do again though .
Or that weekend when Korra spent the entire afternoon experimenting with new recipes on him.
Or when he saw her eyes linger on the details of his uniform the first time she saw him wear it.
Or when she always manages a smile for him, even when Bolin tells him the day has been grueling and everyone is grumpy.
Every good cop knows how to piece clues together; a great cop, however, can extrapolate intent. And Mako knows exactly where this leads, and he isn’t complaining.
He stays longer and longer every day, and prides himself in always making her laugh at least once per shift.
There’s a flurry of activity around the shop as he arrives just past closing time, the tinkling of the doorbell drowned by the scrape of chairs being placed on the tables. His eyes automatically scan the shop and spot Bolin with his full attention on the other barista. Opal, if he remembers correctly. Korra was right, it definitely looks like a crush to him. Korra is on the phone a few feet away, her back turned away from the entrance.
“Hey, Bo! Ready to go?”
“Oh hey Mako! Sorry, we were making plans to go out tonight. Celebrating the end of exams. This is Opal, by the way.”
“Hey. Who’s coming?” Mako turns his attention back to Bolin, managing to keep his voice casual, his gaze flicking towards Korra, who turns at his question, hanging up before joining them.
Opal chimes in, “Korra, of course. She aced her exams.”
Korra rolls her eyes, but not before Mako catches her worrying the corner of her bottom lip with her teeth. “You don’t know that.”
Opal merely shushes her and continues, “I’m coming along too, even though I only did average.”
“You don’t know that.”
Bolin grins, “Well even if I failed, I’d still wanna celebrate that it’s over for at least three more months. So, can Asami come?”
“Sadly, no. Last paper at eight tomorrow.”
Mako smoothly intervenes, eyes on Korra, “Lucky for you, I can. I can pretend my exams are already over. I’ll even buy the first round.”
Korra makes a face, that only he can see. “We shouldn’t get drunk tonight.”
Bolin reacts in his usual manner, boisterous and outraged, and Opal chastises him.
“Don’t worry, I’ll buy you all the coffee you want in the morning.” Mako winks at Korra.
Korra’s sour look doesn’t abate. “Will I have to make it too?”
“Bolin can make it,” he smiles.
Bolin hits him in the arm. He doesn’t know if he heard him or just wants to get a move on, but he effectively breaks the moment before Korra can laugh.
“Hey Korra!” He greets her as he reaches the counter.
“Mako. Hi!” She frowns slightly, “Bolin’s not working today.”
“I know. But I need my fix. Someone got me addicted.” He smiles at her, right eyebrow raised.
“Ha. Be careful, this stuff will kill you.”
“But if I have a heart attack at the hands of your coffee, you’ll see that I get better right? Nurse me back to health?”
It elicits a thin laugh, “Bolin can do it.”
“Nah, Nurse Korra has a better ring to it.”
“Am I a nurse just because I’m a woman?”
This startles a genuine, boisterous laugh out of him. He loves her wit too.
“I can talk so easily to you, Korra.” He finally says after an hour of sharing his day, all of his day’s pent-up frustration from studies and training, as usual. It is a habit he has fallen into, but Korra never once complains. In fact, she even sometimes manages to coax a chuckle from him, not a light feat when he is in such a mood.
She looks up from her last order of the day, pauses, and says lightly. “Well, serving coffee and an ear is in the job description.”
He’s leaning on the counter, propped on his elbow, his hand close to her arm. He resists the urge to reach out. It is, after all, her place of work. Just like he resists the urge to unbutton his jacket or slacken his tie. It shows, after all, his pride in his work.
They lapse into a companionable silence while she prepares the order of the last late night customer. She’s taking her time, too.
Finally, she frowns and turns to him, “I need to close up, Mako.”
Without another word, she starts to wipe the tables in short and efficient strokes and he takes it as a cue to stay. When she starts lifting the chairs onto the table, he asks gallantly, “Do you want some help?”
“You’re not an employee. I can’t risk it.” She must sense his disappointment when he doesn’t answer, because she looks up from the mop and adds, “For safety and insurance purposes.”
“I could wait and walk you home.” It’s the least he could do really, at this point. “You know, I’ve seen some of the riff-raff hanging around here.”
“What?”
He’s had ample time at the shop to observe the clientele. Something most people never master. “I’ve seen some... ‘questionable’ people loiter about the shop.”
She frowns. “I’ve no clue what you’re on about.” Sweet, naive Korra.
And then he watches her face falls. “And I already have a ride.”
He waits anyway and follows her outside as she pulls the metal grille down.
When Korra has finally locked the shop, Mako doesn’t let an awkward silence fall between them. “Okay, see you tomorrow, Nurse Korra.”
She takes a second to reply. “See you, Mako.” He really likes how she says his name.
He watches her walk away for a moment, his smile lingering as his eyes follow her lithe gait. This is the only reason he sees the bike that pulls up, and Korra getting on it. He frowns, trying to see who the rider is, but the street is too dark, and they drive off too quickly.
About a month after their first interaction, Korra changes to morning shifts. It’s the new semester, she explains when Mako finally catches on. Sadly, he is always busiest then, and so is the shop. In return, they have more time on weekends, which is perfect for him.
During his third consecutive Sunday spent in the shop, comfortable on the one sofa that accommodates his height, he finishes the first book he’s had the opportunity to read this year. And a lot of coffee. The only catch is that Korra is always manning -- or well, womanning -- the counter. Which means good coffee and great repartee when the crowd is thin.
“Korra, why don’t you take orders while I make the coffee for now?” Bolin offers, when the queue is reduced to only one woman in front of Mako.
Korra looks up and her characteristic crooked grin widens. Bolin must think he’s so sly. Mako can even see him wink at her.
“What can I get you today?”
“Whatever would get me through three blocks of thermo and two of design. Thanks, Korra.”
A chuckle, and a click of her tongue in sympathy. “I know just the thing. Bolin never gets it right.”
“Hey, I am offended. I am the best barista in this shop.”
“Sorry, you make really cute latte art, but Korra does know exactly how strong I take it. And I definitely need that today,” The woman’s tone is apologetic.
Korra looks triumphantly at Bolin.“‘Tis settled. Why don’t you take care of your brother?” It’s Mako’s turn to chuckle. Dear, oblivious Korra doesn’t realize Bolin’s machinations, turning away to focus on fixing the customer’s drink.
She’s such a perfectionist. He is, of course, disappointed, but her work ethic is admirable. Just as he likes it with his own work. Her attentiveness to the regulars and her memory of each of their peculiarities; it’s one of the many things he loves about her.