[ Mako doesn't dignify that with a response. Zuko trills in quiet concern as he shoves himself up on jerky legs, his mind whirling. He shoves an arm out for her and she leaps to him, coiling up around his neck.
He doesn't remember the journey down the stairs. He's thinking about eight-year-old Bolin huddled in the rain under a cardboard structure already starting to leak, about promising him he'd find them a dry place to sleep the next day without knowing whether he'd be able to keep it. So many times they'd talked about having a place of their own, what they'd do with a house, where they'd want to live. Even when Mako was living under his desk, Bolin had a home and a place on Air Temple Island. For him to choose to live in an alley—
Something is wrong, and Mako had no idea.
By the time he gets to the bottom of the stairs and out the door, smoke is coiling up in loops from his skin, filtering out from under his clothing, and his eyes are burning with anger or guilt or both. He doesn't stomp because that's not who Mako is, but his movements are careful and controlled, and his face is a hard-set thing as he slips into the dark little alley without a word. ]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2021-11-29 10:41 pm (UTC)He doesn't remember the journey down the stairs. He's thinking about eight-year-old Bolin huddled in the rain under a cardboard structure already starting to leak, about promising him he'd find them a dry place to sleep the next day without knowing whether he'd be able to keep it. So many times they'd talked about having a place of their own, what they'd do with a house, where they'd want to live. Even when Mako was living under his desk, Bolin had a home and a place on Air Temple Island. For him to choose to live in an alley—
Something is wrong, and Mako had no idea.
By the time he gets to the bottom of the stairs and out the door, smoke is coiling up in loops from his skin, filtering out from under his clothing, and his eyes are burning with anger or guilt or both. He doesn't stomp because that's not who Mako is, but his movements are careful and controlled, and his face is a hard-set thing as he slips into the dark little alley without a word. ]