𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 (legend of korra)

four

Although moving to the city was far from (Name’s) first choice, she’d found that some of the best things that happened, happened in the city.

Her first job outside of college, her first apartment with Korra, her marriage to Korra, their bundle of joy, and so much more, small stuff.

(Name) never liked the city, and yet, she found herself drawn to it. Not for the people, not for the food or music or lights. Certainly not for the restlessness.

It was the memories. The ones she’d cling to for the rest of her life. Bare feet padded softly back into the kitchen to refill a now empty cup of coffee.

She poured the rest of it into her cup, adding her own creamer before replacing the filter and coffee grinds. She filled the reservoir back up with water from the tap and started the machine all over again.

She could drink coffee all day. She simply loved the stuff. She knew her wife could too. Part of why they went through coffee beans by the week.

As a new pot began to brew, (Name) took a sip from her freshly refilled cup and made her way back to the window. The sun beamed into the room softer now, not quite so radiantly, but still enough to make her silhouette glisten in the illuminating light.

She looked down to the snow caked sidewalk. Despite messy footprints and sloppy slush shoved on the sides of the road, it was beautiful. It was home. The day she’d married Korra was a lot like this day.

(Name’s) day had not been going as planned. The wedding would be held near sunset, and time was creeping closer by the second. She’d been woken early and immediately met the face of her concerned mother staring over her, brow scrunched in worry that she was poor at hiding.

"What’s wrong?” she asked.

Her mother sighed. (Name) knew as well as anyone that she was no good at hiding when something was wrong.

"The flowers arrived this morning.”

(Name) pushed the blankets back and swung her legs to the side.

“And?”

The woman huffed and held up a bouquet of white lilies. (Name’s) heart dropped.

“Did you call to tell them they were wrong?” she questioned.

“That brings us to problem number two.”

(Name) stared at her as she moved over to the window, drawing back to curtains. From the bed, she could see the snow caked sidewalks. No one would want to do anything in that weather.

“No no no!” she whined, putting her face in her hands.

“And now we have problem number three.”

Problem number three was probably the best thing that had happened since she’d been awake. The best thing that could have happened that day, although she didn’t see it that way until later.