His pulse thrums under his fingertips like the ticking of a clock.
The ground below him is cold, but burrowed into by his body heat alone. How long has he been sitting there, to make such a dent in the deep snow around him? He doesn’t remember. He doesn’t want to remember. Because if he remembers than he’ll realize that Korra promised to be back exactly two hours and thirty-six minutes ago.
Mako awoke to the sound of someone banging on his door. Turning over in his bed, the firebender groaned.
“Go away, Bo.”
To his surprise, it was Korra, not Bolin that answered back.
“You’re late for work,” she said, from the other side of the door. “Bei Fong wasn’t happy when I spoke to her.”
“I called in sick,” he mumbled. “Saikhan said he’d tell her.”
“Well, clearly he didn’t.”
Mako just nodded, forgetting that Korra couldn’t see from the other side of the closed door.