Avatar Korra (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
unrestraint) wrote2014-04-02 11:15 pm
unrestraint) wrote2014-04-02 11:15 pm
Entry tags:
i'd like to take you to a higher place, where we won't ever have to leave the ground
It starts off as just a thought. Not really something that's been on her mind regularly, and definitely not something she's ever pictured as being in her immediate future. Just an errant consideration after a long evening of feeling sick, and feeling cranky, and wandering through the still halls of the convenience store down the block. She picks up a few things — grapefruit soda, mint chewing gum, a small bag of rice and chicken stock for stew. Things that will cleanse her palate and keep her nausea under control.
A brisk walk down the drug aisle has her picking up anti-emetic medicine, and in the process of trying to make out what the many colored and shaped boxes are supposed to be for, she happens across it. A long, thin box, not at all intimidating or standing out from the others. An errant puzzle piece that possibly, just possibly fits in place with the pattern.
The cashier hesitates for only half a second when scanning the item, and for some reason, doesn't seem to meet Korra's gaze. Which is fine.
It's just a thought, anyway.
She almost forgets about it once she's back at the house. Time is one of those funny things that slips easily through her fingers if she isn't careful, and there's always something that needs to be taken care of now that they've moved into a bigger space. Naga needs a bath, and the kitchen needs to be tidied, and the trash needs to be taken out — which is no longer a trip down the hall, but instead a matter of dragging the cans out by the curb, where the collection truck will see as it drives down the road. By the time she finds the three minutes she needs in the bathroom, it's practically when Naruto is due home, and Korra's biggest concern is whether or not he had the forethought to bring something home for dinner, or if she has to start thinking about what she can do with what's in the fridge.
Until she glances at the test she's carelessly left on the counter, finding two pink lines down the tiny window in the center.
Frowning, Korra reaches for the box, her skin buzzing uncertainly as she rereads the instructions on the back and finds herself a seat on the couch. It doesn't sink in. Can't, really, without someone else there to ground the moment.
Naga huffs slightly as she pads into the room, laying herself parallel to the couch and staring up at Korra. Korra stares back, pulling one knee up to her chest.
"Don't tell me that you knew all along and just couldn't find a way to tell me."
A brisk walk down the drug aisle has her picking up anti-emetic medicine, and in the process of trying to make out what the many colored and shaped boxes are supposed to be for, she happens across it. A long, thin box, not at all intimidating or standing out from the others. An errant puzzle piece that possibly, just possibly fits in place with the pattern.
The cashier hesitates for only half a second when scanning the item, and for some reason, doesn't seem to meet Korra's gaze. Which is fine.
It's just a thought, anyway.
She almost forgets about it once she's back at the house. Time is one of those funny things that slips easily through her fingers if she isn't careful, and there's always something that needs to be taken care of now that they've moved into a bigger space. Naga needs a bath, and the kitchen needs to be tidied, and the trash needs to be taken out — which is no longer a trip down the hall, but instead a matter of dragging the cans out by the curb, where the collection truck will see as it drives down the road. By the time she finds the three minutes she needs in the bathroom, it's practically when Naruto is due home, and Korra's biggest concern is whether or not he had the forethought to bring something home for dinner, or if she has to start thinking about what she can do with what's in the fridge.
Until she glances at the test she's carelessly left on the counter, finding two pink lines down the tiny window in the center.
Frowning, Korra reaches for the box, her skin buzzing uncertainly as she rereads the instructions on the back and finds herself a seat on the couch. It doesn't sink in. Can't, really, without someone else there to ground the moment.
Naga huffs slightly as she pads into the room, laying herself parallel to the couch and staring up at Korra. Korra stares back, pulling one knee up to her chest.
"Don't tell me that you knew all along and just couldn't find a way to tell me."
no subject
She's never had any issues with her own parents. If anything, she wants to emulate their example as much as possible — supportive, but capable of encouraging restraint whenever Korra's needed it. But neither of them ever tried to hold Korra back from her dreams, and what she wanted to accomplish as the Avatar. It's not easy, she knows. Her parents have always preferred a simple, contained life, and having their daughter turn out to be the Avatar gave them anything but.
Korra raises her free hand to Naruto's jaw, cupping it gently. Not trying to pull his gaze away from wherever he's concentrating on at the moment.
"But we're both pretty open to taking advice, so I don't think we'll have that problem. And we've got friends who'll help us. You know, maybe I'll freak out in a couple of days, but right now... I'm pretty excited. I kind of hope we have a boy."
no subject
"Wouldn't a girl be better? Whether she looks like you or she looks like me .. I think a girl would be better."
no subject
Taking a deep breath, Korra reaches out for Naruto's hand, threading their fingers together and tugging him in her direction. "Do you think you can take tomorrow off work? I want to go to the hospital and see how far along we are."