He's given her some space, and, in mutual defense, they are both busier than ever, but even he knows when he's being ignored. Or trying-very-hard-to-be, lest-said-ignorer-go-into-the-Avatar-State.

Either way, two weeks of silence, conveniently walking the other way once eyes meet, and requesting a certain younger brother not to tell the happenings of coming to the apartment during work hours to pick up some very 'personal belongings' is quite enough. And to be frank, it's a bit more than his heart can take.

So when he picks a time of night when he knows she is going to be training by herself (it's not hard; she always had a time frame she liked to meet from day-to-day, and Spirits roaming the world are no excuse to not be doing Airbending training after dinner) he's not surprised that she tenses up at his arrival. (Though it is disheartening to say the least. Hurts like a damn blood-sucking leach.)

He's never been good with confrontation, or interventions, or...whatever the hell you want to call this. A peace-offering in a battle field? The truth is that he's never been good with relationships and people-most likely due to the ten long years of the lack thereof-but with her is what so...natural.

So why, as he approaches her twirling like a dancer through those once-perilouis gates, do her shoulders tense, and her eyes betray a flash of pain? Why is she looking at him like he's a....a stranger? This isn't how ever wanted things to be. Not with her. Never with her.

He watches as she sighs, and rubs her arms- she's bracing herself, he thinks- and he comes over, cautiously. A breeze blows over the courtyard, picking up leaves, and she shivers. He nearly unbuttons he jacket, habitually going to drape it on her bare-beautiful, strong, stubborn- shoulders...before realizing that wasn't his place anymore.

He discerned that place.

They are just staring at each other for a long moment. Then, he swallows, and her eyes flick to the floor.

When did this get so hard?

The wind cuts through once more, and he tugs his scarf tighter around his neck. He decides to cave first, since he was the one to break her. She deserves at least that much.

"Hey," his voice sounds raspy.

"...Hey."

Her's sounds weary.

He clears his throat.

"L-listen, Korra, I-I was thinking we could talk. We-"

"-It's getting late. I should get to bed."

And just like that, she starts walking away.

And he blinks, actually watching her for a few seconds- and then, just like that, his feet start moving after her. Because damn it, just because the world nearly friggin' ended, doesn't mean he's going to let their's end!

He came to the battle field, and he's not leaving without some kind of victory, no matter how small.

He grasps her hand, and she flinches-friggin flinches, and no, no, no Korra this isn't what I wanted, I love you I-

"What do you want, Mako." It's not a question.

He licks his chapped lips, and takes too long to answer. "Please, I-we can't keep doing this. I can't keep going to work like everything's okay, then seeing you on the street and having you avoid me like you hate me. And- do you hate me? I don't blame you if you do. I hate me. I mean-"

"-I could never hate you, Mako." her voice is stiff, and she takes her hand back. But her eyes hold the truth, and damn it, damn it, if he makes her cry again, he'll- "I just don't think we can ever be the same again. I'm not doing this to spite you; it's too painful to be around right now. I need some time."

"Time," he says, "I get it. I get it, really. I-I'm an idiot, and you're the Avatar. But you're so much more than that. You're Korra. Beautiful, a-and, wonderful, and, Korra. And damn it, Korra, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..."

She looks away, anywhere but his face. "So am I."

"No," he shakes his head, and puts a hand on her shoulder. She doesn't flinch this time. "Don't be. I pushed you away. I betrayed you."

"Can we just say it's both our faults and leave it at that? I thought we agreed that us not working out, was mutually."

He almost smiles in relief. Mutual. Though he disagrees with this, at least he has the peace of mind that she doesn't hate him as much as she deserves to.

"Listen," she begins, hugging herself, "I am really tried. I appreciate you coming, but I had meetings all day, than I had to watch the kids, and a Spirit tore apart someone's yard..."

He hates how his voice sounds when he says, "I understand," and he wants to kick himself. No you don't, you moron! Are you the Avatar?

"So, I'll see you around," and with that, she goes down the stares that lead to the Woman's Dormitory.

Around. The word, and its possibilities, leave him with goosebumps. He almost shouts with joy, because it's honestly better than what he was expecting, which was something along the lines of 'I never want to see your face again.'

Around means there is still a chance. Around means there is still hope, that he can fix this.

This love may be broken, but if anyone ever had a doubt it had ever been there, or that it could ever return, he would be the one to testify. Because at least now, he can leave with some peace.

He shoves his hands in his pockets with a smile, and turns to leave.

Yes, he thinks, for tonight, at least he had a victory.