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“I think you’re losing it,” Iroh says from across the room.
She can hear him perfectly well from where she stands at the window, her face nearly pressed against the glass, the curtains brushing her shoulders as half-heartedly hides behind them, but he says it twice more, the last one a yell that receives a knock on the wall from the neighbor to the left, before she acknowledges him with a twitch of her eye.
“I’m losing it?” Korra exclaims. She clenches her coffee thermos in her hands- “just use a mug,” Iroh had said, exasperated, and she’d only looked at him: “You know me. This is much safer.”- and presses her forehead against the window. “She’s the one who’s been up all night building an evil robot in her apartment.”
Through the window, across the courtyard, she watches the perfect, most inexplicably captivating show: she, whoever she is, has been tinkering with some metal hunk every night for the last two weeks, and it’s driving Korra insane. Who is she? What is that? Is she an evil genius or is she using her powers for good? How does she find the willpower to stay up all night staring at the same blueprints? Does she look better before midnight, when she’s still wearing lipstick, or better in the dark hours of the morning, when she’s wiped off all makeup and sits in front of her window, working, in just a sports bra and sweatpants? Korra’s jury is still out on the last one, but she thinks the answer is: both.
“You’re the one who’s been watching her build an evil robot all night,” Iroh says. “You know you don’t live here, right?”
Wrinkling her nose, Korra glances over her shoulder at the disaster that they’ve made of his apartment: textbooks and papers and empty bottles of Red Bull. Iroh lies in the middle of it all, strewn across a layer of wrinkled notes, his legs thrown up on the couch, a textbook sprawled open across his face. His voice is muffled but his tone is clear: she’s lost it.
“You’re the one who wanted to have an all night study session,” she says, turning back to the window. Her coffee is cold by now- disgusting- but she drinks it anyway in her caffeine-fueled 3 a.m. state.
“I kind of envisioned that we’d actually study,” he mumbles from behind her. “You stalking my neighbor wasn’t really what I imagined.”
“I’m not stalking her,” Korra exclaims, indignant at such an accusation. Although that’s kind of what it looks like. She’s tucked between the two curtain panels, determined not to be seen, and she’s been there for… well, a few hours at least. It could be worse… maybe.
“I just want to know what she’s building,” she continues. She watches the woman work: her hair is tied back with a ribbon and she leans in closely to whatever that contraption is, tapping at something Korra can’t see.
“Why don’t you just go ask her?”
“What?” Korra glares back at him. “You want me to go over there at three in the morning and ask her if she’s building an evil robot?”
“Well, you know she’s up.”
Pursing her lips, Korra looks back to the window. The woman continues to work, pulling out her blueprints again to stare at them for a moment before setting them aside and going back to the metal hunk. Suddenly, the woman across the courtyard glances up. Loose strands of dark hair fall into her face as she looks out the window, peering into the darkness, and Korra is so distracted for a moment that several long seconds pass before she realizes the woman is staring right at her.
“Oh God, oh no!”
Korra drops to the floor, hitting the ground with a thud as she ducks beneath the window. She presses her back against the wall and sinks to the floor, wide-eyed and holding her breath. Her thermos clatters to the floor, and coffee spills everywhere anyways.
Iroh sits up, suddenly, the book falling from his face onto the floor. “What? What?”
“She saw me,” Korra hisses. When Iroh stands, her eyes widen and she frantically waves at him. “Get down, get down! She’ll see you!”
He ignores her, instead crossing straight to the window. Korra wraps her arms around his knees, trying to knock him down; he stumbles, smacking her on the hand, but he grabs the window ledge and hangs on.
“What are you doing?” Korra exclaims when he starts to pry the window open.
“I’m doing you a huge favor,” he says, batting her hands away. “Get off me!”
“Never!”
Korra winces when she hears the window creak open, and she glances up just in time to see Iroh stick his head half out, waving a hand to the woman across the courtyard. “Hey,” he calls, and Korra jerks her grip down, sending him tumbling to the ground beside her. Wincing, he sits up.
“What was that for?”
“You ruining my life!” She stands hastily, stumbling to get to her feet, and she moves to close the window and shut the curtains and bury herself in a hole and die of embarrassment, but when she reaches for the window, she sees the women across the courtyard again, sitting there at her own open window, watching and smiling.
“Hey,” the woman calls, waving a lazy hand.
Korra grip tightens on the windowsill, her knuckles turning white. “Oh, hey,” she calls back. “Uh, haha, sorry about my friend…”
“You’ve been watching me all night,” the woman says. Even in the dim light that shines out from her apartment, Korra can see her eyes sparkling.
She knows her cheeks are pink, and Iroh is lying on the floor behind her, kicking her, muttering “ask her out” over and over again, but she just coughs awkwardly and looks to the side. “Yeah,” she calls. “Just, uh, wondering what you’re building over there.”
The woman cocks her head, still smiling, and Korra stops breathing.
“Want to come over and see?” she calls.
Korra stops breathing even more.
“I, uh,” she stutters. She doesn’t know what to say. YES, of course, she wants to come over and see. But it’s three in the morning and she doesn’t even live in this building and all the other neighbors are probably filing complaints about the people who keep yelling in apartment 3B. And she has the biggest exam of her life tomorrow morning. Well, today. In six hours.
Then Iroh places a well-aimed kick to her ass, and Korra loses it for real.
“Yes,” she exclaims, and the woman’s eyes brighten. “I would love to!”
“Apartment 3F,” the woman calls, retreating back into her apartment. “You can help me put the finishing touches on this.”
She pauses, then leans over the window again and says, “My name’s Asami, by the way.”
Asami.
“I’m Korra.”
“I’ll be expecting you shortly, Korra.”
With another smile, she’s gone, and Korra’s breath returns. She grins, turns around, and kicks Iroh out of the way. “Move. I’ve got a date.”