Fluffy future-fic Borra, and I do not own either of the characters. That's all you need to know.
They both woke at once to the sound of fluttering.
For a moment Korra dismissed it – leaves, wind, sparrow-jays roosting in the eaves – but none of those were right. In another moment, she realized that a moth had found its way into the darkened lantern at their bedside. It thumped dusty wings against the glass globe, dipping and veering and batting about like some small but insistent idea.
Nothing, she thought. It was nothing.
Her eyes slid shut again.
But then Bolin propped himself up on one elbow, disentangled their limbs and started to fumble his way over her. Cold air filled the space where her husband's body had fit beside hers; his knee also dug against the soft muscles just below her ribcage, driving all the breath from her, so Korra dealt him a swat for good measure.
"Watch it, Chief."
"Sorry, sorry, hol' on –"
He lifted the lantern's glass away. A white moth wavered out, bewildered, and he caught it inside the circle of his wide, knob-knuckled hands.
"I can't re – " he yawned, popping stiffness from his jaw, "can't remember whether it's bad luck to kill these guys or not. Or tha' might be bu–" another yawn, "– uhhhh, butterflies. Which one it is that makes the silk?"
"Moths," Korra replied. "My earthbending teacher kept a bunch of 'em in her suh…sock drawer." Oh, now he'd gotten her yawning too. "She let me name one Bonzu Pipinpadaloxicopolis."
"Mmm. Thas' nice."
With a light and tired mind, Korra watched him pad his way across the floor. It was a cool night for midsummer, so the window was drawn closed. A bump of his elbow threw the latch. Both shutters swung open. A scent night-blooming jasmine floated toward her.
Then Bolin raised both hands high and unclasped them. The moth levitated over his palms, unsure of what to do next.
"Alright, buddy," he nodded. "Off you go."
The moth took this order well, danced one more erratic loop with its pale body flashing, and floated off into the night like a piece of folded paper. Bolin watched it go.
Korra, in turn, watched him; moonlight sharpened the outline of his shoulders, which she knew by now were strong enough to bear most burdens without complaint, and her heart contracted oddly at the sight.
And after letting her gaze press against his back for a little while longer, Bolin turned around.
"What?" he asked.
Korra smiled secretively.
He walked over again, careful not to land on her this time as he curled himself in place, and one heavy arm drew her head close to rest against the crook of his neck.
The gesture of his hand left white wing-dust in her hair.
Thanks for reading! Any and all comments or critiques are welcome.