metallicsoldier-deactivated2018:
The frigid metallic layers sounded in echos with each sheet that ran closer to Korra timid neck, the begging urge to slice the thin skin protecting and containing the needed blood kelp within. “Go on, tell me how much you know me, understand me. We will see how far you get.” Kuvira coldly whispered, challenging her in such a dullard manner.
The blade being held to her skin is thin and cold, threatening to push through and kiss the deep flesh of her neck. It’s easy to get herself out of this, the scenario in her mind makes it seem that way. It could be right or it could be wrong.
She admits she’s afraid, half because of the knife on her skin and the other half because this woman, this tyrant; is without question going to kill her and feel nothing of the act she’s committed.
Words won’t work just yet, she needs to have the upper hand and she’s going to get it but it’s risky. Her left heel quickly but with power, makes contact with the ground and slides a piece of earth out from under Kuvira’s own feet and Korra just barely has time to move from the blade that jerks forward quickly with the slip; allowing her to make a steady grab for it and get it in her possession, now having the tables turn.
❝ You try so hard to be cold, to be strong and independent, to need nobody. But that’s the exact opposite of what you really want isn’t it. You don’t want to be weak, but allowing your walls and this entire city you’ve built around yourself to finally come down, would mean being weak to you. But that’s not true. You’re scared. You’re scared of being left on your own again, so you do the job they would do and you allow yourself to be alone and to feel unwanted. ❞
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