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It took a little getting used to, at first. Lipstick was something that belonged to a different kind of girl than Korra was—to girls like Asami, who always looked snazzy and put together like a mover star. Lipstick was for special occasions and only to be applied under extreme duress because the public demanded a girl Avatar look a certain way, reality and personal preferences be damned.
The first time she’d worn it, before Tarrlok’s gala, Pema had sat her down to help her get ready. Pema was an air acolyte, so as a rule she kept things simple, ascetic, because that was what her lifestyle demanded; but Republic City demanded something of her too, and she had special rules for those special occasions. She’d pulled a tube of lipstick out of her makeup bag and twisted it expertly, revealing a dark slash of reddish brown meant darken the color of Korra’s mouth. “It doesn’t taste like anything, I promise.”
Korra had looked at it doubtfully. How could something taste like nothing? Nothing was the absence of everything else.
But she’d let Pema put it on her, in two easy swipes. “I used to do this a lot more as a teenager,” she’d confided, twisting the tube and capping it again. “Before I even thought about joining the air acolytes. But some skills you just never lose. Now, take a look and tell me what you think.”
Korra had, doubtfully. Her reflection had blinked doubtfully back at her, lashes thicker, lips darker. Not her. She’d swiped her tongue out to wet her lips, and they hadn’t tasted like nothing. They’d tasted like something else—waxy, a little salty—too smooth than how they should be, like when she’d pressed her hand to the side of Tarrlok’s car. Wrong.
She’d grabbed for a tissue to wipe the stuff away, and Pema, patient and understanding, had only smiled. “That’s how I usually feel, too.”
But she’s grown to like the taste of lipstick now. It doesn’t taste like nothing, it never did—but something else transformed to mean Asami, and that’s made it okay. That’s made it something she wanted. Korra’s still not a lipstick kind of gal, but if she’s tasting lipstick that means Asami’s kissing her, and that?
That’s more than okay.
Beifong asked her help on one of the latest cases, so there Korra is in the police station, sitting through interrogations and chumming it up with the officers. It’s all terribly routine: the only reason Lin wants her here is because the suspect has probable ties to the former Earth Empire, and Korra’s presence makes him talk.
Korra’s okay with that—helping, without actually having to fight. Once upon a time she would never have even conceived of liking doing that, but it’s nice to have a break. Most of the officers are decent people, and she gets to spend time with Mako, who’s too tied up with work half the time to see his friends.
They’re eating lunch at Mako’s desk, Korra focused on her fried squid, when Mako suddenly says, “Are you wearing lipstick?”
Korra looks up at him.
Mako’s face is bright red—she knows him well enough to know how he thinks, more or less, and she can practically hear him thinking Shit, Mako, how is thatany of your business??? Korra only furrows her brow.
"No?" she replies once she’s swallowed her bite of squid. "I never wear makeup if I can help it."
"Right," Mako agrees hastily. "I knew that. I mean, of course. Sorry."
"Don’t worry about it," Korra says, and they go back to their meals.
A few weeks later she winds up at Air Temple Island on Tenzin’s invitation. Technically she’s an airbending master now, and with Tenzin and Junira spread thin between all of the new airbending recruits, Korra’s help is needed. She doesn’t mind—likes it, in fact. It feels good to feel like she’s needed for something other than fighting someone—that the things she’s capable of can be used to build rather than tear something down.
After the lesson, Korra sneaks away with Jinora and Opal to one of Jinora’s secret spots on the island, a secluded little cliff shadowed by an overhanging grove of trees. They sit with their feet dangling over the edge of the cliff, sharing moon peaches and laughing about the lesson—not about the students, who are trying their best, but about Bumi and Meelo’s attempts to steer the way.
The peaches are ripe and juicy; Korra reaches up to wipe juice from her chin, and when she does she sees Jinora staring at her strangely. ”Did I miss a spot?”
Jinora’s brow furrows. Instead of answering she asks, “Were you wearing lipstick?”
Opal looks up from the view of the arbor to focus on Korra. ”Now that you mention it, her mouth looks different than it did before.”
"Seriously?" Korra says with a laugh. "When have you guys ever known me to wear makeup to anything that’s not a silk-suit event?"
"Never," Jinora agrees, nodding sagely. "But I know what I saw."
"It’s okay if you do," Opal rushes to add. "I still wear it when I can, even though I’m part of the new Air Nation now. Wearing makeup doesn’t say anything about who you are as a person: it’s a personal choice."
If they weren’t perched on the edge of a narrow cliff that could only be reached by careful airbending, Korra would stand up insistently to make her point. Since she can’t, she tosses her hands out in front of her. “Guys, seriously. Who wears makeup to work out? I mean, other than Asami, but—”
She stops. All three girls look at each other. Then Opal smiles, and Jinora grins.
"Well, that solves that question," Opal says, and claps her hands together for emphasis.
"Hey, sweetie," Asami says when she gets home, purse dropped to the floor and portfolio carefully leaned against the wall. She unzips her boots and pulls them off before walking over to where Korra is sitting by the window, the newspaper opened in her lap. "How was your day?"
Korra tilts her head for a better angle just as Asami leans down to kiss her forehead. She grabs Asami’s shoulder and pulls her down to kiss her properly, tongue sweeping out to taste Asami’s mouth briefly before she breaks away to press a kiss to her cheek.
A little breathless, Asami laughs. “Okay. I mean, missed you too, but what was that about?”
"That," Korra says, "was for making everyone think I wear makeup now."
They have a mirror hanging in the living room, and Asami lifts her head just a little to see her reflection blinking back at her, a faint red oval on her cheek. She laughs again. “Oh. I didn’t even realize.”
”Yeah,” Korra says.
"Do you mind?" Asami turns her gaze back to her, concerned with nothing but Korra. "I can see if I can find a different brand, if it bothers you."
Korra smiles. “I don’t mind at all,” she says, and tugs Asami back down for another kiss, lipstick and all.