Heroes || A LOK Fanfiction

Chapter 12

Okay, literally this book is going to be SUPER long because I do stuff like this instead of following the actual plot.

"Oh my spirits, these are great!" I smile as I take in another forkful of noodles.

Bolin had taken me to a Water Tribe neighborhood, where The Southern Water Tribe Cultural Center is nearby. We were currently on our 6th bowl of noodles from Narook's Seaweed Noodlery. And if I may say, they are fantastic.

"See, I told you!" Bolin chuckled as he sucked up some more noodles.

"This place has better Water Tribe food than the water tribe" I say while my chopsticks dig into the bowl. "Well, we have salt and grease" Bolin points out, making me nod.

"What's your favorite part about the city?" Bolin asks me, making me set down my chopsticks.

"I think just meeting new people, especially this guy" I say, causing Bolin's face to flush.

"Does he have a job?" Bolin asks as he also sets down his chopsticks. "Well, he's apart of a probending team and has a furry little fire ferret" I smile, my own face heating up.

"Do you want to go on a walk? It's getting hot in here" Bolin chuckles, causing me to nod. We stand up, and he lays down some money before wrapping an arm around my shoulder.

We walk out into the semi-cold air and his eyes gaze into mine.

"Where do you want to go?" he asks, causing me to smile as I already know.

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"Hi Grandpa" I smile as the two of us look up at a statue.

I had led Bolin and I to The Southern Water Tribe Cultural Center, where a statue stood of Sokka and his boomerang, well of course not the real one.

"You know, I still can't believe you're related to Mika and Sokka, like that's totally cool!" Bolin cheers happily as he gazes at the statue.

"Well, maybe when we go find Korra, you can meet Mika" I smile, making Bolin's mouth drop open.

"Mika is still alive!?! The second metal bender in the world is still alive?!?! Oh my spirits" Bolin cheers happily, making me smile.

Ironically, down own the sidewalk, a small street band begins to pluck their instruments, making a sweet melody to play through the air.

Turning back to Bolin, I grasp his hand before pulling myself to him "Want to dance?" I ask.

His face flushes before giving a firm nod.

With a simple flex of his muscles, he twirls me under his arm before leaning me back. Warmth went to my face, turning it red. His breath was on my face, and made it even worse, it smelled like peppermint. I felt like his prey, or for this instance, a bowl of noodles, and Bolin, was well Bolin with chopsticks.