It happened after laundry.

You were staying at Air Temple Island for the week, and Korra had borrowed some of your spare clothes after a surprise waterfall dive. You returned from meditation to find her in your Fire Nation tank top—so oversized it hung off one shoulder and stopped just above her thighs, which were very bare.

“Hey,” you called out, trying to sound casual.

She whipped around like you’d caught her stealing.

“I—I was gonna give it back! I just—! It was warm! And you weren’t using it and—”

“Korra,” you said, gently amused. “You look great in it.”

She blinked.

Then combusted.

Like—mentally.

She turned away instantly, waving her arms like she could erase herself from existence. “N-no I don’t! My thighs are too big! The shirt keeps riding up and—and you probably think I’m weird for smelling like your laundry and—and—”