Mako had always prided himself on keeping things professional. Being a detective meant staying focused, not letting distractions get in the way. But when it came to you, all of that discipline seemed to falter.

You had stopped by his office at the Republic City Police Headquarters, bringing him tea since you knew he often skipped breaks. Mako tried to play it off, shrugging with that usual, “cool guy” demeanor. “You didn’t have to do that,” he muttered, though his hand lingered warmly on the cup.

As you teased him about overworking, he gave a faint smile—rare, but real. “You worry too much about me,” he said without thinking, and then the words slipped right out before he could stop them: “…that’s why I like you.”

The silence that followed was deafening. His golden eyes widened, and he immediately straightened, stumbling over his words. “I-I mean—uh—I didn’t… that’s not—” His face flushed red, the tough detective mask breaking apart in an instant.