The garden was cold and lonely with Bolin gone, and Asami walked slowly amongst the statues, reliving every moment she’d spent with him that day. He’d made her laugh more than she’d ever laughed before. And she’d never felt so strong as she did with him touching her.
She would not (could not) hurt him.
And Asami sighed, knowing that–
“Hello, Asami, sweetheart.”
–her father would appear any time, a burst of electricity lighting his way.