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[ Hei tastes the blood on his tongue, a smudge of metallic rust, but despite the murmur at the back of his mind that's equal parts Unhygienic and Risky, he licks the taste from the corners of her mouth with an unrepentant purr. The moment is enjoyable for how languorous it is, but now he lures her closer against him. No longer restraining, but surging up under her, tight short strokes, his low gasps building toward a rhythm timed with his movements as his thumb rubs harder against her slick clit. ]
[ His look is dark-eyed and dreamy, but somehow silent as space, as if he's hanging in an ether between freedom and exquisite restraint. ]
[ His look is dark-eyed and dreamy, but somehow silent as space, as if he's hanging in an ether between freedom and exquisite restraint. ]
[Finally. She might have groaned that against his mouth.
The look in his eyes disconcerts her just a little. It's not that frightening detachment he gets sometimes, but she doesn't know what to make of it. She clenches around him and drags her nails hard down his chest, leaving a trail of angry red marks on his body, trying to drag him back down with her.]
The look in his eyes disconcerts her just a little. It's not that frightening detachment he gets sometimes, but she doesn't know what to make of it. She clenches around him and drags her nails hard down his chest, leaving a trail of angry red marks on his body, trying to drag him back down with her.]
[ The hot red furrows her nails leave in his skin are tame in comparison to the games he's used to. But that's not a complaint. Pain mixed in with softness -- somehow both of them hurt like a bitch, but tonight he needs that mutability. His thumb circles tight between her legs and Hei can no longer control his ragged breathing, the way she clenches around him. His free hand digs into the jut of her hips, the pads of fingers giving just as good as she does -- her body will be a canvas of bruises when this is over. ]
This is -- [ He doesn't mean to speak, and bites the sentence off on a grunt, burying his mouth in her neck, too far gone to finish. This is better than a brawl. They're pressed too close now, torso to torso, sweat gluing their skins together. He keeps his eyes closed, taking a mental snapshot of the moment. Each breath, each motion, a sipping sigh, a wicked slide, thaws a cold inside him, opens what's been locked up. ]
[ But he's not sure if it's a relief or a disquiet. ]
This is -- [ He doesn't mean to speak, and bites the sentence off on a grunt, burying his mouth in her neck, too far gone to finish. This is better than a brawl. They're pressed too close now, torso to torso, sweat gluing their skins together. He keeps his eyes closed, taking a mental snapshot of the moment. Each breath, each motion, a sipping sigh, a wicked slide, thaws a cold inside him, opens what's been locked up. ]
[ But he's not sure if it's a relief or a disquiet. ]
[ Hei shakes his head -- denial, dismissal, mouthing a half-breathless, Nothing into the crook of her neck. His fingers dig deeper into her hips as he leans in to bite at her mouth, punctuating the kiss with a light flicking to her clit. He's moving in a rhythm that's all urgency now, trading air between them in a heavy percussion of pressure and friction. Challenges to the gravity of centrifugal force. With every thumping pulse an echo to the sharp twitches of tension coiling through him -- a handspan away from snapping apart. ]
[He's rewarded with little whimpers, almost begging. She tangles her fingers in his hair and pulls hard. She wants to push him over that edge, feel him shudder and break beneath her.
He's gotten her off three times tonight, and she's only gotten him off once. This is unacceptable.]
He's gotten her off three times tonight, and she's only gotten him off once. This is unacceptable.]
[ Old habits (selfishness) die hard, and in this case Hei's too near the edge to bother with niceties like mutual pace and satisfaction. She yanks his hair and he makes a sharp noise, like his breath's being torn from his throat. It's not just the sting of it that goes straight to his groin but but the way Korra sounds, all breath and tiny mewing pleas. His head tips back against the pillows, and he bites his bottom lip as hard as he can to keep himself quiet. For a split second his face opens, a brief spark, years and distrust slipping away, replaced by ... ]
Fuck.
[ Whatever it is, he hides in the sweaty hollow of Korra's shoulder. Gripping her hips in both hands now, he jerks up under her, tipping into the inexorable blood-red climax, his whole body tensing on a long shudder. He doesn't make a sound, but his stuttered breathing is telling enough, as he lets the last shocks burst inside him, shake him, then ripple away. And as they do, he allows his boneless body to collapse underneath her, to be finally, dizzyingly still. ]
Fuck.
[ Whatever it is, he hides in the sweaty hollow of Korra's shoulder. Gripping her hips in both hands now, he jerks up under her, tipping into the inexorable blood-red climax, his whole body tensing on a long shudder. He doesn't make a sound, but his stuttered breathing is telling enough, as he lets the last shocks burst inside him, shake him, then ripple away. And as they do, he allows his boneless body to collapse underneath her, to be finally, dizzyingly still. ]
[The pressure of his release isn't enough to tip her over the edge, but the tension in his body and his staggered breathing is pleasure enough. She rocks slowly, easing him through to the end of his climax, until he melts beneath her. She can feel the sharp ache of her own desire recede like the tide.
She doesn't roll off of him right away. She likes cuddles, and she can't resist taking advantage of his exhaustion to just rest against him. She wraps her arms loosely around his neck in an almost-hug. But she doesn't want to push her luck. She savors it for just a moment and then rolls off of him. She lies on her shoulder, watching his face with a little twitchy smile. She rests a hand on his stomach -- not quite a hug and not quite a cuddle, but it serves the same purpose.]
She doesn't roll off of him right away. She likes cuddles, and she can't resist taking advantage of his exhaustion to just rest against him. She wraps her arms loosely around his neck in an almost-hug. But she doesn't want to push her luck. She savors it for just a moment and then rolls off of him. She lies on her shoulder, watching his face with a little twitchy smile. She rests a hand on his stomach -- not quite a hug and not quite a cuddle, but it serves the same purpose.]
[ Hei's hair sticks damply to his eyes and forehead. He combs it back with his fingers, letting a palm rest on his face so no light can get in, while his breathing settles into that lazy in-out of frazzled contentment. He makes no sound of either protest or approval when Korra rolls off him, but he lets her pillow her head in his shoulder. Lying this close to him, she can probably see his eyes peeking out from between his fingers, half-lidded with drowsiness, fixed on nothing out of sated softness. ]
[ The temptation to fall asleep is very real. But after a few moments he shakes the Sandman's dustmotes off his mind. Stretching to work the kinks from his muscles, his sits up, Korra's hand a warm little weight on his stomach. He squeezes it for a moment, running a thumb over the knuckles, then gently pushes it off. While he's vaguely sure she didn't cross the finish-line with him, he's never been one to ask, Did you come? If she wants his attention she'll let him know. Right now, mind defragmenting to its original mode, he has a condom to get rid of, and maybe room service to order. ]
[ The temptation to fall asleep is very real. But after a few moments he shakes the Sandman's dustmotes off his mind. Stretching to work the kinks from his muscles, his sits up, Korra's hand a warm little weight on his stomach. He squeezes it for a moment, running a thumb over the knuckles, then gently pushes it off. While he's vaguely sure she didn't cross the finish-line with him, he's never been one to ask, Did you come? If she wants his attention she'll let him know. Right now, mind defragmenting to its original mode, he has a condom to get rid of, and maybe room service to order. ]
[Oh, stretching. That is an awesome idea. Once he gets up, she takes the opportunity to do a full body stretch -- the languorous, delicious, slept-forever kind of stretch -- then she sits up for some more serious stretching. She almost laughs at how many bruises cover her body. It's a good thing the weather hasn't gotten too warm yet, because she has no idea how she'd hide them in her preferred tank tops. (Good thing too she isn't probending either, she thinks as her muscles complain.)
She contemplates getting out of bed and taking a quick shower. She's sticky and sweaty and more than a little gross. But the bed is too comfortable. When her legs are sufficiently stretched out, she falls back against the pillow and let out a contented sigh.
Questions and insecurities will return soon enough, but for right now, she's happy enough to keep them at bay.]
She contemplates getting out of bed and taking a quick shower. She's sticky and sweaty and more than a little gross. But the bed is too comfortable. When her legs are sufficiently stretched out, she falls back against the pillow and let out a contented sigh.
Questions and insecurities will return soon enough, but for right now, she's happy enough to keep them at bay.]
[ Catching sight of Korra arching like a cat on the bed, Hei fights a slight smile, and a bubbling uncharacteristic urge to just laze with her a moment more. But his feet are already propelling him upright and out of the bed. In the bathroom, the bright fluorescent lights hurting his eyes, he locks himself in. He senses that there are reams of awkward things Korra might want to ask him later, but right now he's in no mood to handle that. Already, with each step away from her, the chill and distance is descending. It's a sad feeling but somehow also necessary -- as if that prior weekend, cursed and unfettered, has shaken all the bits of his armor loose, and he needs to retreat to the privacy of his own mind to reassemble them. ]
[ In the mirror he's all eyes, with dark rings around them. It hits then, like a knife to the gut -- he can see all the faces in the white tiles around him, their whispers pressing in, an indistinguishable wave encroached by a bitter nausea within. Hei shuts his eyes, because he doesn't know how to suffer scruples, how to dissect right from wrong in a bath of self-interest and endless hours to think. It's all too new and confusing, and makes his head ache. ]
[ In the shower, he turns the water up deeply cold, turning his face up to the high pressure needles. Gasps, swallows some with thirst, coughing, and lets it beat against his face. Cleaned up, towelled dry, he waits until his face is as blank as his thoughts, before he steps out. Avoiding Korra's eyes, he makes a beeline for the phone, lifting it off its cradle. His voice is businesslike. ]
...Hungry?
[ In the mirror he's all eyes, with dark rings around them. It hits then, like a knife to the gut -- he can see all the faces in the white tiles around him, their whispers pressing in, an indistinguishable wave encroached by a bitter nausea within. Hei shuts his eyes, because he doesn't know how to suffer scruples, how to dissect right from wrong in a bath of self-interest and endless hours to think. It's all too new and confusing, and makes his head ache. ]
[ In the shower, he turns the water up deeply cold, turning his face up to the high pressure needles. Gasps, swallows some with thirst, coughing, and lets it beat against his face. Cleaned up, towelled dry, he waits until his face is as blank as his thoughts, before he steps out. Avoiding Korra's eyes, he makes a beeline for the phone, lifting it off its cradle. His voice is businesslike. ]
...Hungry?
[He doesn't have to worry about avoiding her eyes. While he had been showering, Korra had burrowed under the blankets. She's been up for somewhere around 21 hours, and by the time he's out of the shower, she's two-thirds asleep.
Which is fortunate for both of them. She stirs when he speaks, but exhaustion keeps her from registering the blankness in his expression and the detachment in his voice.]
Hm?
Which is fortunate for both of them. She stirs when he speaks, but exhaustion keeps her from registering the blankness in his expression and the detachment in his voice.]
Hm?
[ A sense of relief creeps over Hei when he sees her half-asleep. It circumvents any awkwardness for one. For another ... He's aware of that cool look on his face slipping away, replaced by something mild and fond, even if it's dulled. There are certain things -- maybe too many -- about Korra, that evoke Pai. The ease of motion. The form, seen in the dark, where the different build and skin tone are less obvious. The disorder of her dark hair. The bright eyes, half-lidded and drowsy. Settling on the bed, by her shoulder, he experiences something almost like affection. Her sleepy murmur lets him take liberties. Like smoothing his fingers -- very gently -- through her hair. And leaning forward to touch his cool lips to her warm forehead. ]
Nothing. [ He can order up and eat by himself. Reheating leftovers is always an option later -- when he wakes her up for another go-round. Because he will. In the meantime he cards a slow hand through her hair, murmuring, ] Get some sleep. [ He's too wired to follow her. But he's well-acquainted with the vicarious satisfaction of watching someone sleep in his place. ]
Nothing. [ He can order up and eat by himself. Reheating leftovers is always an option later -- when he wakes her up for another go-round. Because he will. In the meantime he cards a slow hand through her hair, murmuring, ] Get some sleep. [ He's too wired to follow her. But he's well-acquainted with the vicarious satisfaction of watching someone sleep in his place. ]
[She hums contentedly as he strokes her hair, her lips twitching a sleepy smile at the press of his lips. She snuggles deeper into the pillows (so very soft compared to her own, which won't do any favors for her neck but right now feels amazing) and drifts deeper into sleep.
She wants to say Wake me up before you leave, knowing his tendency to vanish, but she's unconscious before the words reach her lips.]
She wants to say Wake me up before you leave, knowing his tendency to vanish, but she's unconscious before the words reach her lips.]
[ When her breathing descends into slumber, Hei slumps, by slow degrees, at the foot of the bed, leaning forward on his knees and raking both hands through his damp hair. It's better this way, the dim lights and the twinkling view from the window, Korra's quiet inhales and exhales in the background. Let her sleep her hopeful sleep. He has enough on his mind in the meanwhile. Better for the insomniacs -- or maybe just the maniacs -- to leave those who can still rest to get on with it. ]
[ (He won't wake her up when he leaves, no. But there'll be a ballpoint message scribbled on her arm in the morning -- You kick a lot in your sleep -- and a covered tray of cold food on the dresser.) ]
[ (He won't wake her up when he leaves, no. But there'll be a ballpoint message scribbled on her arm in the morning -- You kick a lot in your sleep -- and a covered tray of cold food on the dresser.) ]
[ Hei has never bailed anyone out of jail before. ]
[ Why would he? The Syndicate and the police are eternally at cross purposes. He's never sent any of his own enemies up the river. If you cross paths with BK201 -- or with the Syndicate itself -- you're generally eliminated, unless your usefulness outweighs your loss. The organization and its employees like to serve things cold. In a way, for Hei, this is one step up from confronting one of his own victims, post-mission. The closest he's come in that department is to interacting with marks as 'Li', while scheming to assassinate them behind-the-scenes as Hei. ]
[ Except what happened at the bar wasn't a mission. ]
[ Last night, after leaving the crime-scene, he'd retreated to his safe-house and spent a few sleepless hours on the training mat and the pommel horse. He'd glimpsed on his cameras that there were police in the bar's vicinity. And while he was reasonably sure there was no surveillance system in the bar itself, it seemed smarter to lie low. He'd had enough bullshit -- and close calls -- the past few weeks to last him decades. By the time he'd gotten word that Korra had been arrested for perpetrating the scuffle, Hei was ready to zap the neurons in his brain and knock himself out for a 24-hour nap. It was much better than facing his waking thoughts. ]
[ Instead he finds himself at the police station. Caught in the unenviable task of learning how bail works in a city with an ad hoc judicial system. Bleary-eyed and thin-lipped, in a black funnel-necked sweater and jeans, he looks nothing like 'Li' -- more like a tired parent driven from bed in the middle of the night by their party-crazed teenager. (It couldn't be less true. But confessing I'm Korra's partner-in-crime won't help either of their cases.) ]
[ Why would he? The Syndicate and the police are eternally at cross purposes. He's never sent any of his own enemies up the river. If you cross paths with BK201 -- or with the Syndicate itself -- you're generally eliminated, unless your usefulness outweighs your loss. The organization and its employees like to serve things cold. In a way, for Hei, this is one step up from confronting one of his own victims, post-mission. The closest he's come in that department is to interacting with marks as 'Li', while scheming to assassinate them behind-the-scenes as Hei. ]
[ Except what happened at the bar wasn't a mission. ]
[ Last night, after leaving the crime-scene, he'd retreated to his safe-house and spent a few sleepless hours on the training mat and the pommel horse. He'd glimpsed on his cameras that there were police in the bar's vicinity. And while he was reasonably sure there was no surveillance system in the bar itself, it seemed smarter to lie low. He'd had enough bullshit -- and close calls -- the past few weeks to last him decades. By the time he'd gotten word that Korra had been arrested for perpetrating the scuffle, Hei was ready to zap the neurons in his brain and knock himself out for a 24-hour nap. It was much better than facing his waking thoughts. ]
[ Instead he finds himself at the police station. Caught in the unenviable task of learning how bail works in a city with an ad hoc judicial system. Bleary-eyed and thin-lipped, in a black funnel-necked sweater and jeans, he looks nothing like 'Li' -- more like a tired parent driven from bed in the middle of the night by their party-crazed teenager. (It couldn't be less true. But confessing I'm Korra's partner-in-crime won't help either of their cases.) ]
[They had offered to call Chief Bei Fong to get her, and Korra had said no, there wasn't any point in waking her up. (She wanted to put off explaining exactly what happened for as long as possible. She and Jinora wouldn't worry; they were expecting her to be working until the wee hours of the night anyway.) So they put her in an empty cell, and Korra had settled down on the hard bed for a long night.
At least Chekov is okay.
She stares up at the ceiling, lost in thought. Her tongue worries at her chipped back tooth, poking at the unfamiliar edges. Her mind spins through the events of the night over and over again, an infinite loop that's getting her nowhere, just more miserable.
She's surprised when an officer unlocks the door, saying she's been bailed out, and a little pissed. Either Chekov's out of the hospital already, or they went against her wishes and called the Chief. The last thing she expects when she's escorted to the waiting area is to see Hei. Her expression darkens and her blood burns.]
You.
At least Chekov is okay.
She stares up at the ceiling, lost in thought. Her tongue worries at her chipped back tooth, poking at the unfamiliar edges. Her mind spins through the events of the night over and over again, an infinite loop that's getting her nowhere, just more miserable.
She's surprised when an officer unlocks the door, saying she's been bailed out, and a little pissed. Either Chekov's out of the hospital already, or they went against her wishes and called the Chief. The last thing she expects when she's escorted to the waiting area is to see Hei. Her expression darkens and her blood burns.]
You.
[ In the time it takes to handle the last of the paperwork, and let Korra out, Hei has become intimately acquainted with the black vinyl chairs, the white floor tile, the buzzing fluorescent lights, the bitter coffee dispensed by a gurgling machine into thin paper cups, and a few dogeared magazines on the table. There's a mirrored door directly across him; he avoids looking at his own reflection -- the red-rimmed eyes with shadows extending halfway down his nose, and cheeks gray with stubble. His whole body is leaden from exhaustion, and throbbing with old wounds as he slumps forward, elbows on knees. ]
[ But his gaze stays fixed on the door ahead. ]
[ When Korra finally steps through, he offers no reaction. But inside, a weird pity for her disheveled appearance wells up, squelching like slime around a boot. He wants to match her anger; being angry is easier. Rising to his feet, he half-expects that someone will collar him -- there's so much accusation in that simple You. In fact, he almost wishes, as he steps over to her, hands clenched in pockets, shoulders high, that someone would. ]
Come on. [ His voice is uncharacteristically small. Without glancing at her, he begins heading for the exit. ]
[ But his gaze stays fixed on the door ahead. ]
[ When Korra finally steps through, he offers no reaction. But inside, a weird pity for her disheveled appearance wells up, squelching like slime around a boot. He wants to match her anger; being angry is easier. Rising to his feet, he half-expects that someone will collar him -- there's so much accusation in that simple You. In fact, he almost wishes, as he steps over to her, hands clenched in pockets, shoulders high, that someone would. ]
Come on. [ His voice is uncharacteristically small. Without glancing at her, he begins heading for the exit. ]
[She almost doesn't. She almost turns around to go back into the jail cell. She can see the officer giving her a funny look as she lingers too long, and Korra wonders how much she'll tell Chief Bei Fong.
In the end, she follows. Not because she doesn't want to explain things to the Chief, but because his tiny, quiet voice tugs at her.
She hates him for that.
She doesn't speak until they're a good distance from the station.]
What are you doing here?
In the end, she follows. Not because she doesn't want to explain things to the Chief, but because his tiny, quiet voice tugs at her.
She hates him for that.
She doesn't speak until they're a good distance from the station.]
What are you doing here?
[ Hei senses her hesitation without having to glance behind him. He doesn't blame her. The girl is probably furious at him anyway, after he'd half-demolished her bar and treated her so brutally and fled into the night. That was real mannish of him for sure. He wants to look back to see if she's following, but doesn't. Steps out instead, counting to himself as he goes. Feels the tug of the invisible lead -- yeah. Here she comes. In another moment she's drifting after him; he can feel her movements in his spine, along the back of his neck, same as with Amber or Pai. ]
[ The streets are half-deserted; there are no lights glowing in the windows around them. Only colored streetlamps and shadowed corners, that make an abstract pattern across Hei's face when he glances at her. The gaze he returns for her stare is mild, neutral. ] Bailing you out. [ No angles, no ulterior motives. There's a beat in which he turns a trayload of words around -- Are you okay? and What happened to Chekov? and Have you told Bei Fong? before settling on, ] If you want to head home, you can. [ There are things he needs to discuss with her. But he tells himself they can wait. ]
[ The streets are half-deserted; there are no lights glowing in the windows around them. Only colored streetlamps and shadowed corners, that make an abstract pattern across Hei's face when he glances at her. The gaze he returns for her stare is mild, neutral. ] Bailing you out. [ No angles, no ulterior motives. There's a beat in which he turns a trayload of words around -- Are you okay? and What happened to Chekov? and Have you told Bei Fong? before settling on, ] If you want to head home, you can. [ There are things he needs to discuss with her. But he tells himself they can wait. ]
[She crosses her arms protectively. She doesn't want to go home, but she doesn't want to be with him. She doesn't want anything that's actually possible -- that tonight never happened, that he wouldn't be so cruel, that her parents were here, that she had her bending back. There isn't any point to doing things based on what she wants right now.]
Why?
[She doesn't believe he has no agenda. She's known him for almost a year now; she knows better. He always has something up his sleeve, some game he's playing, though she can rarely figure out what it is.]
Why?
[She doesn't believe he has no agenda. She's known him for almost a year now; she knows better. He always has something up his sleeve, some game he's playing, though she can rarely figure out what it is.]
[ To her credit, she's right that he's rarely without an agenda. But tonight -- after the disaster at the bar -- the concreteness of his self-preservation, his designs, is fading by the hour. He's running on autopilot, adrenaline bubbling at the corners to feed a listless daze. Part of him almost wants to sweep her up, to beg her pardon, be forgiven, then fucked back into a more cheerful state of mind. No recollections of the past night; zero worries about any future. There's a lot to be said, isn't there, for living in the ever-present moment, casting eyes neither forwards nor backwards? She makes him feel human, if not happy -- and isn't that better than nothing? Isn't that all there need be to it? ]
[ Be nice to the girl. Work. Play. Could be a pleasant stay, while he's in the City. ]
[ Or it would be, if he weren't so inherently unfit to be near her. He's not a person. He's an infection eating away at Korra's corners, acidic, relentless, ready to devour any scrap of warmth until she's completely emptied. ]
[ She will end up empty, if this continues. ]
Why bail you out? Or why should you head home? [ He sounds so tired, like it's more effort than he can summon just to pronounce his words. But he answers both questions without waiting for clarification. ] Because you were in prison thanks to what I started. And because it's been a long night. You have no reason to hang around me.
[ Be nice to the girl. Work. Play. Could be a pleasant stay, while he's in the City. ]
[ Or it would be, if he weren't so inherently unfit to be near her. He's not a person. He's an infection eating away at Korra's corners, acidic, relentless, ready to devour any scrap of warmth until she's completely emptied. ]
[ She will end up empty, if this continues. ]
Why bail you out? Or why should you head home? [ He sounds so tired, like it's more effort than he can summon just to pronounce his words. But he answers both questions without waiting for clarification. ] Because you were in prison thanks to what I started. And because it's been a long night. You have no reason to hang around me.
[No, she doesn't, though it pisses her off to hear him say it. Even when exhausted and beaten down, he acts like he's the freaking Fire Lord or something, as though where she is, what she does, is under his control. Giving her "permission" to leave him, telling her she has no reason to stay. (The sentiment isn't entirely fair, but he's always been so controlling that it can be hard to see his behavior in any other light. Especially tonight.)
There are a million good reasons to leave. Her only reason to stay is a vague feeling that he wants her gone, a suspicion that it would be easier for him if she left and she doesn't want to make things easier for him. She watches him silently, waiting for something, her eyes stabbing him with anger and hurt.
(Perhaps what she's really waiting for is for him to say something that will make her own pain go away, but that is far from her conscious thoughts.)]
There are a million good reasons to leave. Her only reason to stay is a vague feeling that he wants her gone, a suspicion that it would be easier for him if she left and she doesn't want to make things easier for him. She watches him silently, waiting for something, her eyes stabbing him with anger and hurt.
(Perhaps what she's really waiting for is for him to say something that will make her own pain go away, but that is far from her conscious thoughts.)]
[ Hei can't help the peremptory way he addresses her; it's not deliberate, simply a byproduct of decades in combat, snatching at control and learning to wield its nuances against enemies. (Maybe if she were older, more perceptive, she'd recognize his manner as that of a young man who'd always had to assert himself, to seem scarier than he was. Black Reaper -- that was the appellation he'd earned, and what he'd had to style himself as, for Pai's benefit. He'd learnt to wear the mask until it fit better than his own skin ever could.) ]
[ But no, he doesn't want her gone. Not really. It's true, he plans to introduce a difficult conversation. One he'd rather avoid. But tonight is a night for disasters and difficulties anyway. What's another one to go with the pile? Her eyes are so bright they almost sear, and he averts his gaze for a moment. His hands flex in his pockets; he chews the inside of his cheek, mapping his next step. ]
[ Finally, ]
Will you walk with me? [ It's quiet and unpressing, but stops just short of arrogant indifference. Because he does care if she refuses, but it's not his place to force her. ]
[ But no, he doesn't want her gone. Not really. It's true, he plans to introduce a difficult conversation. One he'd rather avoid. But tonight is a night for disasters and difficulties anyway. What's another one to go with the pile? Her eyes are so bright they almost sear, and he averts his gaze for a moment. His hands flex in his pockets; he chews the inside of his cheek, mapping his next step. ]
[ Finally, ]
Will you walk with me? [ It's quiet and unpressing, but stops just short of arrogant indifference. Because he does care if she refuses, but it's not his place to force her. ]
[(If she were older, maybe. She's not lacking in perception, but there's a limit to what you can understand when you've seen as little of the world as she has.)
It's hard to make a decision when you don't like either of your options. After a long moment's hesitation, she nods yes, simply because he asked, with no hint of manipulation or attempt to control.
She keeps her distance as they walk, her body taut, ready to defend itself at any moment from whatever threat he might make. But she's listening.]
It's hard to make a decision when you don't like either of your options. After a long moment's hesitation, she nods yes, simply because he asked, with no hint of manipulation or attempt to control.
She keeps her distance as they walk, her body taut, ready to defend itself at any moment from whatever threat he might make. But she's listening.]
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