[ That's all it's about for you, isn't it? Knowing there's a way out. Knowing you can take it any time without losing face. ]
[ Hei doesn't say that. He's too far beyond being allowed to pass judgements on her. An exit strategy is something he understands perfectly. He won't begrudge her for laying out hers. Battered, bruised, swung from pillar to post -- he appreciates the risk she's taking, getting into something she has no frame of reference for. No past experiences to guide her with. At the same time, an inner-voice prompts, Like you're any better off? It makes him feel stupid, getting into this mess, like he's knocking his head against a wall. His palms tingle; he flexes his hands. Korra feel like a blurry bright-and-dark mass in front of him. ]
[ Why am I setting myself up for more bullshit? ]
[ He's a walking disaster of human relationships. Anyone close to him knows that. Except he can't drag himself away now. It'd be like going out an airlock. Instead he lets her state her terms. Lets her snatch at some shred of control. Privately he wonders how much any of it is worth. Promises and yes' and no's; he's never been good at that concreteness. Never been good at permanence. Everything is transitory -- here, or back home. Everything will fade, vanish in airplane windows and rearview mirrors because that's the existence he's trained for. ]
[ But once he's laid out a path, Hei's never been one to deviate. Never been one to give up. Fear is no reason to turn tail and run. ]
I understand. [ A steady gaze and a quiet tone, but there's nothing evasive about it. ] Anything else? [ Monogamy? Check-ins? The usual 20 questions? ] Since it's balls on the table anyway. And since I won't expect anything other than you. I'm sure you expect the same.
Sunday! \^^/
[ Hei doesn't say that. He's too far beyond being allowed to pass judgements on her. An exit strategy is something he understands perfectly. He won't begrudge her for laying out hers. Battered, bruised, swung from pillar to post -- he appreciates the risk she's taking, getting into something she has no frame of reference for. No past experiences to guide her with. At the same time, an inner-voice prompts, Like you're any better off? It makes him feel stupid, getting into this mess, like he's knocking his head against a wall. His palms tingle; he flexes his hands. Korra feel like a blurry bright-and-dark mass in front of him. ]
[ Why am I setting myself up for more bullshit? ]
[ He's a walking disaster of human relationships. Anyone close to him knows that. Except he can't drag himself away now. It'd be like going out an airlock. Instead he lets her state her terms. Lets her snatch at some shred of control. Privately he wonders how much any of it is worth. Promises and yes' and no's; he's never been good at that concreteness. Never been good at permanence. Everything is transitory -- here, or back home. Everything will fade, vanish in airplane windows and rearview mirrors because that's the existence he's trained for. ]
[ But once he's laid out a path, Hei's never been one to deviate. Never been one to give up. Fear is no reason to turn tail and run. ]
I understand. [ A steady gaze and a quiet tone, but there's nothing evasive about it. ] Anything else? [ Monogamy? Check-ins? The usual 20 questions? ] Since it's balls on the table anyway. And since I won't expect anything other than you. I'm sure you expect the same.