[ Hei's first instinct is to say I don't want to talk about it. But Korra isn't interested in his vulnerabilities, he knows. Not that way. Most people, in his lifetime, have wanted to believe that they can give him something; most people want to save or destroy something as dangerously volatile as him. Korra, Hei thinks, is more interested in what he can do for himself. She doesn't want to suffocate him sweet, kiss him whole. That's impossible, anyway. But facts are such a noose. Once you state them, they're so difficult to get around. ]

I ...

[ Hei parts his lips soundlessly, and too late realizes that it makes him feel more exposed than ever. He shouldn't have embarked on this at all. It's obscene and impossible He should just let Korra go. Already his relationship with her feels improbable, inapplicable, absurd. What can he have with her, anyway? What can he offer her? Getting caught in the stinging shrapnel of his explosive temper? Separate living-spaces in a strange city, thoughts and lives that he can't discuss? Whatever they have, he should let it go, another moment alchemized to memory. He should just accept it. Move on, alone. It's all he's ever good for. It's all he can really trust. ]

[ At once, a voice whispers: Coward. ]

[ Hei shrugs then, an irritable, uncertain movement, his eyes slipping to and from Korra's face. ] I'm not sure. [ Hilarious, his lethal brain seizing and all his hard-won syntax turning to mush so he can't even express himself. He swallows, trying again. ]

Happy. [ It comes out of nowhere. He repeats it, to make sure he understands, then fixes his gaze on her. ] That day ... I felt happy. And it blindsided me. Because it's never worked out for me before. I just ... had to get away.