[ She asks What now? And Hei's mouth goes dry, his stomach dropping and clenching. Cold prickles on his skin. ]
[ He prepares to say something, then visibly scraps it, shaking his head. What, after all, can he say? Say I let these feelings develop. Say I let myself get involved -- actually involved -- with you. Just floating the idea so specifically fills him so full of want and fear, he's buzzing with an instinct to attack. Where has this come from? Two years ago he was cool and dry and desireless as ... as a husk. An ass-kicking husk. It worked so well for him. He'd made a career, a reputation, out of it. ]
[ Everything in Hei's life has been about trying to prove something, even if he'll never acknowledge that. This isn't an exception to the rule, but this time it comes with fine print. It's not about proving something to himself, that he can be smarter and deadlier and sharper than everybody else in the battlefield. Hei might not know what love is, exactly, but he knows what the hell it feels like to feel something genuine rather than pretend you don't. ]
[ It's something he hasn't felt in a while. Because, he hasn't felt. Period. ]
[ He seems to clench and unclench his jaw for a moment, as if gnawing on the words inside his mouth. Blinks silently, and exhales something that doesn't even pretend to be a huff of laughter. Quietly, barely a murmur: ]
Nothing. That's all there is. [ All Korra has to do and read between the lines, and she'll have the power to -- not destroy him -- but kill some revived part of him. All over again. ] You can send me away. Or you can sleep on it. Or you can tell me you don't want to see me again. But you should know ... I feel -- satisfied -- closer to happy -- with --
[ But he stops himself. Drops his gaze, and tilts his head slightly, nodding to Korra as if to substitute that for being unable to say (what had he been going to say? ) you (you?). ]
no subject
[ He prepares to say something, then visibly scraps it, shaking his head. What, after all, can he say? Say I let these feelings develop. Say I let myself get involved -- actually involved -- with you. Just floating the idea so specifically fills him so full of want and fear, he's buzzing with an instinct to attack. Where has this come from? Two years ago he was cool and dry and desireless as ... as a husk. An ass-kicking husk. It worked so well for him. He'd made a career, a reputation, out of it. ]
[ Everything in Hei's life has been about trying to prove something, even if he'll never acknowledge that. This isn't an exception to the rule, but this time it comes with fine print. It's not about proving something to himself, that he can be smarter and deadlier and sharper than everybody else in the battlefield. Hei might not know what love is, exactly, but he knows what the hell it feels like to feel something genuine rather than pretend you don't. ]
[ It's something he hasn't felt in a while. Because, he hasn't felt. Period. ]
[ He seems to clench and unclench his jaw for a moment, as if gnawing on the words inside his mouth. Blinks silently, and exhales something that doesn't even pretend to be a huff of laughter. Quietly, barely a murmur: ]
Nothing. That's all there is. [ All Korra has to do and read between the lines, and she'll have the power to -- not destroy him -- but kill some revived part of him. All over again. ] You can send me away. Or you can sleep on it. Or you can tell me you don't want to see me again. But you should know ... I feel -- satisfied -- closer to happy -- with --
[ But he stops himself. Drops his gaze, and tilts his head slightly, nodding to Korra as if to substitute that for being unable to say (what had he been going to say? ) you (you?). ]