[ Come here? Hei's gaze flickers, as if confused. When she draws him in, he almost tenses at it. It's fucked up, how for a moment he's genuinely fucking terrified, and then Korra's hands slide around him, and she draws him into that lovely warm declivity her body's made in the mattress. He thinks about shoving her off, but doesn't. Just her proximity makes it harder for him to resist. He has no control. The arm around Korra's waist speaks of it, no matter how affectionate, how protective it might be. ]
[ But now that he's lying down, he feels heavy, his brain slow, but excited too, by being here, by acting as if this is just the normal thing they do. He lets the seconds tick by. Drops his head to Korra's, then, and sighs a long sigh, breathing in the smell of her hair, because something about that particular warm crisp scent speaks of a short but bright existence made out of beginnings and beginnings and beginnings until the final end, which is far away. ]
[ Ir feels -- not like freedom and not quite like flying. (He knows better than to think a single person will ever be able to fill that gap, except Pai.) But fuck if it isn't close, if every part of him wants to pull Korra tighter in and have a repeat performance of that ruined evening, again and again, with the fiercest kind of longing. ]
[ Instead, angling his head, he kisses her the way he's never done yet, soft and lingering. Not the way he used to kiss Amber. Just the way he kisses Korra. He tries to put into it all the warmth he'd once longed for for himself. That he can no longer find anywhere, since the sky fell around him and Pai. ]
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[ But now that he's lying down, he feels heavy, his brain slow, but excited too, by being here, by acting as if this is just the normal thing they do. He lets the seconds tick by. Drops his head to Korra's, then, and sighs a long sigh, breathing in the smell of her hair, because something about that particular warm crisp scent speaks of a short but bright existence made out of beginnings and beginnings and beginnings until the final end, which is far away. ]
[ Ir feels -- not like freedom and not quite like flying. (He knows better than to think a single person will ever be able to fill that gap, except Pai.) But fuck if it isn't close, if every part of him wants to pull Korra tighter in and have a repeat performance of that ruined evening, again and again, with the fiercest kind of longing. ]
[ Instead, angling his head, he kisses her the way he's never done yet, soft and lingering. Not the way he used to kiss Amber. Just the way he kisses Korra. He tries to put into it all the warmth he'd once longed for for himself. That he can no longer find anywhere, since the sky fell around him and Pai. ]