[ Hei ignores Naga's growls as they rumble through the air, like an idling engine. His eyes slip shut, and he breathes in that familiar Korra-smell, mingled with his own anxious sweat and the staleness of insomnia, clinging to his hair and skin. She doesn't have to hide her face; he knows she's crying. Can practically feel her sub-rosa sobbing, like a ghostly rime swirling in the air. It makes him squeeze her tighter. Because it's so wonderful to be in her arms, he can scarcely believe it. The idea of any contact, making his skin go hot, making his throat close like this. ]
[ When Naga nudges Korra, he gets the message. Steers her away, to the backdoor of the Beach House. He doesn't go inside. Just settles at the front step, nestling Korra against him. He stays like that for a while, just holding her. Dips his head, and kisses her brow, then her salt-damp cheek. Then her brow again. She smells so good, like the bright, tangled aroma of greenery blooming wild in the heat. A voice in his head cautions, Don't, but it's in Mandarin instead of Portuguese or English, which confuses him. As if, for a moment, the layers of facade have stripped away to reveal the outline of his basic self. It feels as freeing as it is disorienting. He kisses her webbed eyelids, then presses his mouth full and soft to hers. ]
[ Not a demand for anything more. Just to reacquaint himself with her heat and flavor, and perhaps to soothe that high-pitched clamoring under his own skin. ]
no subject
[ When Naga nudges Korra, he gets the message. Steers her away, to the backdoor of the Beach House. He doesn't go inside. Just settles at the front step, nestling Korra against him. He stays like that for a while, just holding her. Dips his head, and kisses her brow, then her salt-damp cheek. Then her brow again. She smells so good, like the bright, tangled aroma of greenery blooming wild in the heat. A voice in his head cautions, Don't, but it's in Mandarin instead of Portuguese or English, which confuses him. As if, for a moment, the layers of facade have stripped away to reveal the outline of his basic self. It feels as freeing as it is disorienting. He kisses her webbed eyelids, then presses his mouth full and soft to hers. ]
[ Not a demand for anything more. Just to reacquaint himself with her heat and flavor, and perhaps to soothe that high-pitched clamoring under his own skin. ]