[ Hei lets her pluck a morsel out, with a dry indifference reminiscent of outings with Pai. When they trudge up into the safe-house, the rooms feel unnaturally quiet, the darkness providing the air with its own private fog, only dimly alleviated in the shafts of red neon light drifting from the skylight, drawing psychedelic rectangles on the walls and floor. Shrugging his coat off, he shuffles towards the low table, unpacking the ubiquitous white cartons and setting the bowls and flatware out. As he washes his hands in the kitchen sink, the clock behind his head sounds like it's ticking too fast. Chopping up time and interrupting his thoughts, making his blood hum restlessly in his skin. ]
[ It's not anxiety or anticipation. It's something else. Something he's felt before -- years ago, with Amber. But different too. ]
[ Glancing at Korra, he remarks, ]
Shower first if you want. [ Or hold it off until later. He has a suspicion that he's only going to get her dirty again, as soon as he's shoveled enough food down his belly. ]
no subject
[ It's not anxiety or anticipation. It's something else. Something he's felt before -- years ago, with Amber. But different too. ]
[ Glancing at Korra, he remarks, ]
Shower first if you want. [ Or hold it off until later. He has a suspicion that he's only going to get her dirty again, as soon as he's shoveled enough food down his belly. ]