[ To his credit, Hei doesn't snort or fire off some sly innuendo. But there's a quirk to his lips as he settles crosslegged at the table. His elbow lightly brushes hers, body angled towards her. It's an unspoken Like you need to ask. The thrumming urge to reach for Korra is still hot beneath his skin, not even slightly diminished from the earlier encounter. But his energy seems contained, unruffled, as he focuses on stripping the meat off the skewers, bite by bite, before finishing the stir-fried pork. The black oily-looking plum sauce is delicious, and he finds himself competing with Korra, wielding chopsticks with quiet alacrity, to spear the last bits of food. ]
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[ Eat fast, kiddo. Or you won't get anything. ]