[ Hei blinks once, twice, and the look on his face isn't startled -- just perfectly blank. When he sets down his spoon, it's the only gesture that acknowledges that he's even heard her. ] It's nothing. I -- [ He chews the inside of his mouth, the silence heavier than usual. His knee-jerk reaction is to brush her off. There's a wealth of things he could say but can't. The clarity, the numb distance that frames his existence, fades when Korra is close. Except he needs that, like an inexorable drug, to help him continue, from one day to the next, without his mind collapsing. It's how he's survived so far, and he's made his peace with it, because he doesn't know anything else and even if he tried there's too many ragged edges in his personality to fit permanently with normal people. ]
[ The finiteness to this entire arrangement of theirs is inevitable. He knows that. But it makes him wistful -- and that's always dangerous. ]
It's nothing, [ he repeats eventually, mouth twitching in an almost-smile. ] I just start gathering wool when I'm too relaxed. [ It's not glum or self-pitying, it just is. ]
no subject
[ The finiteness to this entire arrangement of theirs is inevitable. He knows that. But it makes him wistful -- and that's always dangerous. ]
It's nothing, [ he repeats eventually, mouth twitching in an almost-smile. ] I just start gathering wool when I'm too relaxed. [ It's not glum or self-pitying, it just is. ]