[Oh, stretching. That is an awesome idea. Once he gets up, she takes the opportunity to do a full body stretch -- the languorous, delicious, slept-forever kind of stretch -- then she sits up for some more serious stretching. She almost laughs at how many bruises cover her body. It's a good thing the weather hasn't gotten too warm yet, because she has no idea how she'd hide them in her preferred tank tops. (Good thing too she isn't probending either, she thinks as her muscles complain.)
She contemplates getting out of bed and taking a quick shower. She's sticky and sweaty and more than a little gross. But the bed is too comfortable. When her legs are sufficiently stretched out, she falls back against the pillow and let out a contented sigh.
Questions and insecurities will return soon enough, but for right now, she's happy enough to keep them at bay.]
[ Catching sight of Korra arching like a cat on the bed, Hei fights a slight smile, and a bubbling uncharacteristic urge to just laze with her a moment more. But his feet are already propelling him upright and out of the bed. In the bathroom, the bright fluorescent lights hurting his eyes, he locks himself in. He senses that there are reams of awkward things Korra might want to ask him later, but right now he's in no mood to handle that. Already, with each step away from her, the chill and distance is descending. It's a sad feeling but somehow also necessary -- as if that prior weekend, cursed and unfettered, has shaken all the bits of his armor loose, and he needs to retreat to the privacy of his own mind to reassemble them. ]
[ In the mirror he's all eyes, with dark rings around them. It hits then, like a knife to the gut -- he can see all the faces in the white tiles around him, their whispers pressing in, an indistinguishable wave encroached by a bitter nausea within. Hei shuts his eyes, because he doesn't know how to suffer scruples, how to dissect right from wrong in a bath of self-interest and endless hours to think. It's all too new and confusing, and makes his head ache. ]
[ In the shower, he turns the water up deeply cold, turning his face up to the high pressure needles. Gasps, swallows some with thirst, coughing, and lets it beat against his face. Cleaned up, towelled dry, he waits until his face is as blank as his thoughts, before he steps out. Avoiding Korra's eyes, he makes a beeline for the phone, lifting it off its cradle. His voice is businesslike. ]
[He doesn't have to worry about avoiding her eyes. While he had been showering, Korra had burrowed under the blankets. She's been up for somewhere around 21 hours, and by the time he's out of the shower, she's two-thirds asleep.
Which is fortunate for both of them. She stirs when he speaks, but exhaustion keeps her from registering the blankness in his expression and the detachment in his voice.]
[ A sense of relief creeps over Hei when he sees her half-asleep. It circumvents any awkwardness for one. For another ... He's aware of that cool look on his face slipping away, replaced by something mild and fond, even if it's dulled. There are certain things -- maybe too many -- about Korra, that evoke Pai. The ease of motion. The form, seen in the dark, where the different build and skin tone are less obvious. The disorder of her dark hair. The bright eyes, half-lidded and drowsy. Settling on the bed, by her shoulder, he experiences something almost like affection. Her sleepy murmur lets him take liberties. Like smoothing his fingers -- very gently -- through her hair. And leaning forward to touch his cool lips to her warm forehead. ]
Nothing. [ He can order up and eat by himself. Reheating leftovers is always an option later -- when he wakes her up for another go-round. Because he will. In the meantime he cards a slow hand through her hair, murmuring, ] Get some sleep. [ He's too wired to follow her. But he's well-acquainted with the vicarious satisfaction of watching someone sleep in his place. ]
[She hums contentedly as he strokes her hair, her lips twitching a sleepy smile at the press of his lips. She snuggles deeper into the pillows (so very soft compared to her own, which won't do any favors for her neck but right now feels amazing) and drifts deeper into sleep.
She wants to say Wake me up before you leave, knowing his tendency to vanish, but she's unconscious before the words reach her lips.]
[ When her breathing descends into slumber, Hei slumps, by slow degrees, at the foot of the bed, leaning forward on his knees and raking both hands through his damp hair. It's better this way, the dim lights and the twinkling view from the window, Korra's quiet inhales and exhales in the background. Let her sleep her hopeful sleep. He has enough on his mind in the meanwhile. Better for the insomniacs -- or maybe just the maniacs -- to leave those who can still rest to get on with it. ]
[ (He won't wake her up when he leaves, no. But there'll be a ballpoint message scribbled on her arm in the morning -- You kick a lot in your sleep -- and a covered tray of cold food on the dresser.) ]
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She contemplates getting out of bed and taking a quick shower. She's sticky and sweaty and more than a little gross. But the bed is too comfortable. When her legs are sufficiently stretched out, she falls back against the pillow and let out a contented sigh.
Questions and insecurities will return soon enough, but for right now, she's happy enough to keep them at bay.]
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[ In the mirror he's all eyes, with dark rings around them. It hits then, like a knife to the gut -- he can see all the faces in the white tiles around him, their whispers pressing in, an indistinguishable wave encroached by a bitter nausea within. Hei shuts his eyes, because he doesn't know how to suffer scruples, how to dissect right from wrong in a bath of self-interest and endless hours to think. It's all too new and confusing, and makes his head ache. ]
[ In the shower, he turns the water up deeply cold, turning his face up to the high pressure needles. Gasps, swallows some with thirst, coughing, and lets it beat against his face. Cleaned up, towelled dry, he waits until his face is as blank as his thoughts, before he steps out. Avoiding Korra's eyes, he makes a beeline for the phone, lifting it off its cradle. His voice is businesslike. ]
...Hungry?
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Which is fortunate for both of them. She stirs when he speaks, but exhaustion keeps her from registering the blankness in his expression and the detachment in his voice.]
Hm?
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Nothing. [ He can order up and eat by himself. Reheating leftovers is always an option later -- when he wakes her up for another go-round. Because he will. In the meantime he cards a slow hand through her hair, murmuring, ] Get some sleep. [ He's too wired to follow her. But he's well-acquainted with the vicarious satisfaction of watching someone sleep in his place. ]
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She wants to say Wake me up before you leave, knowing his tendency to vanish, but she's unconscious before the words reach her lips.]
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[ (He won't wake her up when he leaves, no. But there'll be a ballpoint message scribbled on her arm in the morning -- You kick a lot in your sleep -- and a covered tray of cold food on the dresser.) ]