[ Frigid? Please. It's bracingly cold, if anything. Letting go of Korra's shoulders, Hei grabs the only towel on the rail, and begins to dry first himself off, then her. Her hair first, taking his time with it, and then her body, raising her arms to dry armpits, turning her to get at her back. At her question, he falters -- if only for a moment. It's kneejerk, the resentment that flares whenever she asks him that. As if he's become some hybrid between a bleeding heart and a ticking grenade; something that needs to be handled carefully. Has the City completely wrecked him? Has he become so transparent, so superficial, so obvious and pathetic that anyone can read him like this? ]
[ He shakes it off. Reminds himself that Korra can't help but ask. Especially in light of everything that's happened. Towelling her hair into a thick moist nest, he wraps the towel around her. His expression is unreadable, voice echoing around the glass walls, muted over the tiles. It's hard to tell whether Hei sounds offhand or empty or if it's just the bathroom's acoustics. ]
Everything's fine. [ The trick is keeping it that way. Keeping a lid on that jerry-rigged death trap he calls a brain -- before the doors slam open and chaos and shrapnel goes zinging everywhere. There's a moment's pause, a slow breath, before he leans in and tips a kiss to Korra's nose. ] Come on. We both could use some sleep.
[ Or at least a cat-nap -- before he heads Topside to check on Pai. ]
[Considering all the shit that's gone down between them post-coitus, yeah, she can't help asking. And she's not sure she quite believes him. But, again, no pushing. (She'd made that promise to him awhile ago, hadn't she?)]
Mmm. [It's half agreement, half shy pleasure as he kisses her nose. Sleep does sound like a pretty amazing idea. She heads towards the futon, trying not to wince with every step. Owwwwwww.]
[ Hei watches curiously as she pads over to the futon; cataloguing the soreness in every step. Reaching out, he settles a cool palm on the back of her neck, giving it a gentle squeeze. It's a multi-coded gesture: You okay? and Sorry, both layered within. Slipping into the cool sheets, he feels the world being gently powdered into tiny jagged particles, most of which get stuck behind his eyes. He's sleepier than he realized. Gathering Korra close, he lets her scooch in beside him, her one leg caught between his two, her cheek on his chest. It feels strange -- too intimate, too unnaturally sweet. The familiar claustrophobia is there, creeping at the fringes of his consciousness. But he forces it aside. Wonders, in an idle sort of way, if the selfish, feral part of him will ever grow accustomed to languorous cuddles, gentle kisses, drowsy whispers in the dark. ]
[ Probably not. But, for Korra, he can pretend. An appeasement, a concession, and a silent physical Thank You. Eyes slipping half-shut, he exhales, his breath tickling through her hair. ]
Didn't mean to get so ... [ Rough? Worked up? He isn't sure. Not sure, either, if he really means it. But it seems important to at least say something. ]
[She'll probably end up rolling over in the middle of the night so they end up resting back to back. But she appreciates the waking cuddles, and being able to hear his heartbeat. (It's a little like falling asleep on Naga in that respect.)]
I liked it. [She may have trouble walking, but the fun was worth the pain. She nuzzles her head sleepily against his chest and tightens her arms around him.]
[ Hei wants to tell her, That's no reason to encourage me. Instead he exhales a huff of air, tinged with rueful amusement. ] You're a masochist. [ It's muttered under his breath, almost too low for her to hear. He tries to ignore the mental riposte: So what's that make you? Instead he combs his fingers through her hair, up and down, a languid motion. The weight of her is somehow light yet confining; an unwelcome second skin needing to be sloughed off. But he doesn't. Counting backwards from fifty, listening to Korra's quiet breaths, he banishes the suffocation. It isn't so easy for him as he makes it look, to keep it all up -- the warmth, the dollops of kindness. ]
[ What if it can never be enough for Korra? Worse -- what if it leaves her exactly the way he is. Warped and bitterly aloof. ]
[ That isn't something he can ask her. He only knows he's willing to try, as much as he can. For the most idiotically simple reason: she makes him happy. ]
[ And so he strokes her smooth back, lulling, dreamlike, listening to the changes in the air until she's drifted off to sleep. ]
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[ He shakes it off. Reminds himself that Korra can't help but ask. Especially in light of everything that's happened. Towelling her hair into a thick moist nest, he wraps the towel around her. His expression is unreadable, voice echoing around the glass walls, muted over the tiles. It's hard to tell whether Hei sounds offhand or empty or if it's just the bathroom's acoustics. ]
Everything's fine. [ The trick is keeping it that way. Keeping a lid on that jerry-rigged death trap he calls a brain -- before the doors slam open and chaos and shrapnel goes zinging everywhere. There's a moment's pause, a slow breath, before he leans in and tips a kiss to Korra's nose. ] Come on. We both could use some sleep.
[ Or at least a cat-nap -- before he heads Topside to check on Pai. ]
no subject
Mmm. [It's half agreement, half shy pleasure as he kisses her nose. Sleep does sound like a pretty amazing idea. She heads towards the futon, trying not to wince with every step. Owwwwwww.]
no subject
[ Probably not. But, for Korra, he can pretend. An appeasement, a concession, and a silent physical Thank You. Eyes slipping half-shut, he exhales, his breath tickling through her hair. ]
Didn't mean to get so ... [ Rough? Worked up? He isn't sure. Not sure, either, if he really means it. But it seems important to at least say something. ]
no subject
I liked it. [She may have trouble walking, but the fun was worth the pain. She nuzzles her head sleepily against his chest and tightens her arms around him.]
no subject
[ What if it can never be enough for Korra? Worse -- what if it leaves her exactly the way he is. Warped and bitterly aloof. ]
[ That isn't something he can ask her. He only knows he's willing to try, as much as he can. For the most idiotically simple reason: she makes him happy. ]
[ And so he strokes her smooth back, lulling, dreamlike, listening to the changes in the air until she's drifted off to sleep. ]