[ Hei hums a low, woozy-sounding agreement. His face, for the moment at least, is open, relaxed, dazed. The light makes him seem almost young. So does the way his eyes skim Korra's features, his curiosity for once not hidden. Something feels different in the air; a slow-burning charge, a tectonic plate drifting in his inner landscape, and it unnerves him to look. He wishes irritably that he could stop himself from viewing that vista and analyzing the changes. But it's not in Hei's nature to look away -- for fear or sanity or self-preservation. That hasn't changed at all. ]
[ Eventually he draws away, smoothing a hand through his damp hair, his unfocused gaze clearing before the windows snap shut again. The air smells of coconut and the tang of their exertions. His wristwatch says he can only afford to stay here a few minutes more; he needs to check on Pai, before making a trip to the Underground. Exhaling, he sits up. Doesn't leave at once; instead he twists around to kiss Korra's mouth again, almost in gratitude, before he rises, scooping up his clothes and padding over to the bathroom. (Why ask permission when he knows where it is?) ]
[ After a quick wash-up, he drifts back in, dressed and looking, as always, like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. Leaning against Korra's dresser, he says, without quite meeting her eyes, ] I have to get going. [ The halting pitch implies quite clearly that he wishes he didn't have to. ]
no subject
[ Eventually he draws away, smoothing a hand through his damp hair, his unfocused gaze clearing before the windows snap shut again. The air smells of coconut and the tang of their exertions. His wristwatch says he can only afford to stay here a few minutes more; he needs to check on Pai, before making a trip to the Underground. Exhaling, he sits up. Doesn't leave at once; instead he twists around to kiss Korra's mouth again, almost in gratitude, before he rises, scooping up his clothes and padding over to the bathroom. (Why ask permission when he knows where it is?) ]
[ After a quick wash-up, he drifts back in, dressed and looking, as always, like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. Leaning against Korra's dresser, he says, without quite meeting her eyes, ] I have to get going. [ The halting pitch implies quite clearly that he wishes he didn't have to. ]