[ Hei's head pounds from the inside -- how can it pound like that, when his heart seems so still? He wishes he could drink acid, to erase the bitter flavor in his mouth -- a replica of the metallic adrenaline from the war. He barely registers it when Pai bursts into the room. Some tiny part of him curls and shrivels that she should have to see him like this again -- a salted slug, oozing in its own stew. He's not that friable boy he was, five years ago. He's not so easy to crush into powder. Yet, as Pai wraps her arms around him, he struggles against the cloud in his mind. It's like being drunk, it is worse than that. ]
[ Bowing his head against her glossy hair, he takes a breath. Not because he needs to. But because her scent grounds him -- an anchor of familiarity. ]
[ While he'd come apart, he could feel the air around Korra crowding with horror. But he knows watching him come together again isn't soothing. It's a sudden, unnerving process. Hei breathes in, slackens his muscles and wraps a loose arm around Pai, even as his chin lifts, his head like a snake's answering to a pipe. He blinks the wildness in his eyes back down to whatever locked cell inside him it has sprung from. The clearness which resurfaces in his gaze has an awful weariness to it. His hands settle on Pai's shoulders, still trembling but no longer wracked with the shaking spasms which had briefly overtaken him. ]
[ To Pai, regarding Korra, he says, ] It's not her fault. [ His voice sounds sore, like he has a bad cold or has hurt his throat yelling, but his words are clipped and calm. Leaning in, he tips a kiss to Pai's forehead: I'm sorry, I'm okay, thank you, I need time -- all in the same press of lips. Then with an unexpectedly fluid movement, he detaches and glides away from her, plucking his hoodie from where he had left it and shrugging it on. Then he steps into his shoes, foregoing socks. He moves in simple, sharp bursts of movement. Rehearsing normality. ]
[ Without looking at Korra, he says, ] ... You should go home. [ He doesn't add I'll talk to you later -- because right now he doesn't have the stomach for it. He can still feel the shock -- the fear -- slithering around his shoulders and hissing in his ear before it burrows straight down into his chest, twisting and sliding and squeezing the breath out of him. It's not Korra's fault; but she's the reason he's feeling it. ]
[ Shaking it off, Hei exits the room -- then the apartment. ]
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[ Bowing his head against her glossy hair, he takes a breath. Not because he needs to. But because her scent grounds him -- an anchor of familiarity. ]
[ While he'd come apart, he could feel the air around Korra crowding with horror. But he knows watching him come together again isn't soothing. It's a sudden, unnerving process. Hei breathes in, slackens his muscles and wraps a loose arm around Pai, even as his chin lifts, his head like a snake's answering to a pipe. He blinks the wildness in his eyes back down to whatever locked cell inside him it has sprung from. The clearness which resurfaces in his gaze has an awful weariness to it. His hands settle on Pai's shoulders, still trembling but no longer wracked with the shaking spasms which had briefly overtaken him. ]
[ To Pai, regarding Korra, he says, ] It's not her fault. [ His voice sounds sore, like he has a bad cold or has hurt his throat yelling, but his words are clipped and calm. Leaning in, he tips a kiss to Pai's forehead: I'm sorry, I'm okay, thank you, I need time -- all in the same press of lips. Then with an unexpectedly fluid movement, he detaches and glides away from her, plucking his hoodie from where he had left it and shrugging it on. Then he steps into his shoes, foregoing socks. He moves in simple, sharp bursts of movement. Rehearsing normality. ]
[ Without looking at Korra, he says, ] ... You should go home. [ He doesn't add I'll talk to you later -- because right now he doesn't have the stomach for it. He can still feel the shock -- the fear -- slithering around his shoulders and hissing in his ear before it burrows straight down into his chest, twisting and sliding and squeezing the breath out of him. It's not Korra's fault; but she's the reason he's feeling it. ]
[ Shaking it off, Hei exits the room -- then the apartment. ]