[ He's not hoping for such a clear invitation. (It's not Hei's way to hinge his hopes on anything, since that elicits its own set of expectations and disappointments. It snatches all control away from him.) Even so, the Please Come makes his eyes widen a fraction. As if her words weren't plain English. As if the Please was something too far beyond his capacity to bother making inferences about. Trades and favors and equivalent exchanges are the way Hei operates in his life. But for some reason -- now, more than ever -- he feels like he owes Yin something. (And a certain emotion tugs at his chest like maybe that's not so bad.) ]
[ There are things he could say; there are things he wants to say.I'm sorry would be one, but it's not for the likes of Hei. Not when the damage is already done. Empty words fix nothing; they simply exacerbate their own uselessness, the moment they leave your lips to hang limp and heavy in the air. Instead, there's a sense of cool relief, a shift of weight in his sternum, not gone but considerably lightened. ]
voice;
[ There are things he could say; there are things he wants to say.I'm sorry would be one, but it's not for the likes of Hei. Not when the damage is already done. Empty words fix nothing; they simply exacerbate their own uselessness, the moment they leave your lips to hang limp and heavy in the air. Instead, there's a sense of cool relief, a shift of weight in his sternum, not gone but considerably lightened. ]
[ His reply is terse. ] Give me fifteen minutes.