[ A leaf in a river, carried away on the current of circumstances. Hei can accept that passivity. But that doesn't mean he has to pretend he likes it. There's an I don't care what happens to me or anything else anymoreness about her that's too strong an echo of others he's known and lost -- to despair, to dissipation, to death. Fortunately he's not one to succumb to pointless fussing. He's charged himself with keeping an eye on Korra. And he'll carry it through, regardless of her state of mind, or where it leads her. (Which is the reason he'd volunteered to be Pai's bodyguard in the first place.) ]
[ Streetlights glitter off the fine mist of snow. It's quiet enough that he can hear Korra breathe beside him as they wend their way down the sidewalk. A few blocks from his flat, he catches the enticing aroma of espresso. The open-air espresso bar is one of the last places still lit-up on the main street this late on a Friday night. He stops to buy two take-out cups at the window; the Irish coffee lets off a curl of aromatic steam as he pops the lid and slips it into Korra's free hand. ]
Drink up.
[ There's snow stuck in his hair, white against black and the blue of his scarf. He watches a snowflake land on Korra's cheek, there one second then melting away, like a tear sloping down the shape of her face. He wants to touch her. Wants to say something kind. It's all right, maybe. Except nothing is. He knows that perfectly. That's why she's with you at all. ]
⊕ march 15th, late evening
[ Streetlights glitter off the fine mist of snow. It's quiet enough that he can hear Korra breathe beside him as they wend their way down the sidewalk. A few blocks from his flat, he catches the enticing aroma of espresso. The open-air espresso bar is one of the last places still lit-up on the main street this late on a Friday night. He stops to buy two take-out cups at the window; the Irish coffee lets off a curl of aromatic steam as he pops the lid and slips it into Korra's free hand. ]
Drink up.
[ There's snow stuck in his hair, white against black and the blue of his scarf. He watches a snowflake land on Korra's cheek, there one second then melting away, like a tear sloping down the shape of her face. He wants to touch her. Wants to say something kind. It's all right, maybe. Except nothing is. He knows that perfectly. That's why she's with you at all. ]