[ In the end, it doesn't matter how monstrous Korra thinks she is. In terms of atrocity, Hei is miles ahead of her, and there's no closing that gap. That doesn't make the situation any less bleak. Or make what he and Korra are doing any less transient. But he knows that caution and doubt and guilt flashing through Korra's mind is familiar, and that has to count for something. ]
[ (He still remembers feeling lost and broken after Heaven's War, but picking himself up anyway in the aftermath of it.) ]
[ There's a muted gasp and a sputter when the water goes from hot to scalding. Unexpected, but Korra probably doesn't realize that's a temperature Hei prefers. He jerks back, spitting slightly, swiping the water off his eyes. The upward glance he flicks at her is undeniably wry. ] All right. So pressured schedules aren't your thing.
[ The mild amusement fades at her expression, at those frantic apologies. Shit. He gives her a a quick kiss below her navel, right above the hairline. Rises to turn the water off, before gathering her in. The steam is so thick it feels like he’s inhaling and exhaling through a wet blanket. There's a hum of want still in his muscles, like a live wire pooling low in his groin, and it's -- it's so fucking frustrating. But being with Korra is about patience and carving out space where there is none. ]
[ He steps closer, tracing out her spine with his fingertips. It's a language of almost-tenderness Hei uses when he wants something; it's almost never sincere. Except now. Taking her face in both hands, he gently kisses her temples, each eyelid, the tip of her nose. Presses another kiss to her mouth, tasting water and salt on the tip of his tongue. (Strange, that it's a taste he's beginning to associate with her) He doesn't ask if she's okay. Instead: ]
⊕ march 15th, late evening
[ (He still remembers feeling lost and broken after Heaven's War, but picking himself up anyway in the aftermath of it.) ]
[ There's a muted gasp and a sputter when the water goes from hot to scalding. Unexpected, but Korra probably doesn't realize that's a temperature Hei prefers. He jerks back, spitting slightly, swiping the water off his eyes. The upward glance he flicks at her is undeniably wry. ] All right. So pressured schedules aren't your thing.
[ The mild amusement fades at her expression, at those frantic apologies. Shit. He gives her a a quick kiss below her navel, right above the hairline. Rises to turn the water off, before gathering her in. The steam is so thick it feels like he’s inhaling and exhaling through a wet blanket. There's a hum of want still in his muscles, like a live wire pooling low in his groin, and it's -- it's so fucking frustrating. But being with Korra is about patience and carving out space where there is none. ]
[ He steps closer, tracing out her spine with his fingertips. It's a language of almost-tenderness Hei uses when he wants something; it's almost never sincere. Except now. Taking her face in both hands, he gently kisses her temples, each eyelid, the tip of her nose. Presses another kiss to her mouth, tasting water and salt on the tip of his tongue. (Strange, that it's a taste he's beginning to associate with her) He doesn't ask if she's okay. Instead: ]
Let's get you dried off. All right?