[ It's as if there's a direct circuit between her body and his. When she pads out of the room, the erratic voltage under his skin subsides. He's no longer so hard it hurts; his breathing is steadier despite the want and heat pulling low at his stomach. In the kitchen, he can hear Korra moving around. He imagines her sipping slowly from a glass, rearranging both her expression and state of mind. Imagines that deep inside her, a terrified angry little girl is sobbing. ]
[ The absolute lack of anything between them tonight is strange. He's so used to getting things done fast; even during zipless fucks with other girls, on nights when he'd stay with them for hours, he was always all about quantity: fast, efficient, straightforward. At the end of the day, sex is never about intimacy for him. It's about the brute physicality of it, the promise of the finish line. But that's not what's happening here. ]
[ He can't stay indifferent to her grief. Can't find, in himself, that lusty violence that only blossoms in the indifferent turns of the flesh. This isn't going to be another serving of the usual, with a bit of sugar on top. He wants to take this at a leisurely pace -- and Hei doesn't do that for everyone. ]
[ He should put a stop to this. Right now. He'll regret the vulnerability later. Worse, so will she. ]
[ When Korra returns, he's half-propped up in the middle of the bed. The lamp is on, throwing a dark umbra across the room. He meets her gaze straight-on, his face impassive, like a duelist trying to reach an impasse. Starts to say You can go to sleep if you want. But then she climbs onto him, and suddenly he's all out of reasoning. ]
[ This close, he can smell her -- the scent of soap, her skin, an aftertang of tears. Nothing about her is what he's used to -- enthusiasm and solar-flares, but it's still her, still stirring. Without a word, Hei arches up, a nip of teeth against her bottom lip as his body presses flush against hers. Welcome back. ]
⊕ march 15th, late evening
[ The absolute lack of anything between them tonight is strange. He's so used to getting things done fast; even during zipless fucks with other girls, on nights when he'd stay with them for hours, he was always all about quantity: fast, efficient, straightforward. At the end of the day, sex is never about intimacy for him. It's about the brute physicality of it, the promise of the finish line. But that's not what's happening here. ]
[ He can't stay indifferent to her grief. Can't find, in himself, that lusty violence that only blossoms in the indifferent turns of the flesh. This isn't going to be another serving of the usual, with a bit of sugar on top. He wants to take this at a leisurely pace -- and Hei doesn't do that for everyone. ]
[ He should put a stop to this. Right now. He'll regret the vulnerability later. Worse, so will she. ]
[ When Korra returns, he's half-propped up in the middle of the bed. The lamp is on, throwing a dark umbra across the room. He meets her gaze straight-on, his face impassive, like a duelist trying to reach an impasse. Starts to say You can go to sleep if you want. But then she climbs onto him, and suddenly he's all out of reasoning. ]
[ This close, he can smell her -- the scent of soap, her skin, an aftertang of tears. Nothing about her is what he's used to -- enthusiasm and solar-flares, but it's still her, still stirring. Without a word, Hei arches up, a nip of teeth against her bottom lip as his body presses flush against hers. Welcome back. ]