[ Even before Korra's arm hits him, dragging him to past the surface of sleep, his dreams are about nothing but thirst and lead-limbs and staying still so Pai isn't disturbed. At the touch, he doesn't jerk awake. But his eyes snap open to dark hair spread out on the pillow next to him, tickling his throat, the brush of a knee against his own. For a moment, half-drowsing, he's almost peaceful. But it only takes a split-second to recall where he is. ]
[ And resolve he's slept enough. ]
[ The sun is up, making a white penumbra at the bottom of his drawn shades. Hei slips out of bed, out of the room, and out of the apartment without sound -- showered and fully dressed. He has to head to work in a bit, but it seems callous (not to mention shortsighted) to leave Korra alone at his flat. On the street, he detours to run a few errands, makes a roundabout trip to his flat, before heading out again. ]
[ When Korra wakes, it'll be to a message Sleep in; Gone to work, scrawled in sharpie on her arm. (He'd leave a sticky note, but he's averse to a paper trail, no matter how benign.) In the kitchen, she'll find a cup of still-hot tea set out in one of those take-out cups, a K scrawled on top. A box of bakery breakfast on the counter -- spinach and feta croissant, an omlette wrap or some such salty thing. And last: a shopper bag with a pair of folded girl's clothes. Not tacky, he promises. ]
⊕ march 15th, late evening
[ And resolve he's slept enough. ]
[ The sun is up, making a white penumbra at the bottom of his drawn shades. Hei slips out of bed, out of the room, and out of the apartment without sound -- showered and fully dressed. He has to head to work in a bit, but it seems callous (not to mention shortsighted) to leave Korra alone at his flat. On the street, he detours to run a few errands, makes a roundabout trip to his flat, before heading out again. ]
[ When Korra wakes, it'll be to a message Sleep in; Gone to work, scrawled in sharpie on her arm. (He'd leave a sticky note, but he's averse to a paper trail, no matter how benign.) In the kitchen, she'll find a cup of still-hot tea set out in one of those take-out cups, a K scrawled on top. A box of bakery breakfast on the counter -- spinach and feta croissant, an omlette wrap or some such salty thing. And last: a shopper bag with a pair of folded girl's clothes. Not tacky, he promises. ]
[ Don't blow anything up while he's gone. ]