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[mortemscintilla]

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[mortemscintilla]

[ For Hei, forgiveness (or a semblance of it) is always more easily obtained than permission. Half the time, he doesn't bother with either. They're not what's relevant in the trajectory of his life. Safeguarding his assets -- and Yin is foremost among them, even if she overlaps into several other categories (partner -- anchor -- morality pet) -- is his main priority. For that, it's crucial to act, not waste time arguing. Hei isn't emotionless, but he's also not built the way most people are. If something -- moral or immoral --needs to be done, he'll carry out the task unflinchingly. Failure is not an option; it's a death sentence. ]

[ He watches Yin gather herself. Then she seems to grow still, steely. I won't if it's you. He opens his mouth to argue -- but the tactical side of him says there's no need. The City seldom curses him to stay in his true form. The last time, Yin hadn't even recognized him. If he attacks her again, there's an 80% possibility it'll be in the shape of something grotesque. If Yin defends herself against him in such a situation ... well. She doesn't need to know the truth. It's not a lie so much as a needful omission. ]

[ Calmly, ]

All right.

[ If you think that'll make a difference. She's too innocent to know the lengths rationalization can take you. Especially when you're faced with a difficult choice. ]

action;

[moonlitrequiem]

[Yin softens to that, a release of breath, a slope to her shoulders. Her never changing features relax. The argument is over. She does consider Hei might not look like himself, and if she can't recognize him - it terrifies her. Now it's about her irrational wants. But there's no point in debating that part of it. Cursed Hei won't be able to, or care to, alert her of the reality.]

[Only then does she accept the offered disguised weapons.]

action;

[mortemscintilla]

[ Yin reaches for the weapons, and something loosens in Hei. It happens in degrees: his eyes half shuttering, the hard line of his mouth smoothing out. Her acceptance doesn't sweeten the atmosphere so much as quieten it. It's perceptible to him through the changes in the air (like, mysteriously, he's tuned to Yin's frequency, listening hard to the sonic emissions she radiates.) He knows he should leave now. Everything vital's been discussed. Done. Dusted. ]

[ But still, he stays, and the thought that blooms in his mind is sudden and sharp all at once -- he wants something out of this. (Wants Yin's safety, wants to see that soft look on her face blossom into something more peaceful; wants to see the evolution of it, to map out its trajectory and see where it leads.) It's a novel thing, to want; to know that that's in the cards, to know that his chest can still beat to the time of something fragile and slow. ]

[ He doesn't say any of that, though. Why would he? Instead he reaches out, blunt fingers curling around the slope of Yin's shoulder -- squeezing gently (Thank you? I'm sorry? I'll see you later?)-- before falling away. ]

[ Without a word, he turns and exits her flat. ]