mortemscintilla | IC Contact

[ Rising, he averts his gaze, embarrassed at his own fussing, but not quite in time to miss Korra's almost equally pleased look. His intention was to let her shuffle off to the bathroom alone. But when she rises, wobbly as a newborn colt, he touches the small of her back. Just briefly -- steadying -- but coming from Hei it's as possessive as passing an arm around her. He pads with her into the bathroom, the tiles cool beneath his bare feet. Ignores the shower -- and, let's be honest, all the proper bath etiquette -- in favor of the deep rickety cypress-wood tub at the corner. It's shaped incongruously like a soup bowl, and he fills it hot almost to the point of searing. ]

[ Handing Korra in, he returns with a tray of tea a few minutes later. Sets it on the raised wooden ledge before settling adjacent to it. Drumming his fingers idly against the leg of his jeans, he teases, ]

One little stomach bug, and you're getting star treatment.

[Okay no seriously why does he always make the water so hot? Was he a dragon in another life? Is that his deep dark secret, his dragon-ness? As he prepares the tea, she adds some cold water to bring the temperature down to a human level.

Geez.]

I didn't ask you to baby me. [She makes a face at his teasing.]

[ For God's sake, Korra. You're the Avatar. That's one-quarter a firebender. Where is thy sting? ]

[ The pads of his fingers skim along the base of her neck; he looks at her upside-down, tendrils of steam wafting between them, the pitch of his smile partways between indulgent and offended. ]

This isn't babying. [ Almost playfully, he flicks water at her face. ] This is making sure you don't smell like an old fermenting vat.

[She comes from the South Pole. Cold is her natural habitat. She swats at the water and sends a little flying back at him.]

And the tea?

[ All the more reason to soak in blissful, therapeutic, muscle-wringing warmth. Hot baths are probably a rarity in her frozen circle of Hell. ]

[ He makes a face as the water droplets splatter across his face. Daubs them off with his sleeve, then dips his head, twisting to kiss her on the mouth -- a brief clumsy peck to show she doesn't really smell like a fermenting vat. Edging back, he strokes the damp, soft tufts of hair at the nape of her neck. ]

That's poison.

[ The Naturally is implied. ]

[HOT, NOT BOILING LOBSTER. She is not food.

His response makes her snort.]

Trying to finish the job?

[ Speak for yourself. She looks pretty appetizing from his angle. ]

[ He cuts his eyes away from her frank gaze, a sudden unease bubbling up and out of him. He should be inured to it, that whirling gust of disorientation, whenever he thinks about his career, about how they started out. He'd liked her, despite the dangerous knowledge she carried of his real identity, even as his resolve to kill her bucked up like a cat's arched back. No idea of what was to come from her. How messily entwined they'd be. Sometimes life defies all intentions to be rational; it misleads and teases until you're driven to do desperate things where really all you crave is the clear and the transparent. ]

[ Instead of answering, he reaches out to tear open a sachet of shampoo. Rubs it between his palms before he starts lathering it into her hair, feeling the delicate skin of her scalp under his soapy fingers. ]

[ Quietly, almost inaudibly: ]

It was never a job.

Edited 2014-02-22 03:50 (UTC)

[His sudden shift in mood confuses her. It'd just been a joke, a reference to how sick she'd gotten last night. And now he's all serious and quiet. It'd make her nervous, except now he's massaging her scalp and she may be worried but fuck that feels good. She hadn't even realized she'd had a headache until his fingers started working the tension out. Her eyes flutter shut and it takes her a moment to realize he said anything.]

What?

[ She says What? and Hei places a soapy palm flat between her shoulderblades, gently encouraging her to bend forward. ]

It's nothing.

[ Runnels of soap flow between his fingers, white bubbles crisscrossing on Korra's dark skin. It's strange, how often he's seen her from this angle. Yet she always seems so different in this aspect. Presented with her back, it's almost as if she is brand new to him. The way the feathery hair grows on the nape of her neck, fading to fine down and smooth skin, and the neck itself, surprisingly slender and vulnerable. He runs the heel of his thumb down into the dip between the shoulderblades. Traces the spine with the tips of his fingers. From his vantagepoint, he watches the islands of her breasts and knees surfacing in the milky water, the mainland of her shoulders rising up in smooth, golden mountains. ]

[ The reaction is stirs in him is predictable. One-track. But he ignores it, whorling the pads of his fingers up against her scalp until the shampoo is a mass of froth. ]

[Is anything ever really nothing? She opts against caring, because this feels too nice. The hot water. The massage. Even the faint lingering queasiness is almost pleasant because it gives the illusion(?) of no agenda. This isn't part of a buildup to anything. He's just taking care of her.]

[ There's little in Hei's life that isn't a build-up to something. Every gesture carries a hidden motive; every act of kindness is a delicate sheath for cruelty. The absolute lack of anything here ... It gives him difficulties. Yet a thrill of sadness, desire, newness races through him, amps him up, wherever he touches her. He keeps his soapy hands curled in her hair, against the sharp urge to slide them down too soon under the waterline. Wonders if she can tell how it's an excuse, this chance to touch her skin, to caress her in the guise of shampooing, to pour water from the ladle slowly on her like a libation. ]

[ Once her hair is rinsed, plastered wetly to the shape of her skull, he starts with the sea sponge and the bar of soap. The water steams, makes beads of sweat break from his hairline, but he blinks it away, dipping the sponge, running the froth meticulously across her body, creating tiny waves which lap at the tub's edge. ]

[ When she's clean, he sets everything aside, bubbles borne on the waterline in a flotilla of soap scum. ]

I hope you're not asleep.

Edited 2014-02-22 04:39 (UTC)

[Sadly, it's not a silly question. This kind of touch would normally drive her crazy with lust, but right now it's just soothing, and perilously close to putting her to sleep. (A sleep filled with sexy dreams, at least?)]

Hmwha? No, I'm awake. [Totally awake. And moving, except in the way she's not at all. She's too comfortable to move. Moving is vastly overrated.]

[ Hei's lips twitch at the corners, but otherwise he doesn't call her out on that blatant lie. Half-drowsing in the water, all wet hair and half-lidded eyes, she reminds him of those fairytales of mermaids. Except the water has gone cool around her, and looks like a pond stagnant with bubbly gray algae. Guiding her to her feet, he gives her a quick blast of hot water from the shower nozzle to flush off the loose suds (Sorry, Korra). Wrapping a big towel around her shoulders, he half-lifts her out of the tub, and helps her dry everywhere, dabbing at the clefts, trying to keep his fingers methodical and his mind out of the gutter. ]

[ When she's been patted off, her hair a moist fluffy tumble, he winds it up in a sheath of tight dark waves at the base of her neck. Leans in to kiss her there, the touch of clean damp skin making his own feel a little greasy. ]

You can go back to sleep, if you want. [ A beat. ] After you eat something.

HEY! [The abrupt hot water wakes her up with a start, and the sudden coolness of the air after sends a shiver through her. She lets him dry her not because she's too tired now, but for the sheer hedonistic pleasure of it. When he kisses her neck, she leans back and twists her head to kiss under his chin.]

Again? But I ate something last night... [Guess whose sick-addled mind assumes he means a blowjob?]

[ Hitching the towel more securely around her, Hei lets off a laugh -- small, undeniably sparse -- but genuine. He circles his arms around her, her back to his chest, the warm weight of her damp-haired skull lolling against his shoulder. The fit is different from Amber, not as cosy. Yet there's an enveloping, possessiveness here that seems amplified. (For a moment -- just a moment -- he thinks of fine floating strands of silver hair and melancholy lilac eyes. A pair of cool lips on his. In the next breath, he shakes it off, consigning the sense-memory to a tightly trammeled box in his mind. Something to examine alone, like a handful of pretty raw-cut diamonds in the sunlight, all glints and glitters.) ]

[ Guiding Korra out of the steamy bathroom, redolent with ceder and her particular scent, he says, ]

I have something of the non-meat variety in mind.

[She frowns.]

But meat is tasty. [And this time, she is talking about food-meat. Mmmm, seal jerky. Steak. Meat buns.]

[ Hei quirks an eyebrow faintly. ]

Depends on the meat.

[ Of course, he has a feeling they're discussing two extremely different types. Guiding her toward the sunlit kitchen space, he lets her perch on the stool at the counter. Brings out a plate with one of those bran muffins from the paper bag, and a sandwich slathered in thin slices of turkey and tomatoes. ]

[ Perching across from her, elbows on the counter, he devours the rest of the muffins in the bag, in addition to two toasted bagels, one fried egg sandwich, and one of the tall glasses of strawberry smoothie. He keeps shaking his head all the while, as if he can't believe the depth of his own hunger. ]

[Korra pokes at the muffin, not feeling up to more than little nibbles.]

How do you manage to eat that much?

[Just watching you is making her queasy.]

[ Hei pauses mid-slurp on his smoothie. Notices that Korra isn't really eating much, isn't really engaging. But she needs to get light solids into her belly to end the wooziness. Almost encouragingly, he nudges the plate closer to her. His own is already empty. ]

[ He doesn't answer right away. Just slurps the glass dry in one gulp through the straw, before setting it aside. His expression isn't thoughtful, just blank; the sunlight strikes an elongated rectangle of brightness on the table between them. ]

There was ... never enough to eat, when I was younger. I don't mean an occasional missed meal. I mean food was doled out in rations. You had to fight over it like dogs. I was eleven years old, but I realized how dangerous that was. Not just to your body, but your mind. [ He pauses, like he's self-conscious of what he's saying and how inappropriate it is because words don't mean anything to him. They're just a tool, but -- ] I learnt to eat whatever I got my hands on. Fast as I could. I guess the habit has stuck.

And it doesn't make you feel sick? [Korra can understand eating quickly because you're afraid the food will go away, but the sheer amount that he can shovel down confuses her. Stomaches only have a finite amount of space. How does he cram it all in?]

Not if I burn in off.

[ Really, it's not like he's one to sit idle unless he's stuffing his face. If anything he's gained a few pounds since coming to the City. Going from a fugitive life to this Livin La Vida Domestica is pretty much a sixty to zero. Gathering up the empties, he carries them over to the trash. Glances at her over his shoulder, and adds, ]

Besides. The skinnier you are, the more room you have for extra.

That doesn't make any sense. That's not how bodies work.

[ They do if you're an anime protagonist, ok. Or if you have a freakishly high metabolism. Or suffer from tapeworm. ]

[ Hei just ticks on shoulder in a shrug, rinsing his hands at the sink before he steps closer to Korra, sifting a damp hand through the moist tangled nest of her hair. ]

You want to go back to sleep?

[ She can borrow one of his T-shirts if she's tired of lounging around in a clammy towel. ]

Nnnn. [She shakes her head.] I'm awake. Where are my clothes?

I burned them.

[ A beat, before something in the set of his eyes shifts, turns itself into another smile. There's a certain care in his hands as he combs the fingers through her hair, smoothing out the tangles. A few beads of water cling to her cheekbone, and he smoothes them away, his palm warm if not dry against the side of her face. ]

[ More seriously, he amends, ]

They're in the laundry. I have extra clothes if you want something to wear in the meantime.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject