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[mortemscintilla]

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[mortemscintilla]

Hmm.

[ It's an absent sound, more than denial or assent. Slowly, he licks his lips, tasting the salt and Korra-ness that clings there. He feels like he's swallowed tiny illicit pastilles of chemical happiness -- knowing, with time, the effects will fade. Reality and logic will encroach, as always. There is no instruction manual about how to go about life with a divided mind, a divided heart. How to be a proper companion to an Avatar, but to fulfill your own responsibilities back home. All those years in the frontline have only taught him how to lie, kill, betray, grieve, outrun, while negotiating the whims of fate like an imperious mistress who was off her rocker two-thirds of the time. ]

[ Swallowing, Hei shuts his eyes. His bones ache. Suddenly he wants to be alone, to think. ]

[ Gently, he extricates himself from Korra's moist delicious tangle of limbs. Slips off and knots up the condom, dumping it in the trash. When he twists to kiss her, it's long, slow, melting -- both an apology and a leave-taking. Drawing back, he nuzzles his nose lightly against hers. ]

Get some sleep, all right? I have -- [ Too much on my mind. ] Something to take care of.

[alittlebent]

[And just like that, something in him changes. Korra's heart sinks into her stomach. It's not like the times when his humanity shuts off, at least; there's nothing overtly threatening in his manner. He's still gentle, even attentive. But his mind has gone somewhere else, and it never goes anywhere good.]

Okay. [She runs her hand up and down his arm and presses one last kiss to his lips; whether to reassure him or herself, she doesn't know.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ It's like watching a shroud of dark clouds cover the sun. Her expression shades, the glow in her eyes diffusing. He wants to say something to reassure her, but what? Everything sounds so insipid. Artificial. Instead he resumes his clothes amidst a tinge of both sadness and relief. Another thing he isn't used to is offering simple kindness to Korra. A Contractor's version of kindness, sure; the I'll Kill Your Enemies type. But there is also the ordinary kindness, that two people who care about each other are supposed to show; give and take, share and share alike. It brings up a shame that crackles beneath the surface of his skin. He doesn't know how to do that -- not unless it's for a purpose. ]

[ Dryly, he swallows. Sinks into the kiss she offers, and he's not sure if he's trying to seek absolution or to distract her from her disappointment. ]

[ Keeping his gaze averted from hers, he slips into his shoes and coat. Forces himself not to glance back at Korra -- all rumpled and warm and beautiful, never anything less than beautiful -- as he steals out of the safehouse, and into the chilled sunlit streets. ]

[ He has a great deal of thinking to do. ]