[ The self-loathing radiates off Korra like a miasma. ]
[ Hei remains poised at the kitchen. But his mild look has faded into something more querulous. Part of him -- the cold, self-serving part -- says: Just let her go. He wants his space today. He has obligations elsewhere -- to Pai -- and a powerful twitchy need to avoid everything Korra is making him feel. He can't do that unless she's gone. After Pai vanished, it was like his spine was pulled out of him. Without her, he was only ever able to crawl. Looking at Korra, he's reminded of how whacked-out he was, searching for a semblance of backbone. How close he'd pulled her in -- in all the wrong ways -- when he had no right to. ]
[ Here is an unexpected flipside: taking an inventory of the nostalgia that already seems like it belonged to someone else. Hei feels like one of those people who, in the warm glow of summer, forget what it's like to walk down a frigid winter street, wrapped-up and shivering. The tangibility of his old loneliness eludes him. All because Pai has dropped back into his life, as smoothly as time reversing itself. ]
[ So? Is Korra a doll you put on the shelf because you're too busy to play with her. ]
[ Hei grits his teeth. Back home, on his last meeting with Maxley, the man had sneered: Look at you. Still pushed around by women. Well -- fuck that. It's true. The women in Hei's life have left the most livid scars. But also the best-loved. He's nurtured and framed each one, counting it among the collection of his treasured sores. A life-lesson, a Thank-You note, stamped on his psyche. He doesn't count Korra among them -- not yet. But every encounter pushes her closer there, like blood racing to a gash. ]
You do realize [ flat and terse ] Xing is my little sister.
no subject
[ Hei remains poised at the kitchen. But his mild look has faded into something more querulous. Part of him -- the cold, self-serving part -- says: Just let her go. He wants his space today. He has obligations elsewhere -- to Pai -- and a powerful twitchy need to avoid everything Korra is making him feel. He can't do that unless she's gone. After Pai vanished, it was like his spine was pulled out of him. Without her, he was only ever able to crawl. Looking at Korra, he's reminded of how whacked-out he was, searching for a semblance of backbone. How close he'd pulled her in -- in all the wrong ways -- when he had no right to. ]
[ Here is an unexpected flipside: taking an inventory of the nostalgia that already seems like it belonged to someone else. Hei feels like one of those people who, in the warm glow of summer, forget what it's like to walk down a frigid winter street, wrapped-up and shivering. The tangibility of his old loneliness eludes him. All because Pai has dropped back into his life, as smoothly as time reversing itself. ]
[ So? Is Korra a doll you put on the shelf because you're too busy to play with her. ]
[ Hei grits his teeth. Back home, on his last meeting with Maxley, the man had sneered: Look at you. Still pushed around by women. Well -- fuck that. It's true. The women in Hei's life have left the most livid scars. But also the best-loved. He's nurtured and framed each one, counting it among the collection of his treasured sores. A life-lesson, a Thank-You note, stamped on his psyche. He doesn't count Korra among them -- not yet. But every encounter pushes her closer there, like blood racing to a gash. ]
You do realize [ flat and terse ] Xing is my little sister.