[ Dismissive, but also dry and a little throaty, his fingers grazing across Korra's mouth. Not that he bothers with pillow talk at all. Or talking in general. Drunk with endomorphins, drowsy with too many insomniac nights and busy days crammed together, his mind feels curiously unmoored from his body; slumped beside Korra, legs tangled, limbs heavy and damp, he feels warmly comfortable. Safe. Which is illogical, of course. Hei closes his eyes, the skylight turning the insides of his eyelids red, and feels it nonetheless. Overtaken with a weird sort of joy, and a weirder vulnerability. Except vulnerability never did Hei any good. Little human boys, even boys who can hold their own in a battlefield of superhumans, aren't worth mentioning unless they're absolutely unbeatable -- faster, sharper, smarter, crueler, every ounce of softness inverted into lethal venom. And then there was the spiral after Pai vanished, and then Tokyo, and then his teammates dropping like flies -- so yeah. Vulnerability is for people who fucking have time for it. Hei doesn't. Didn't before when he was a soldier; doesn't now that he is a weapon. (Deterrent, technically.) ]
[ Except that with Korra it comes startlingly easy. It would be frightening, but for the fact that Hei's made note of it and catalogued it as This would never go anywhere. He doubts Korra would want it to, but Korra is so kind to him, and Hei's good at being selfish. So he'll loll here and take it because he's never wanted kindness -- but he'll take it if that's all he can get. ]
[ He looks right back at Korra then, fingers tracing the lines of her cheeks and nose. Brushes a fingertip along the spiky lower row of her eyelashes, as delicately as he can. So many striations of color in her eyes -- red, purple, white, blue, black. So pretty. ] You look so wrecked, [ Hei breathes, barely moving his lips, his eyes only just open. It's spoken in a tone anyone else would use for You're so beautiful. ]
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[ Dismissive, but also dry and a little throaty, his fingers grazing across Korra's mouth. Not that he bothers with pillow talk at all. Or talking in general. Drunk with endomorphins, drowsy with too many insomniac nights and busy days crammed together, his mind feels curiously unmoored from his body; slumped beside Korra, legs tangled, limbs heavy and damp, he feels warmly comfortable. Safe. Which is illogical, of course. Hei closes his eyes, the skylight turning the insides of his eyelids red, and feels it nonetheless. Overtaken with a weird sort of joy, and a weirder vulnerability. Except vulnerability never did Hei any good. Little human boys, even boys who can hold their own in a battlefield of superhumans, aren't worth mentioning unless they're absolutely unbeatable -- faster, sharper, smarter, crueler, every ounce of softness inverted into lethal venom. And then there was the spiral after Pai vanished, and then Tokyo, and then his teammates dropping like flies -- so yeah. Vulnerability is for people who fucking have time for it. Hei doesn't. Didn't before when he was a soldier; doesn't now that he is a weapon. (Deterrent, technically.) ]
[ Except that with Korra it comes startlingly easy. It would be frightening, but for the fact that Hei's made note of it and catalogued it as This would never go anywhere. He doubts Korra would want it to, but Korra is so kind to him, and Hei's good at being selfish. So he'll loll here and take it because he's never wanted kindness -- but he'll take it if that's all he can get. ]
[ He looks right back at Korra then, fingers tracing the lines of her cheeks and nose. Brushes a fingertip along the spiky lower row of her eyelashes, as delicately as he can. So many striations of color in her eyes -- red, purple, white, blue, black. So pretty. ] You look so wrecked, [ Hei breathes, barely moving his lips, his eyes only just open. It's spoken in a tone anyone else would use for You're so beautiful. ]