[ Oh. Worse than a lightweight. A fucking teetotaler. ]
[ Even so, Hei keeps any hint of disdain off his face. Everyone has their own addictions, and it's no dirty secret that they're so prevalent because they're enjoyable. No one gets addicted to doing their taxes or eating their lima beans. You get addicted to things that bring you something -- respite, pleasure, distraction, oblivion. The danger comes when you choose that over the longer term consequences. ]
[ He tries not to think about it. Or to allow his mind to go through a checklist of all the ways this boy -- straight as an arrow and boring to a fault -- is nonetheless more suitable to Korra than Hei himself will ever be. Safer, more benign, at least. Instead he tips a shoulder, a dismissive Suit your own damn self, and finishes placing his order. ]
[ Settling back, he tucks an arm under his head. Reaches out after a moment, and then cards the fingers of the other hand through Korra's hair, almost as if he's degenerated to a point where he is unwilling to pass up any indulgence. Everything is to be savored, without discrimination or judgment of suitability -- because he has no idea how long the mellow atmosphere will last. In this room, in his own head. ]
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Date: 2014-11-02 11:39 pm (UTC)[ Even so, Hei keeps any hint of disdain off his face. Everyone has their own addictions, and it's no dirty secret that they're so prevalent because they're enjoyable. No one gets addicted to doing their taxes or eating their lima beans. You get addicted to things that bring you something -- respite, pleasure, distraction, oblivion. The danger comes when you choose that over the longer term consequences. ]
[ He tries not to think about it. Or to allow his mind to go through a checklist of all the ways this boy -- straight as an arrow and boring to a fault -- is nonetheless more suitable to Korra than Hei himself will ever be. Safer, more benign, at least. Instead he tips a shoulder, a dismissive Suit your own damn self, and finishes placing his order. ]
[ Settling back, he tucks an arm under his head. Reaches out after a moment, and then cards the fingers of the other hand through Korra's hair, almost as if he's degenerated to a point where he is unwilling to pass up any indulgence. Everything is to be savored, without discrimination or judgment of suitability -- because he has no idea how long the mellow atmosphere will last. In this room, in his own head. ]