[ Hei gives Korra a sidelong glance. He is walking beside her, not too close, not too far, hands in pockets, his steps as smooth-moving as always. But there is the tiniest awkwardness in the set of his shoulders, the way his gaze shutters. An eyeblink of a stutter. Old habits die never, but he doesn't fire off a cold remark like always. Out of weariness, maybe. Or maybe because of the odd tilting sensation that is happening inside him, as if two feelings are teetering into balance on a scale; the old shell of aloofness and anger on one side, and on the other ... what? Maybe it is nothing; maybe he is just tired of constantly bruising her. ]
[ Fuck. He can't keep hurting her. But he also can't fit her anywhere in his life that is satisfactory or safe The two are mutually exclusive. ]
[ His expression is tightlipped, bordering on exhausted. ]
no subject
[ Fuck. He can't keep hurting her. But he also can't fit her anywhere in his life that is satisfactory or safe The two are mutually exclusive. ]
[ His expression is tightlipped, bordering on exhausted. ]
I'll leave once you've sobered up.