[ In all honesty, Hei feels the same. But he can't afford to sulk. He needs to fix this. Whatever she's seen in those dreams has clearly upset her. But once the matter is dealt with, time will iron flat those memories the way a wave smooths over a rock on the shore. He's sure she'll go on -- not unperturbed, but not irreparably damaged, either. He's determined for nothing to alter that, whatever vagaries intercede. ]
[ He glances at her -- and she looks so small and lost, hugging herself as if warding off a chill, her eyes reminding him of water in a a pool, lit from within, shimmering and throwing reflections across the whole surface of her face. A small, grudging part of him will always be a little protective of her, for so many unvoiced reasons. A memory-fragment of Pai insinuates itself into his thoughts, and he forcibly jerks his gaze away. ]
Come on.
[ There are a number of hotels -- clean, anonymous, secure -- that will take Korra in. The air, despite it being spring, is cold, a breeze stirring grit through the streets, rustling litter on the cobblestones. Making a beeline for a building, narrow and gray, festooned with fairy-lights, Hei keeps his shoulders high against the wind that stirs the hem of his long overcoat. Flashbacks unspool, of that time he'd left expensive lingerie in Korra's room and called her down to a swanky motel in the Underground. But the charge of energy between them couldn't be more different now. ]
[ The suite he books is on the fifteenth floor, furnished in that neutral zone of peaches, beiges and dark wood finishes. He allows Korra to step in, but remains hovering at the doorway himself, his energy thrumming with a quiet impatience to leave, to track down a sorcerer or witch, someone who can dispel this particular curse. ]
[ To Korra, an attempt at businesslike that skews toward reassuring, ]
no subject
[ He glances at her -- and she looks so small and lost, hugging herself as if warding off a chill, her eyes reminding him of water in a a pool, lit from within, shimmering and throwing reflections across the whole surface of her face. A small, grudging part of him will always be a little protective of her, for so many unvoiced reasons. A memory-fragment of Pai insinuates itself into his thoughts, and he forcibly jerks his gaze away. ]
Come on.
[ There are a number of hotels -- clean, anonymous, secure -- that will take Korra in. The air, despite it being spring, is cold, a breeze stirring grit through the streets, rustling litter on the cobblestones. Making a beeline for a building, narrow and gray, festooned with fairy-lights, Hei keeps his shoulders high against the wind that stirs the hem of his long overcoat. Flashbacks unspool, of that time he'd left expensive lingerie in Korra's room and called her down to a swanky motel in the Underground. But the charge of energy between them couldn't be more different now. ]
[ The suite he books is on the fifteenth floor, furnished in that neutral zone of peaches, beiges and dark wood finishes. He allows Korra to step in, but remains hovering at the doorway himself, his energy thrumming with a quiet impatience to leave, to track down a sorcerer or witch, someone who can dispel this particular curse. ]
[ To Korra, an attempt at businesslike that skews toward reassuring, ]
Will you be okay on your own?