[ It's obvious she's not enjoying this. So why won't she call it off? ]
[ Pride, he suspects. Her main casualty -- because she's the Avatar. Or maybe because she's Korra. She is determined to hold out until the discomfort and fear become unbearable; that is the game. A test of endurance as much as a macho showdown. ]
[ If Hei were a better person, he'd stop. Apologize for hurting her. But he doesn't. The intersection of terror, resistance and resignation is a sublime thing. Some people fight and fight, as if their life depends on it -- although it never does, but how are they to know? Others resign themselves to what they believe is their fate from the very beginning -- a kind of suicidal apathy sets in. It's always fascinated him: the pleasure of knowing just how much terror and courage their individual hearts can hold. ]
[ He doesn't loosen his hold. Instead his thumbs rub at her skin, the veins slipping queasily beneath it. His lips press against her forehead, almost sweet. ]
If you couldn't take it, why did you ask for it? [ There's a tension of contrasts in his voice: a cold disdain and a warm husk of curiosity. ] What were you trying to prove?
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2014-11-15 09:33 pm (UTC)[ Pride, he suspects. Her main casualty -- because she's the Avatar. Or maybe because she's Korra. She is determined to hold out until the discomfort and fear become unbearable; that is the game. A test of endurance as much as a macho showdown. ]
[ If Hei were a better person, he'd stop. Apologize for hurting her. But he doesn't. The intersection of terror, resistance and resignation is a sublime thing. Some people fight and fight, as if their life depends on it -- although it never does, but how are they to know? Others resign themselves to what they believe is their fate from the very beginning -- a kind of suicidal apathy sets in. It's always fascinated him: the pleasure of knowing just how much terror and courage their individual hearts can hold. ]
[ He doesn't loosen his hold. Instead his thumbs rub at her skin, the veins slipping queasily beneath it. His lips press against her forehead, almost sweet. ]
If you couldn't take it, why did you ask for it? [ There's a tension of contrasts in his voice: a cold disdain and a warm husk of curiosity. ] What were you trying to prove?