[ He doesn't mean to punish her. (If there's anyone who deserves that self-abasement, it's himself.) ]
[ He doesn't bat an eyelid when Mako exits -- although, like Korra, he's sure the other man won't go far. If he tries to tail Hei, though, he'll have his work cut out for him. Hei may not be a Contractor anymore. But he will always be a consummate chameleon, trained to blend into the crowds, to melt elsewhere in an eyeblink. He may not know the layout of Republic City as well as before -- but he is accustomed to flowing with the current, to remaining in a state of constant hyperawareness until what is strange and uncertain ceases to be so. ]
[ Too bad he can't maintain that operational mindset with Korra. ]
[ Left alone with her, Hei's focus lingers on the bright blue hook of her gaze. She still has, he thinks, that pretty charm when she chooses to turn it on: the liquid eyes, the querulous mouth, that softly-radiating glow of vulnerability, that makes him want to gather her in. ]
[ He doesn't. She is some lucky bastard's girl, that is for sure. But not his. ]
[ Quietly, ]
It's good to see you.
[ That, at least, is true. He regards her for a long moment, his face detached as if he's received a briefing on a mission, not a twitch or a shift to indicate his thoughts. But there's something almost rueful in the way he nods, then turns on his heel, exiting the inviting glow of the Beach House. ]
no subject
[ He doesn't bat an eyelid when Mako exits -- although, like Korra, he's sure the other man won't go far. If he tries to tail Hei, though, he'll have his work cut out for him. Hei may not be a Contractor anymore. But he will always be a consummate chameleon, trained to blend into the crowds, to melt elsewhere in an eyeblink. He may not know the layout of Republic City as well as before -- but he is accustomed to flowing with the current, to remaining in a state of constant hyperawareness until what is strange and uncertain ceases to be so. ]
[ Too bad he can't maintain that operational mindset with Korra. ]
[ Left alone with her, Hei's focus lingers on the bright blue hook of her gaze. She still has, he thinks, that pretty charm when she chooses to turn it on: the liquid eyes, the querulous mouth, that softly-radiating glow of vulnerability, that makes him want to gather her in. ]
[ He doesn't. She is some lucky bastard's girl, that is for sure. But not his. ]
[ Quietly, ]
It's good to see you.
[ That, at least, is true. He regards her for a long moment, his face detached as if he's received a briefing on a mission, not a twitch or a shift to indicate his thoughts. But there's something almost rueful in the way he nods, then turns on his heel, exiting the inviting glow of the Beach House. ]