[ The look Hei gives Korra is not easily readable. He's still rocked by all the changes in this world, big and small. But none of them effect him like this one. Korra's got that whole barefoot, rumple-haired, housewifely vibe going on; the sun carving a bright slice across the line of her cheek, the tip of her nose, the spiky edges of her eyelashes, her clothes a teasing drape over smooth curves and muscles, and her hips jolt smoothly side to side with that lazy animal swiftness as she floats around the sunlit space. It still makes Hei's mouth go dry, makes him want to sink his teeth deep into her and not let go. She looks so fucking good even from the back -- Jesus, especially from the back -- and she's -- ]
[ Making stir fry. ]
[ It's almost funny. All the years that he'd encouraged her to learn, and it seems she'd bitten the bullet at last. He'd never know if mastering the recipes and utensils had come easily to her. She works mechanically and without undue concern, like all experienced cooks. He finds this oddly becoming. ]
[ Drawing out a chair, he slips into it warily. Scrubs the dangling out of his face as he surveys the food, picking up the lacquered chopsticks. Taking his first bite, Hei blinks. It's ... good. The fish is white and fluffy, the kelp crisp, everything rashed with those toasty brown patches. His stomach, in full approval, gurgles. ]
Someone's turned into a little domestic goddess.
[ It's a dry tone that slides somewhere between amused and incredulous. ]
no subject
[ Making stir fry. ]
[ It's almost funny. All the years that he'd encouraged her to learn, and it seems she'd bitten the bullet at last. He'd never know if mastering the recipes and utensils had come easily to her. She works mechanically and without undue concern, like all experienced cooks. He finds this oddly becoming. ]
[ Drawing out a chair, he slips into it warily. Scrubs the dangling out of his face as he surveys the food, picking up the lacquered chopsticks. Taking his first bite, Hei blinks. It's ... good. The fish is white and fluffy, the kelp crisp, everything rashed with those toasty brown patches. His stomach, in full approval, gurgles. ]
Someone's turned into a little domestic goddess.
[ It's a dry tone that slides somewhere between amused and incredulous. ]