[ She can't get it out, and Hei's own head feels like it is full of sawdust, his skin hot and his eyes dry and painful. His emotions are a formless, terrifying chaos. So he keeps kissing Korra, slow and sipping, tracing her lips with his tongue, swapping salt-spit until their tastes mingle. God, he's seen not hide nor hair of her in ages; each inch of her feels like a benediction. Just the smell of her, layers of soap and shampoo, sweat and her own loamy mist-in-forests self, clean and warm and herbal, makes him want to burrow into her and never leave. ]
[ When the words bloom in his mind, they're small yet impossibly bright and painful, like a bone cracked back into place. ]
I love you.
[ The admission comes readily, his voice thready but determinedly frank. His eyes, glinting between shuttered spikes of lashes, are dark and soft yet somehow incongruously diffident. Then he's wriggling a hand between their bodies, so his thumb finds her clitoris, and after a few slippery swipes the rest of his fingers curl under, wedging and pressing in. A hot pressure there where he knows she likes it best. ]
no subject
[ When the words bloom in his mind, they're small yet impossibly bright and painful, like a bone cracked back into place. ]
I love you.
[ The admission comes readily, his voice thready but determinedly frank. His eyes, glinting between shuttered spikes of lashes, are dark and soft yet somehow incongruously diffident. Then he's wriggling a hand between their bodies, so his thumb finds her clitoris, and after a few slippery swipes the rest of his fingers curl under, wedging and pressing in. A hot pressure there where he knows she likes it best. ]