'Cause I'm a hazard to myself
Feb. 13th, 2015 11:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mortemscintilla posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
fuse_boxWHO: Korra and Hei
WHAT: A series of mildly unfortunate events.
[ Another family visit, Hei thinks acidly, faking a gentle smile and general pleasantries as Tonraq and Senna feign to depart. Their fourth drop-in this month. Ostensibly because they were 'in the neighborhood' -- and not, in fact, because they're here to pressure 'Li' to stop cohabiting with their darling daughter, and man up and put a ring on her finger. Or, in this case, a necklace around her pretty neck. ]
[ Too bad it means a noose around his. ]
[ While Korra prattles with her parents at the doorway, he clears the remnants of dinner (roasted duck stuffed with mushrooms and chilis and pickled carrots) from the table. Calm, cheerful -- but inwardly steeped in the foulness of his mood. Asami has dropped by too: he can hear her giggling at something Tonraq says, hers and Korra's murmurs braiding together in a lilting weave. The whole house is filled with girlish sweetness and family-friendly light, and it is making him unbearably disgusted. ]
[ Stewing, he rinses the dishes with sudsy fingers, watching the briskness of his own hands. They seem so unnatural cradling crockery. They always do. But lately everything else feels like a big pile of unnatural too: the factory-work too tedious, the Beach House's walls too close, the number of guests that drop by every evening too smothering, Asami buzzing around as if she lives here, Tonraq always blustering at Hei's elbow, brimful with manly advice and carefully-worded questions on Hei's future plans, while Senna pokes at every nook and cranny of the kitchen like some creepily Korra-shaped domestic!cop. ]
[ And here is the question: why doesn't he put his foot down? Tell Korra to stop letting Asami over so often? Demand that the 'in-laws' limit their pestering? It's his house too, and who would dare to argue it? It would be reclaiming his life along with it, because it is -- it is like a symbol of something. Of everything. No third wheels, no nosy parents. Why hasn't he? ]
[ Because Tonraq and Senna are nice and unfussy and down-to-earth. Because you don't mind having them around -- in limited doses. Because the same goes for Asami. She's a damn sight better than having Mako or Bolin or those obnoxious Air-Babies over. Also because they're Korra's family, and after all the ways she's accepted you, it's high time you return the favor. ]
[ A twinge of guilt flares. Hei deals with it the only way he knows how. He turns the radio on to the Jazz station, and cranks it up just high enough to cut into conversation. He can feel the others eyeballing him, and looks up winningly, wrist-deep in dishwater. ]
Have a safe trip back.
[ More farewells, more yadda yadda, and then Tonraq, Senna, and finally Asami are out the door, Korra closing it behind them. Hei snaps off the radio at once. Wiping his wet hands on a dishtowel, he mutters, to preempt Korra's prospective scolding, ]
Nice people. But after four hours, I prefer them off the premises.
WHAT: A series of mildly unfortunate events.
[ Another family visit, Hei thinks acidly, faking a gentle smile and general pleasantries as Tonraq and Senna feign to depart. Their fourth drop-in this month. Ostensibly because they were 'in the neighborhood' -- and not, in fact, because they're here to pressure 'Li' to stop cohabiting with their darling daughter, and man up and put a ring on her finger. Or, in this case, a necklace around her pretty neck. ]
[ Too bad it means a noose around his. ]
[ While Korra prattles with her parents at the doorway, he clears the remnants of dinner (roasted duck stuffed with mushrooms and chilis and pickled carrots) from the table. Calm, cheerful -- but inwardly steeped in the foulness of his mood. Asami has dropped by too: he can hear her giggling at something Tonraq says, hers and Korra's murmurs braiding together in a lilting weave. The whole house is filled with girlish sweetness and family-friendly light, and it is making him unbearably disgusted. ]
[ Stewing, he rinses the dishes with sudsy fingers, watching the briskness of his own hands. They seem so unnatural cradling crockery. They always do. But lately everything else feels like a big pile of unnatural too: the factory-work too tedious, the Beach House's walls too close, the number of guests that drop by every evening too smothering, Asami buzzing around as if she lives here, Tonraq always blustering at Hei's elbow, brimful with manly advice and carefully-worded questions on Hei's future plans, while Senna pokes at every nook and cranny of the kitchen like some creepily Korra-shaped domestic!cop. ]
[ And here is the question: why doesn't he put his foot down? Tell Korra to stop letting Asami over so often? Demand that the 'in-laws' limit their pestering? It's his house too, and who would dare to argue it? It would be reclaiming his life along with it, because it is -- it is like a symbol of something. Of everything. No third wheels, no nosy parents. Why hasn't he? ]
[ Because Tonraq and Senna are nice and unfussy and down-to-earth. Because you don't mind having them around -- in limited doses. Because the same goes for Asami. She's a damn sight better than having Mako or Bolin or those obnoxious Air-Babies over. Also because they're Korra's family, and after all the ways she's accepted you, it's high time you return the favor. ]
[ A twinge of guilt flares. Hei deals with it the only way he knows how. He turns the radio on to the Jazz station, and cranks it up just high enough to cut into conversation. He can feel the others eyeballing him, and looks up winningly, wrist-deep in dishwater. ]
Have a safe trip back.
[ More farewells, more yadda yadda, and then Tonraq, Senna, and finally Asami are out the door, Korra closing it behind them. Hei snaps off the radio at once. Wiping his wet hands on a dishtowel, he mutters, to preempt Korra's prospective scolding, ]
Nice people. But after four hours, I prefer them off the premises.
