[ He's reread the note. Be in bed. That would mean, presumably, being naked. On reflection, though, Hei decides that isn't such a good idea. He can't fathom what mood she was in when she'd scribbled the note -- well, he can, just as he can picture how she'd have looked writing the note, hunched over a table like a child, her sleeve rolled up her arm, the pretty point of her tongue stuck out with the effort. The mental image tumbles through him with a burst of affection -- but also uncertainty. Maybe she'd been amorous when she'd written Be in bed -- but there's no guaruntee she won't come home tired and grumpy and bloated with cramps and cravings. And, well, she is the Avatar, isn't she? Best to measure her mood with a conversational litmus-test if he wants to go on breathing and see this through. ]
[ Anyway, he is too habitually restless to just lie down and look pretty. After a steaming hot bath, he's whipped up a meal of carmelized roast duck, sweet and sour pork, and egg tong sui as a not-too-saccharine dessert. The practiced rhythms of kitchenwork are always soothing -- and rewarding. No matter what disaster is manifesting in his and Korra's lives, they have to eat, and he's learnt long ago that he enjoys feeding her. ]
[ The duck is still fragrantly steaming in its tray, glazed and blackened as if dipped in sweet tar, the side-dishes a colorful assortment, when he hears the beep of the alarm, presaging Korra's return. The tread of her footsteps is anxious; her soft little Hei? Are you home? sends a frisson of concern through him. ]
[ Wiping his hands clean with a towel, he peers around the kitchen: ]
Here. [ His gaze alights on the bag, idle curiosity. ] I hope that's not take-out.
[ He's been doing his best to discourage her from eating out, lately. Germs, uncooked beef, expired ingredients, stale oils etc. ]
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Date: 2015-03-03 03:23 am (UTC)[ Anyway, he is too habitually restless to just lie down and look pretty. After a steaming hot bath, he's whipped up a meal of carmelized roast duck, sweet and sour pork, and egg tong sui as a not-too-saccharine dessert. The practiced rhythms of kitchenwork are always soothing -- and rewarding. No matter what disaster is manifesting in his and Korra's lives, they have to eat, and he's learnt long ago that he enjoys feeding her. ]
[ The duck is still fragrantly steaming in its tray, glazed and blackened as if dipped in sweet tar, the side-dishes a colorful assortment, when he hears the beep of the alarm, presaging Korra's return. The tread of her footsteps is anxious; her soft little Hei? Are you home? sends a frisson of concern through him. ]
[ Wiping his hands clean with a towel, he peers around the kitchen: ]
Here. [ His gaze alights on the bag, idle curiosity. ] I hope that's not take-out.
[ He's been doing his best to discourage her from eating out, lately. Germs, uncooked beef, expired ingredients, stale oils etc. ]