[ Despite his knee-jerk distaste, Hei doesn't nudge her off. That would just call attention to both of them. Instead he slips an arm around her ribs, dark head burrowed close to hers, giving the impression that they're just a giddy pair of lovers, both a little worse for drink, being carried off home. The cab's plastic seat feels slippery and sticky against his hands, and the interior stinks of cheap incense. Resisting the urge to slide all the way to the far side, away from Korra's fevery warmth, Hei keeps himself still, staring out the window, aware all the while of where the edge of her bare knee just touches the side of his leg. ]
[ The driver catches almost every green light; they race uptown on the nearly deserted avenues, turning left at last to stop in front of a neighborhood of cozily uniform houses, two stories tall. In the streetlight's yellow glow, Hei pays the driver his fare, then gently gathers Korra out of the cab, the picture of an indulgent hubby with his tipsy wife. ]
[ But once the cab has zoomed off, he drops his hands like they're a pair of dead spiders. ]
no subject
[ The driver catches almost every green light; they race uptown on the nearly deserted avenues, turning left at last to stop in front of a neighborhood of cozily uniform houses, two stories tall. In the streetlight's yellow glow, Hei pays the driver his fare, then gently gathers Korra out of the cab, the picture of an indulgent hubby with his tipsy wife. ]
[ But once the cab has zoomed off, he drops his hands like they're a pair of dead spiders. ]
Let's get indoors.