[ Obediently, he dips his gaze, showing her to a small room he's designated as a makeshift nursery. The walls, unlike the rest of the minimalist white-chrome apartment, are painted a cheerful pale-cream blue. It is empty of toys or any colorful accouterments, but is neatly fitted out with a changing table, rocking chair and a cozy toddler bed shaped into the proportions of a rustic wood-paneled house. The little room is flooded with shimmery patterns of rainfall and cloudy evening sun. There are windows on three walls, and a slanting stained-glass ceiling with a large skylight let into it. Everything -- except the house-bed -- came built-in with the flat. Hei rarely ever goes into it: each time, the bitterness sloshes over him, threatening to swamp him altogether. ]
[ Quietly, without looking at Korra, ]
It's the sunniest room here. Tends to heat up, though. So I had a special glass installed.
[ He touches the controls on the wall just outside the door, and watches as the glass in all the windows goes first grey, then dark. ]
no subject
[ Quietly, without looking at Korra, ]
It's the sunniest room here. Tends to heat up, though. So I had a special glass installed.
[ He touches the controls on the wall just outside the door, and watches as the glass in all the windows goes first grey, then dark. ]