[ Held together in Mai's hands. In moments where he's hazy drunk -- sometimes late in the night, when he's a heavy-limbed heap under the bedclothes, one arm dangling off the edge of the futon -- he thinks of himself and Korra that way. Of their separate, outsized abodes, like two doll's houses, where you can lift the roofs to peer inside. He sees Korra, ensconced in bed, one little upturned hand slipping off the pillow and gliding towards the edge of the bed, in his direction. Soon their hands are in perfect alignment, so that, if this really were a doll's world, he could imagine Mai removing not only the roofs, but internal walls and buildings as well, and sliding the two bedrooms into each other, joining the couple's hands like the clasp of a necklace. ]
[ Each time, he thinks what a fucking idiot he is -- before he flips over onto his back, and sinks into restless sleep. ]
[ Quietly, he guides Korra out of the nursery. Their tour is brief -- he shows her the extra room which he's converted into a training area: a cool, austere space, no color, no furniture or scrolls or symbols, only twenty woven mats and walls framed by mirrors, like a dance studio. The bedroom, gray with shadows, is dominated by the narrow neatly-made futon, with a whole wall of windows divided into smallish panes, looking down on the quaint sakura park in the block's interior, a vibrant green-and-pink patch blurred by the dripping rain. ]
[ Back in the livingroom, he zaps their cooling teas, and offers Korra a black square of grass-jelly in a bowl. ]
no subject
[ Each time, he thinks what a fucking idiot he is -- before he flips over onto his back, and sinks into restless sleep. ]
[ Quietly, he guides Korra out of the nursery. Their tour is brief -- he shows her the extra room which he's converted into a training area: a cool, austere space, no color, no furniture or scrolls or symbols, only twenty woven mats and walls framed by mirrors, like a dance studio. The bedroom, gray with shadows, is dominated by the narrow neatly-made futon, with a whole wall of windows divided into smallish panes, looking down on the quaint sakura park in the block's interior, a vibrant green-and-pink patch blurred by the dripping rain. ]
[ Back in the livingroom, he zaps their cooling teas, and offers Korra a black square of grass-jelly in a bowl. ]
[ In a stilted voice, ]
So what's the verdict?
[ Baby-worthy -- or not? ]