[ She says Okay, and there is a quiet wing-beat flicker in Hei's chest. Gratitude and relief. And he once thought she was the only one who was needy. Exhaling, he shifts, settles himself closer against her, kisses the warm patch of skin he finds near his -- her temple. His eyelids are heavy, but he can't turn his gaze from the grainy-gray window, shimmering with rainfall. The seafoamy smell in the room is familiar, almost pleasantly comforting, and suddenly the futon seems so cozy and accommodating. He has nothing like this contentment in his life anymore, can't he just, for a few minutes, enjoy it, before ... before... ]
[ His eyelids flutter and close. ]
[ Taking Mai to the Fire Nation. ]
[ Tension plucks the strings of his nerves. He isn't sure how to take this. A gentle distancing? A reminder that they both lead separate lives -- and should continue to? Or maybe ... an invitation? ]
[ Keeping the strain out of his voice, he says, ]
You could leave Mai here. [ He nearly says Our daughter, but stops that knee-jerk needling in time. He lost the privilege to toss around words like us and ours after what he did. Fingertips stroking lightly down her back, he hastens to add, ] If you want, anyway.
no subject
[ His eyelids flutter and close. ]
[ Taking Mai to the Fire Nation. ]
[ Tension plucks the strings of his nerves. He isn't sure how to take this. A gentle distancing? A reminder that they both lead separate lives -- and should continue to? Or maybe ... an invitation? ]
[ Keeping the strain out of his voice, he says, ]
You could leave Mai here. [ He nearly says Our daughter, but stops that knee-jerk needling in time. He lost the privilege to toss around words like us and ours after what he did. Fingertips stroking lightly down her back, he hastens to add, ] If you want, anyway.