[ Something in his chest flares, as if he's been pierced with a red-hot shiruken. He nearly asks Really, except he is afraid she might backtrack, make a nick-of-time escape once she remembers herself -- either five minutes after the hormone-soaked indolence fades, or tomorrow, in the bright sobriety of daylight. He's afraid too, of being absolutely crushed after his long-dormant hopes are stirring. Of disturbing the comfortable nullity he should not dare breach -- otherwise all the heartache and misery sweeps through him in a dark wave. ]
[ Hard to succumb to the seduction of trust, after everything that's happened. But, he reminds himself, if he's in a precarious spot, then Korra's is ten times riskier. ]
[ Eventually, his voice dropping before it trips into a boyish stammer, ]
I -- all right.
[ Although he knows he should be cooler, nonchalant, because BK201 never used to tolerate being unnecessarily jerked around -- he feels ready to fly to the Fire Nation with Korra and little Mai at once. With his eyes half-closed and Korra's heavy skull nestled against his cheek, he imagines nights of this, days of this: this beautiful girl in his arms, smooching, undressing, her eyes blue and glowy and opaque as he gazes into them. Or baby Mai's warm wriggly weight in the crook of his elbow, her words like a chiming nonsense tinkle from a music-box. ]
[ How could he possibly refuse? (How can he ignore how much it will hurt afterward?) ]
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Date: 2015-07-26 06:25 am (UTC)[ Hard to succumb to the seduction of trust, after everything that's happened. But, he reminds himself, if he's in a precarious spot, then Korra's is ten times riskier. ]
[ Eventually, his voice dropping before it trips into a boyish stammer, ]
I -- all right.
[ Although he knows he should be cooler, nonchalant, because BK201 never used to tolerate being unnecessarily jerked around -- he feels ready to fly to the Fire Nation with Korra and little Mai at once. With his eyes half-closed and Korra's heavy skull nestled against his cheek, he imagines nights of this, days of this: this beautiful girl in his arms, smooching, undressing, her eyes blue and glowy and opaque as he gazes into them. Or baby Mai's warm wriggly weight in the crook of his elbow, her words like a chiming nonsense tinkle from a music-box. ]
[ How could he possibly refuse? (How can he ignore how much it will hurt afterward?) ]