under the stars

[anatural]

WHO: Korra & Hei
WHAT: Their first night in the Spirit World and their first chance for an actual reunion. (nsfw)

[They trek for hours without saying anything, over terrain that varies with neither rhyme nor reason. Sometimes in a desert, other times in a forest, other times across a plain that seems to stretch for miles until suddenly a mountain appears. Hei doesn't ask why they're going the direction they are, for which Korra is grateful because she doesn't know the answer. She doesn't know anything. They're walking not to get anywhere in particular, but to give Korra a chance to figure out what to do, because she can't think while standing still.

Where would Raava have gone? Is there some way she can communicate with the light spirit? Is there anyone in the Spirit World who doesn't completely despise her?

Evening starts to fall, offering no answers, only a reminder that her body is human and, like it or not, needs rest. Luckily(?) they're in a forest. Plenty of material to make camp with.]

We should stop here for the night. [She has to cough a little mid-sentence; her voice rough from disuse.]

Comments

[anatural]

[He's a great liar — he could very easily be lying to her. Even so, she believes him... and the words bring her no comfort. He managed to keep it in his pants for 10 months and she couldn't. What did it say about her?]

You could have.

[mortemscintilla]

It never occurred to -- [ He exhales, glances away briefly as if to say, Fine. Point taken. It's true, he could have. In the City, he would have. It's not something he'd bother vocalizing being sorry for, even if he did. He's always walked a fine line between affection and aloofness with Korra. Keeping his options open is an ingrained instinct for him. But circumstances are different here. He wants to say, When I chose to come here, it was because I chose you, above anything else. Because it's not about me anymore. It's about us. Because I want you. I think with time I could trust you. ]

[ But words ... words lie parallel to manipulation and subterfuge, and Hei is drained and heavy-limbed enough that he understands that clarity of purpose is not the same as clarity of speech. He doesn't want words. He just wants this. ]

[ Reaching out, he folds his fingers through hers. Strokes her knuckles with his thumb, the soft touch a counterpoint to his flat voice. ]

I'm asking because a fling means different things to both of us.

[ Quietly brutal, maybe. But it's the truth. She cares about the people she sleeps with. Hei seldom has. (Eerie to imagine, that if things went differently, Korra would have been one of his zipless one-time fucks.) ]

[anatural]

[Her gut churns, queasy with anxiety and regret, but his hand gently brushes away her anger, and while she chases after it, she can't catch up.]

It was just a mistake. A big, stupid, awful mistake. But it doesn't change anything between us. [She hopes not, anyway. Maybe it changes everything for him. He'd been prone to stupid jealousies when Mako was living with them at the Beach House... It's not inconceivable, and it terrifies her. She knows, intellectually, that he has no right to judge her and that she hasn't broken any promises to him. But it's hard to defend a choice that she already regrets while tired and naked in a strange place. She knows that she could do this without him, but she doesn't want to do it alone.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ In the moment before she speaks, the silence hangs heavy in the air, but Hei feels like he's plunging in free-fall. It's no exaggeration. Perhaps Korra doesn't realize yet, the enormous risk he's taken in following her to her world. A place with no contacts, no hidden arsenals, no frames of reference, no safehouses or exit strategies to protect himself. It's as good as leaving himself exposed to the elements. Amidst the isolation, Korra is a bright lodestar. The idea of her turning away makes a cynical loneliness rush up to meet him, sharp-mawed and black-fanged than anything he's faced yet. All the softness in his nature will be dashed to bloody pieces if she doesn't stop his hurtling momentum. ]

[ Then she says, It doesn't change anything between us. A simple reassurance. Yet his face opens up, interrogative, resistant, dubious, then ... ]

I see.

[ The one word is mild, deceptively indifferent, but hides a giddy relief. His free hand ghosts her hair, then crosses her face, fingers curling outward like the legs of a pale spider as he brushes the back of his hand tenderly down her cheek. A breath, then: ]

That's all I needed to know.

[ Not a lie. But not quite true, either. He'd prefer details on who she hooked up with. But it can wait. She's tired, rattled, vulnerable, and he realizes with a dull lurch that he's sick of wringing dry any afterglow she soaks up after the fucking is over. (In her position, he'd have sworn off sex entirely.) ]

[anatural]

[The idea of Hei being scared of anything never occurs to Korra. He's like a cat; he always lands on his feet. She wouldn't even think to imagine what risks he's taking. The only fear she can see is her own.

She relaxes a little when he says That’s all I needed to know. The rest of the details aren't any of his business — they're between her and Bolin only, and if he pushes, he'll push back. But for now... For now, she lets herself lie back down, tugging him with her until she can curl up close against him.]

I love you.

[She says it, even though she's pretty sure he'll flinch away just like before. She has to say it, because it's still true.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei allows her to tug him close, an arm curled around her. Lying with their legs loosely braided, faces close enough to conspire, he cups Korra's head, strokes her hair. Tilts his neck so that their foreheads touch in a warm tingling circle. She smells ripe and saline, a pretty blue creature looking at him, lucidly but as a gently-glowing alien. ]

[ With a half-smile, he starts to speak. But hearing her words, his shoulders tighten, collarbones sharpening at the movement. Impossible not to notice the defensiveness; a disdain for sentiment is hard to fight when you spend so much time operating on it. But this time there is no clattering alarm before he settles into a blank-eyed calm. Instead her words seem to slide into the wall that is his life with a quality that is exactly as it should be, the stone fitting the chinked heart of the wall as a sense of completion. ]

[ He exhales, unshackled from his doubts of earlier. Leans over and kisses Korra's mouth, draws back and smooths the fine hairs along one brow. Strange doing this, but so natural. ]

I know.

[ It's soft as the kiss, his gaze half-lidded, absorbed. He still can't echo the words back to her, not without a cruel sense of hollowness, farce. Still doesn't feel ready to really love, to be loved. He needs time to prepare, to set up defenses and rationalizations so that it won't sweep him away. But at the same time it's good, so good, to be here with her, her bare skin radiant against his like the warmth of the sun, melting everything that is hard and cold and brittle inside him. ]

[ Then the fire crackles, shadows guttering across the walls, and life clicks back into gear. He nestles her close, nose in her hair, and murmurs, ]

Get some sleep. Lots to do tomorrow.

[anatural]

Hnn. [Well, it's better than last time she said it at least. No recoil, and he's not leaving again. It's really the best outcome that could be expected. (A small part of her still wished he'd say the words back, and a smaller part wondered if her mistake with Bolin is the reason he doesn't. Irrational, yes, but since when does a fear have to be rational?)

She forces the turmoil aside and makes herself draw comfort from his touch. It's tempting to try & get another round out of him, recapture the glow that his sudden interrogation had destroyed, but he's right. If they're only going to have a week to find Raava, they need to focus all of their energies on that.

She nuzzles closer to him and closes her eyes, hoping that sleep comes soon.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ He wishes he could tell her that his reticence has nothing to do with her ill-fated fling. As far as he's concerned, that's irrelevant. But he can focus on nothing but the warm clasp of their bridged bodies. Smoothing Korra's hair as she drowses, he enjoys its soft tickle, the electrifying way it rubs across his palm. All of her seems to have gotten inside him the same way; her fierce little spirit dances behind the bars of his ribs, sparking him, possessing him. In reply, it's as if his entire body is a secret he can only tell her here, in those slipping moments between wakefulness and sleep, where there is nothing close to sane or rational. No need for careful tactics, no need to pull punches. He can hone her edge and she can bleed against his. ]

[ But not to death. He hopes, in time, she'll learn how not to bleed to death because of him. ]