that's not how you do it

[anatural]

WHO: Korra & Hei
WHAT: Hei’s made himself scarce and Korra is sick of it.

[It has not been a good month for Korra. The people of Republic City haven't taken well to their new spirit neighbors, and most of the spirits seem to agree. By and large they just won't talk to her. The president has been calling Tenzin almost every day with new complaints and, for the past two weeks, these ridiculous vines have been overrunning sections of the city and nothing she does can get rid of them. It's been one Avatar failure after another.

Her boyfriend killing her uncle has basically been the highlight of the whole thing. But of course, after more or less telling her he loves her, he vanished. The little twerp who lives in his building always took great delight in telling her that Hei wasn't around, so she knew nothing had happened to him. He's just doing that avoidant bullshit he likes to do, and Korra is completely done with it. You don't leave for ten months, come back for maybe two and a half weeks of regular contact, and then disappear for another month. No.

So today, when the brat once again tells her that Hei's out, she smiles and says she'll wait for him in his room. Never mind that she doesn't have a key — she just kicks down the door and uses her Avatar powers to deflect his ridiculously paranoid security system. And then she throws herself on his bed to wait and stew.]

Comments

[mortemscintilla]

[ Korra's efforts are admirable. But there's little chance of deflecting such large-scale damage. ]

[ By the time it's over, the air is ashy, jangling with sounds. A crush of firemen, police, ambulance attendants and reporters have already gathered.  The streets are full of milling people. Some are frantic, in tears, but most are dazedly calm and silent, all eyes trained on the destruction, where fingers of green vines move slowly away from the building, visible and invisible as the plumes of smoke shift. ]

[ Hei shoulders his way through the crowd, toward the popping flashbulbs. Korra is at the epicenter, her hair loose from its moorings and her eyes like two bruises. He can hear the volley of sharp questions, and his brow spasms in annoyance. Ordinarily, he'd be quick to fade into the chaos. Disappear from any crime scene, as he's been trained to. But he refuses to leave Korra at the mercy of those scavengers. ]

[ Ash and plaster crumbles from the ruined building. The crowd surges back and forth, herded by the police. It takes Hei less than a minute to knock an officer out, and divest him of his uniform and helmet. Then it's simply a matter of altering his body-language to an air of coldly efficient command. People give him wide berth as he shoves his way through, heading toward Korra. If Pai was here she'd warn him he is taking some long chances, lately. Putting himself in the middle of a disaster-zone, right in front of the media, taking risks so close he can feel them tickling at his neck. Letting his guard down with a girl he should've kept as an asset, walking the soft line by falling in love. Pai wouldn't have liked any of it. ]

[ But then Hei had seldom heeded her warnings when she was with him. If the odds stand long against you, you have to take long chances, and Hei has always had a knack for picking the right ones. ]

[ He elbows past the journalists and cameramen, warding them off with the sweeping assertion cops are known for. Pitching his voice to carry, he says, ]

The Avatar is not free to divulge information at this time.

[ Before the reporters can protest, he steers Korra away by the shoulder -- a polite, professional gesture that is coded as: Come with me. ]

[anatural]

[So good is Hei's disguise that Korra herself doesn't recognize him until he touches her shoulder — by which point he's already steering her away before she can reveal the lie. She's smart enough not to say anything until they are far away (and doesn't breathe until they're out of sight of the real cops.)]

Thanks.

[Uh, wow, when had her legs started shaking? Are the vines moving again or nope, that's just her muscles deciding they've had enough; she sits abruptly on the ground to avoid falling. It's been a long day in a month of long days. A part of her wants to cry; most of her just wants to go to sleep. None of her wants to move anymore.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ They drift through the crowd, and into a claustrophobic alley that smells of slowly percolating cat-shit and soiled linen. But it's mercifully empty. That's all that matters. The clamor of the disaster-scrum is already fading. Their exit was tailed by flashing cameras, but there are no reporters here. Next morning, though, he'll find a photograph of him and Korra as they leave the scene. Captured in close-up, in black-and-white, which amplifies the stark slashes of dirt on Korra's shirt and the dark of Hei's uniform. Korra's eyes shine like headlamps in the wide pits of her sockets; Hei's face is shaded by the visor of his helmet, only the hard line of his jaw and mouth visible. The framing echoes something you'd see on the courthouse steps: a lawyer shielding his client from the hungering shutterbugs. As if he is the protector and she the protected. ]

[ An absolute lie, of course. Korra's the reason no one in the building died. Hei was more than ready to flee and save his own skin. Which is why you should never trust photos to tell the entire story. ]

[ In his arms, Korra has begun to shake in a jittery way, but with a restraint that means she is striving to hold herself together, to minimize the display. If Hei didn't know better, he'd think she is descending into post-tramatic shakes or outright shock, but her exhaustion is palpable, a raw chemical signature that cannot be mistaken for anything else. ]

Hey. [ His hand catches her elbow. Carefully, he steers her to an old wooden crate in the corner. After a sweep of their surroundings, he kneels before her, taking both her cold little hands in his. ] You okay?

[anatural]

I'm so tired. [There's a slight tremor in her voice, like even her vocal chords are just barely mustering the energy to function.] I've been fighting those things for over a month and I can't stop them. I can't control them. Nobody knows where they're coming from or why. I don't know what to do.

[Their fight earlier certainly didn't help her energy levels, nor is her frustrated arousal doing her any favors. She's got all the physical exhaustion of sex without any of the warm happy afterglow. But those things are far, far from her thoughts. Republic City is being destroyed piece by piece every day; the pathetic state of her love life hardly matters compared to that.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ I'm so tired, she says. And something -- deja vu -- skitters like a small fish through the bowl in Hei's memory. How many times has he felt that way? Tired beyond his bones, with a weight that irons all his emotions flat. He doesn't need to imagine their places reversed. He knows himself, and knows he has always taken these juddering shocks to his life grimly, silently, and been hell to live with afterward, a bastard, morose and sullen. In many ways broken. ]

[ But if he'd absorbed this disaster too, it would have been worth it. It would not have been Korra who'd have to handle the fallout. ]

[ Leaning close, he circles both arms tight around her. His cheek rubs along the side of her head, tenderly as a big cat marking its territory, and he squeezes her shoulders and then strokes her neck, her hair, goes so far as to cup her cheek. He doesn't say Everything will be fine because it's not his way to sugarcoat unless he has something to gain from it. ]

[ Instead he states, what to his mind, is the irrefutable truth, ]

You'll figure something out. It's just a question of when. [ A beat, then, gentler, ] I wasn't kidding when I said you were gifted, you know.

[anatural]

[It gets even harder not to cry, because this is exactly what she's needed all month, what she's wanted from him but couldn't find the right words to say. She clings to him, soaking up the comfort of soft touches and that level of confidence she can't imagine possessing.]

I'm sorry I couldn't figure it out before your home got destroyed.

[All those people with their homes gone, nowhere to live...where would they go? What would happen to them? Air Temple Island can't afford to take them all in, but at the rate the vines are spreading, nowhere in Republic City will make an adequate shelter.]

Did that kid get out all right?

[mortemscintilla]

[ That wasn't home, Hei wants to tell her – because he's never trusted that sort of sentimentality and permanence. Everywhere he stays is just a waystation, a temporary port in a storm, until he finds another place better suited to his needs. But there's no way to explain all that. So he settles for squeezing her hard, letting touch take the place of words. His head is so full of Korra's breathing that he's filtered out almost everything else; his ears are cupped to an otherwise muted world. It gives the scene a soft soundlessness, both dreamlike and subaqueous. ]

[ At her question, he nods, an oddly reassuring weight and dig of his chin on her scalp. ]

No one was hurt.

[ Badly, anyway. It's not his way to ponder the human detritus left behind in a catastrophe. Your own life is what matters. You do what you have to, and take what you must. Shit on conscience and consequence. (Except he can remember too, what it's like to have the props of your life snatched from under you. To leave a place carrying nothing but what's in your hands.) ]

[ He tries not to think about it. Now isn't the time. ]

[ Quietly, ]

Want to come with me to a safehouse? Or should I take you to Air Temple Island?

[anatural]

[She wants to say Safehouse so badly. It sounds perfect: quiet, restful, isolated. But — She shakes her head.]

I need to get back to Air Temple Island. Tenzin's gotta be going out of his mind. [He seems like he's constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop, trying to anticipate the next disaster. She can't blame him for it; everything has been an almost non-stop disaster. But there are times, like right now, where she misses the City. Yeah, the curses fucked with her head and made life difficult, but she'd also been free.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ He wants to ask, Are you sure? Exhaustion and sadness twirl from the surface of her skin like smoke, caught like a heavy scent in her hair and the weave of her clothes. He knows a trick or two for erasing that. Go too long without indulgence and the system gets bollixed up. All he needs is an hour with her, and he swears he'll wring the tension out of her so good she'll sleep for a week. ]

[ Except she's right. Now isn't the time. ]

[ So he nods, and kisses her. Full on the mouth -- a warm, soft slide of lips. Then her neck, the curve of her breasts, her flat little belly. Half memorizing her warmth, her sweet contours, against future privation. Half reassuring her that if she changes her mind -- today, tomorrow -- this bottomless attention, this bittersweet greed for her, will always be there. ]

[ Lifting his head, he nudges his nose lightly against hers. ]

I'll see you off to the ferry.

[anatural]

[She kisses him fiercely, and it's clear how much she's missed him. She doesn't want him to leave; she doesn't want to lose this before she's even had a chance to have it again.]

You could come back with me. You aren't banned from the island completely.

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei inhales slowly between the swells of their kiss. He's forgotten the thrill, the completion, of such simple closeness, from having gone too long without it. Intimacy, the in-your-face kind, makes him invested and possessive, which is why he avoids it so aggressively. He's known this about himself for years, but is now experiencing a fresh new recognition. Yet, if fear of intimacy is a merit badge of manhood, a sign of tactical acumen, he is flunking, because he wants to mouth Korra all over and share secrets and a bed with her. He doesn't want to send her off alone. He likes the solidity of another body pressing close. It feels safe, not a shield against danger but a tactile source of nourishment. ]

[ Except he's not gotten this far by listening to his dick -- or that gooey, senseless mess of wants behind his ribcage. So he mouths the corner of her jaw, softly, and says, ]

I need to look for a new place. The safehouse won't cut it.

[ A silence stretches, in which he'd ordinarily let her go. Let the matter drop. But through this gesture he enters the mirror of Maxley, or maybe his father, men who'd unknowingly taught him how to turn away from others, not meeting their eyes, head bent as if there were more important things to focus on, like war-games, real estate or the cost of fruit. There is nothing more important. ]

[ In a low voice -- halting, almost awkward -- he adds, ]

Once I've found a new flat... why don't you move in?

[ It's said in the same tone he'd use for, Why don't we order sushi? Isn't this sort of moment, when it comes, supposed to be... heartfelt? Not some diversion from a catastrophe they've so narrowly averted? But half Hei's life has been spent functioning in that state. He's learnt to snatch any opportunity for solace when he can. ]

[anatural]

Are you sure? You saw what I did to your last place. [The humor is to cover up the skip in her heart and how badly she wants to just say Yes. She has to think about this; she can't be impulsive about it. She has responsibilities to Tenzin, to Republic City, to the world. She has to be thoughtful. (And oh, what a change that is from her 17 year old self.)]

[mortemscintilla]

If it happens again, it'll come out of your rent.

[ He makes ironical eyes at her, but his half-smile is gentle. Dimly, part of him wonders if this is wise. They've shared a living space before, yes. But the risks were different in the City. Korra didn't have to juggle the weight of Avatar duties with her private life. Hei didn't have to make an effort at maintaining a private life in the first place. If Tenzin or her parents caught wind of this, they'd either wrench her away -- or force them both together until they took, or something exploded.]

[ By asking her to move in, he might be ruining the last shred of happiness between them. ]

[ Yet, as he spans his arms around her, something in his aching chest relaxes and it is simply good: the inrushing smell of Korra's body, the brightness of her heat signature, the play of muscles and delightful softness. Maybe there are other girls somewhere who look more or less like Korra, speak like her, dress like her, but Hei never thinks them to be in the same species. No one else would be as welcome sitting on his couch, rummaging in his fridge. No one else would have that right or rightness. Korra fits a niche, the small particular niche that is his life, and fits in ways Hei can't label. What labels they've already given each other don't seem enough. When he tries to break down his sense of Korra into thoughtful elements, they come clumsily in words like zesty and sweet and textured, losing all the significance he's assigned them. He suspects Korra would laugh at this kind of description. ]

[ Instead, ]

Think about all the modern conveniences you can't get in your average stone-aged island. Meat in the fridge. Laundry privileges. Hot and cold running me.

[anatural]

[That actually gets a laugh out of her — something she hasn't been doing much of lately.]

I'm sold. [She squeezes him tightly.] But I'll have to talk to Tenzin first. And it can't be that far away from Air Temple Island. [She hates putting down restrictions already, especially knowing how little he likes them. But this is reality. She hasn't finished her training with Tenzin; she can't afford to be far away from him. And Naga would have to remain on the island, and Korra can't bear to be far from her first, oldest, and for many years only friend. She hopes he'll understand.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Ground rules already? Hei looks at his daft roommate-to-be, feeling a mingled fondness and exasperation. Something in him, the actor, the straight man, wants to make a face, but he leaves it alone. The scripted lines of a normal day have been struck out anyway. It has been a long time since he's improvised from his own terrifying heart. Quietly, he tucks her words away, unable to muster a response beyond a wide-eyed suspension of disbelief and a sense of having gone trippingly over the edge in an alley reeking of stale laundry and diarrhetic cats. ]

[ Twining a loose strand of her hair around his finger, he tugs gently. ]

I'll keep it in mind. [ There's a beat, before he allows himself a concession toward honesty. Not his preferred method of operating, but he doesn't want to give her the impression of having disappeared again, so soon after this mess. ] I'll be scarce for a week. But if you need to see me, ask for 'Li' at a smoke-house called Dusares.

[anatural]

[Daft? She would kick him so hard if she knew he'd thought that. He knows she has obligations and responsibilities and things she needs to consider on top of her own desires. She's not being high maintenance or unreasonable, unlike His Moody Majesty.

Fortunately, she doesn't know what's going on in his head, only that his hands are still on her and he's actually telling her where he'll be.]

What are you doing at a smoke-house?

[mortemscintilla]

[ She's daft in a cute way, if it's any consolation? ]

[ At her question, he hesitates. It's always a risk, divulging too much information about his whereabouts. Especially when he's prone to hanging out in the seediest quarters of the city, with individuals who have never represented the best of mankind, or even the best of snitches and mercenaries. Most of them are a step above sociopaths. Most of the rest are a step below. That's the problem with sinking into the underworld without a reputation to back you up. What you lack is the right connections, and that is what he's steadily made over the past months: connections. A person who is worth nothing must introduce you to a person worth next-to-nothing, and that person to another, and so on and so forth until finally you can step across the threshold to the Kingpin's den, almost one of the family. ]

[ Eventually, (gently), he says, ]

I rent a room there. Good thing about opium addicts? They have no energy to survive burglar traps.

[anatural]

[Grrrr.

She makes a face. Spending time around a bunch of drug users just sounds gross.]

Charming. But thank you. [She leans up to kiss him again. As much as she doesn't like the idea of him disappearing for another week, at least this time he's warned her. She can live with that.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ At least he hasn't mentioned the prostitutes -- a veritable buffet of jailbait. Or the fact that it's the sort of street where even the cats are thin and hollow-eyed for want of meat, where men who profess to be laborers never seem to labor and so-called washer-women rarely wash. Why bother? A do-gooder like Korra would do no good there, and likely storm home with despair and rage in her heart and shit on her shoes. ]

[ So instead he kisses her, with a soft greedy gasp vibrating against her mouth. Breaks away to lay his moist lips on her forehead, then spreads their drifting wake around one eye, across cheek and bone, across the tiny wayside of her ear, down to the pretty lips again. ]

[ After a beat, with effortful steadiness, ]

Let's go.

[ Before I do something stupid. ]

[anatural]

[She sighs and stands up.]

Okay. [Squeezing his hand, she starts heading reluctantly towards the dock.]