Everything. [Jinora hates her. Tohru's gone. Arthur's gone. Hei is confusing and complicated and painful and even if she wanted to talk to anyone about him, she can't. (The last time she tried, she ended up killing Chekov.)]
[He flops down onto his back and looks up at the sky. Perhaps the answers to everyone's problems are written up there in that potentially artificial atmosphere.]
I have time, if you would like to elaborate. [Chekov looks over at Korra, just as sincere as ever.] I'm your friend. If you don't want me to tell anyone what you tell me, I won't.
[He does the same and grabs her hand before she can get up entirely. This isn't just weariness or a reaction to the knowledge that she's being spied on. Chekov knows about Korra's spat with Jinora and Tohru's disappearance; Jinora was upset about both and needed an outside party to listen to her. Bringing it up would be unfair to the young airbender, and he shouldn't pry, but...]
My father has told me that the worries we keep to ourselves never disappear. They're like injuries--they need to be tended to, or they get worse. [It's sound advice that Chekov often has difficulties listening to.] You don't need to tell them to me, but you shouldn't hold on to them.
[There. He didn't give anything away and it wasn't prying, really. Just advice.]
[Yeah, Korra's heard that before. It's good advice -- easier to hear than to follow. She reaches out to hug him (not as tightly as she usually would, still ever-mindful of how fragile he is)]
[Thank you is just a polite way to say I don't want to talk about it, but he didn't have high expectations. It would be extremely hypocritical to do more than offer the advice.]
Of course.
[And Chekov hugs her back just as tightly as ever, as if that alone can convince her that he's not so delicate as she thinks.]
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[He sits on the ground next to her, cross-legged and curious.]
What is it that you hate?
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I have time, if you would like to elaborate. [Chekov looks over at Korra, just as sincere as ever.] I'm your friend. If you don't want me to tell anyone what you tell me, I won't.
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It's fine. I'm just tired. I should probably get home.
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My father has told me that the worries we keep to ourselves never disappear. They're like injuries--they need to be tended to, or they get worse. [It's sound advice that Chekov often has difficulties listening to.] You don't need to tell them to me, but you shouldn't hold on to them.
[There. He didn't give anything away and it wasn't prying, really. Just advice.]
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Thank you.
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Of course.
[And Chekov hugs her back just as tightly as ever, as if that alone can convince her that he's not so delicate as she thinks.]
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She pulls away and shoves her hands in her pockets.]
We should do something fun sometime. When you're not busy.
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I can be not busy whenever you like.
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Why don't we meet at the park on Saturday. [A safer subject.]
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Good. Around noon?
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