"I don't know why you get so fussy when I mess with your hair," Korra hummed, deft fingers mussing the dark tufts of Tahno's hair - another shade she couldn't quite name, though she had often thought of some odd shade of blue-ish black. "You mess with mine all the time."
Tahno pressed his lips together, resisting the urge to sneer as her hands—as gentle as her touch may have been—sifted through his hair. She had made quite the habit of ruining his hair, and while it wasn’t nearly as put together as it had been during his days as a probender, he still appreciated his appearance and tried his best to look somewhat presentable.
Korra, however, seemed to like it when he looked as though he had just rolled from bed and hadn’t even bothered to finger-comb his hair.
"Maybe I care more for my appearance than you do," He said, interest muted as he pulled at her hands, bringing them to his lap. A crooked, closed-mouth smile pulled at his lips as he looked at their hands. Hers were small and dry, probably because she insisted that she was 'too warm for gloves’, even though the temperature was steadily dropping with each day.
It was a wonder they fit so well together. Tahno had long since stopped counting his blessings. His misfortune was great, but every moment he spent with Korra was a given—for they really shouldn’t have gotten along as well as they did.
He loved her, though. Even if she messed up his hair and argued with him and undoubtedly exchanged embarrassing stories about him with Shaozu.
A sigh left his lips, and he released one of her hands to fix his hair, pale fingers contrasting greatly against the dark, different pigment of his hair.
"I’ve got a reputation to protect, little girl. What would my beloved fans say if they saw me looking like a street rat, hm?”