You're My Heart

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Lo'ak isn't there for the moment when Neytiri confronts Jake.

He's hidden inside the glorious tropical forests of Awa'atlu with Tsireya. She keeps pacing, switching between fiddling with the shells on her seagrass loincloth or the shiny beads swirling along her dangly woven top.

"I'm sure it will be alright," she murmurs, glancing Lo'ak's way, fingers tangling in her necklace strings, jittery.

Lo'ak's lips twitch into a tired smile; he's sure she's comforting herself with her words more than she is comforting him right now. He's exhausted himself beyond the point of feeling. His head is clear and his heartbeat has slowed — Tsireya is steady working herself up much like the rising sun of summer's dewy mornings.

"It will be."

Tsireya turns suddenly and takes a few steps in the other direction, eyes darting around the forest as if she expects Jake Sully to come barrelling down the paths to set fire to them both. "He cannot do anything to us. Your mother would not let him."

Lo'ak shrugs. "He does whatever she wants like a lost puppy."

Tsireya pauses, blinking quickly. "Pupey?"

Lo'ak has to bite his lower lip to stop swooning. Now is not the time for such shenanigans. "It's a kind of animal on Earth. The people there keep them as pets and sometimes they're really small and cute. They have hair everywhere on their body."

She gapes in fascination. "I cannot imagine a creature covered everywhere in hair. That just seems inconvenient."

"Well, it doesn't really grow that long for most types of them," Lo'ak hums, watching a curious green bug trying to climb onto his arm, little legs reaching for him from the tree it's been climbing along.

"Oh," Tsireya breathes, stepping closer. "Don't let that touch you. They bite really strong and it burns for days."

Lo'ak steps to the side with a small noise of acknowledgement. "What is it?"

"It's a kruìmril," she replies, coming to stand next to him, lacing their fingers. She tucks herself away into his side and smiles sweetly up at him, the conversation distracting her from her worries. "One bit Ao'nung once when we were children. He whined about it for three days and I do believe he's the reason for the lines on father's forehead. Ao'nung wouldn't let him sleep. He was mayhaps thirteen at the time and demanded cuddles, but the pain made him wiggle about like a little worm."

"He's cuddly?" Lo'ak raises a brow, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer. "I wouldn't have thought."

Tsireya giggles behind her hand. "Well. Ao'nung is very loveable secretly. He pretends to be mean so the people think he is not to be messed with. But he cried when he realised he fancied Neteyam for the first time and demanded that I play with his hair to soothe him."

"He likes when people play with his hair?"

Tsireya tilts her head, gazing up into Lo'ak's golden eyes. "You are gathering information for Neteyam. But I assure you, your brother already knows this."

Lo'ak squints. "Does he come to you?"

"Of course he does. But unfortunately, Ao'nung was too shy to go to you, so he mainly bothers Tuk." Tsireya plucks a stray leaf from Lo'ak's hair and laughs softly by his ear.

Lo'ak snorts, shaking his head. "Never would have thought."

Tsireya continues smiling fondly at him, eyes still holding a hint of nervousness hidden among the blue — but he can see it anyway. Her fingers shake slightly as she smoothes her top down, swallowing nervously. "Can I tell you something?"

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