[He doesn't want to get into an argument about subjective opinions, especially not while drunk, but he can't quite stop his tongue from speaking a little bit. He shakes his head.]
Maybe what's left of my face.
[He's not vain. Proud, sometimes. But he can't even fall back on his looks when what's inside has become so torn up and disgusting to himself. He doesn't want to talk about it, not if he can help it.
So he listens to Xie Lian's words, trying to file away the glory that old title seems to carry. It sounds pretty. It sounds wonderful.
It sounds like Xie Lian has lost things, too.
But something else tugs at Xingchen.]
I believe in you. You're right here.
[He squeezes Xie Lian's wrist, as if reassuring himself that his remaining senses aren't fooling him. He laughs a little.]
no subject
Maybe what's left of my face.
[He's not vain. Proud, sometimes. But he can't even fall back on his looks when what's inside has become so torn up and disgusting to himself. He doesn't want to talk about it, not if he can help it.
So he listens to Xie Lian's words, trying to file away the glory that old title seems to carry. It sounds pretty. It sounds wonderful.
It sounds like Xie Lian has lost things, too.
But something else tugs at Xingchen.]
I believe in you. You're right here.
[He squeezes Xie Lian's wrist, as if reassuring himself that his remaining senses aren't fooling him. He laughs a little.]
I'm drunk, but I'm not that drunk, right?