( A homewrecker, and how the bright bone edge of her teeth catches candle light in sinister, sterile shine. How she grins, and whatever weapon cleaved to shape her distorted mouth must have been a dulled and blunt thing, coarsely purposed.
He is expected, he knows with distant but absolute certainty, to parade a plethora of thespian ambitions he has never taken the time to cultivate. To persuade the fox that what guides him isn't the tender and overwhelming instinct for his spirit to extricate itself from the gilded cage of his flesh any heartbeat now — but overwhelming affection.
...for this man, whom Lan Wangji measures between the dry clicks of the fox bride's heels on the groaning floor, and finds... inexorably wanting: missing raven-dark hair, a smile ripe like wine stains, of death nipping at his fingertips like a hunting dog. Still, Lan Wangji — makes attempt. )
Pure. ( He blinks. The fox, gawking ahead, imitates him. Then, equally placid: ) And sincere.
( He might as well be reciting the ingredient list of the day's overly filled steamed buns, sold at the marketplace. As luck would have it, here and now, they are not bereft of salt. )
We are. ( Lick of his lips, slow. What will satisfy her? ) Pledged to honour bonds. Such as they are. Pure. Pristine.
no subject
He is expected, he knows with distant but absolute certainty, to parade a plethora of thespian ambitions he has never taken the time to cultivate. To persuade the fox that what guides him isn't the tender and overwhelming instinct for his spirit to extricate itself from the gilded cage of his flesh any heartbeat now — but overwhelming affection.
...for this man, whom Lan Wangji measures between the dry clicks of the fox bride's heels on the groaning floor, and finds... inexorably wanting: missing raven-dark hair, a smile ripe like wine stains, of death nipping at his fingertips like a hunting dog. Still, Lan Wangji — makes attempt. )
Pure. ( He blinks. The fox, gawking ahead, imitates him. Then, equally placid: ) And sincere.
( He might as well be reciting the ingredient list of the day's overly filled steamed buns, sold at the marketplace. As luck would have it, here and now, they are not bereft of salt. )
We are. ( Lick of his lips, slow. What will satisfy her? ) Pledged to honour bonds. Such as they are. Pure. Pristine.
( ...the fox might, by now, be squinting. )
Bonds shape the world.