silverneedles: (083)
wen qing ([personal profile] silverneedles) wrote in [community profile] westwhere 2022-04-25 01:06 am (UTC)

[ There are few people she would ask for this, a vulnerability too close to her heart. At home, a weakness like this would have been exploited; she has remembered those lessons too well.

Her hand trembles slightly as she picks up and then lowers her cup without drinking, and she watches Lan Wangji for a minute that stretches like an eternity. He will not use it against her, and asking him does not carry the same awkwardness as asking Jiang Cheng or her nephew. ]
Burned or torn away. Just off my back. [ The ones on her arms she's torn away. They grow back, seemingly overnight, but she wants them gone.

A small shuffle away from the table and she turns her back, pulling her hair over her shoulder. It should not be awkward; all she is doing is lowering her robes, with the same clinical precision she has looked at nude patients before. But reversed, like this, she feels exposed, open to the core. Her back is more scales than pale flesh, shimmering in the light from the lanterns, and each breath she draws or shift she makes causes them to catch the light.

Hanguang-jun will not look at her like anything but a duty asked, she knows, and for that she is thankful. ]
Be quick.

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