( A flinch, the instant, plain and deep-dug trenches of his mouth's corners in grimace. He was not born and reared and soured by the Lan, so he might give in now before tepid instigations. He will not be the artless fool who offends the dignity of a woman, even one as... lively as Zhou Fei.
...but he is tempted. Oh, so very tempted. Perhaps it is for the better Wei Ying was not gifted with a sister of his own temperament, lent to the sword. Lan Wangji can only have summoned so much patience, between two diligent temptations to wrench and rip his own hair out.
Just now, he dallies — one second, the next, until the staggered beat of his heart retreats from syncopation, evens out into mellow, respectable, natural moderation. Until he grips Bichen in a soothing hold, thumb pressing where her seals remain bound, qi tickling loose their edges — and he releases, sword fettered in her sheath, while he readies to step out. )
The seals should yield once we exit their territory. ( But he owes Zhou Fei more of an explanation, when he effectively condemns her to watch over his every step until they reach the garden grounds: ) We cannot brutalise a spiritual weapon by forcing their early release.
( Whatever restraint or curse has been locked onto the blade can wound it in ways Lan Wangji would sooner not flirt with, when the alternative risk is only to his person. )
no subject
( A flinch, the instant, plain and deep-dug trenches of his mouth's corners in grimace. He was not born and reared and soured by the Lan, so he might give in now before tepid instigations. He will not be the artless fool who offends the dignity of a woman, even one as... lively as Zhou Fei.
...but he is tempted. Oh, so very tempted. Perhaps it is for the better Wei Ying was not gifted with a sister of his own temperament, lent to the sword. Lan Wangji can only have summoned so much patience, between two diligent temptations to wrench and rip his own hair out.
Just now, he dallies — one second, the next, until the staggered beat of his heart retreats from syncopation, evens out into mellow, respectable, natural moderation. Until he grips Bichen in a soothing hold, thumb pressing where her seals remain bound, qi tickling loose their edges — and he releases, sword fettered in her sheath, while he readies to step out. )
The seals should yield once we exit their territory. ( But he owes Zhou Fei more of an explanation, when he effectively condemns her to watch over his every step until they reach the garden grounds: ) We cannot brutalise a spiritual weapon by forcing their early release.
( Whatever restraint or curse has been locked onto the blade can wound it in ways Lan Wangji would sooner not flirt with, when the alternative risk is only to his person. )