( He doesn't think, by this point. By the time he's been brought to ground, when the chaos rings in his ears as memory more than the incessant press of it, near. The pressure at his back, the hand under his arm, the warmth and direction Lan Zhan provides is the anchor that keeps his wandering exhaustion from simpler collapse. Is what summons a smile, hah, smiles, and stumbles, and walks again with the deliberate reminder to himself: lift foot. set foot down. lift, ah, yes, lean.
He stands still when prompted, blinks at the touch at his temple. Focuses, the effort of his eyes dilating and oh, he smiles beatifically, eyes red from effort, from loss, and from emotion.
He feels them. All those dead twice and dying, and Nightless City, he knows this too. )
I won't leave. ( Not acknowledgement, because doing well is the ache in his chest that Yanli had spoken to him once, that Lan Zhan exists the only other living person to do the same, and oh. Oh, how he leans into his husband then, forehead lowered, seeking to rest on Lan Zhan's shoulder. ) This is no Nightless City. I won't go.
( Confronted with greed, the avarice of the dead, but not the heartbreak, the gutting, of every precious thing he fought for. Sizhui lives. Lan Zhan lives. The members of their chaotic company persist.
Wei Wuxian speaks into Lan Zhan's shoulder. Mumbles, eyes closed, fingers clutching. Squeezing. He's not sure what he's holding, but it must be, it is, something of Lan Zhan. )
I'm here. I won't go.
( Don't let go of me, and this time, I won't let go of you. )
no subject
( He doesn't think, by this point. By the time he's been brought to ground, when the chaos rings in his ears as memory more than the incessant press of it, near. The pressure at his back, the hand under his arm, the warmth and direction Lan Zhan provides is the anchor that keeps his wandering exhaustion from simpler collapse. Is what summons a smile, hah, smiles, and stumbles, and walks again with the deliberate reminder to himself: lift foot. set foot down. lift, ah, yes, lean.
He stands still when prompted, blinks at the touch at his temple. Focuses, the effort of his eyes dilating and oh, he smiles beatifically, eyes red from effort, from loss, and from emotion.
He feels them. All those dead twice and dying, and Nightless City, he knows this too. )
I won't leave. ( Not acknowledgement, because doing well is the ache in his chest that Yanli had spoken to him once, that Lan Zhan exists the only other living person to do the same, and oh. Oh, how he leans into his husband then, forehead lowered, seeking to rest on Lan Zhan's shoulder. ) This is no Nightless City. I won't go.
( Confronted with greed, the avarice of the dead, but not the heartbreak, the gutting, of every precious thing he fought for. Sizhui lives. Lan Zhan lives. The members of their chaotic company persist.
Wei Wuxian speaks into Lan Zhan's shoulder. Mumbles, eyes closed, fingers clutching. Squeezing. He's not sure what he's holding, but it must be, it is, something of Lan Zhan. )
I'm here. I won't go.
( Don't let go of me, and this time, I won't let go of you. )