( He murmurs back, like trading coin, his silver scarce. Mouth dry when it lands on Wei Ying's forehead, when he nudges his husband to wilt, back straight and stiff against the wall, and rest like a boneless kitten.
The is sorcery to whisper, words to ground. Sleep, a command that qi could implement through drainage. He does not insult his soulmate with that strike.
Instead, long slide of his back, like dripping lichens, he collapses down on hard ground — one leg folded beneath him in seiza, the other before him, grounding Bichen where she anchors in rubble.
no subject
No guilt.
( He murmurs back, like trading coin, his silver scarce. Mouth dry when it lands on Wei Ying's forehead, when he nudges his husband to wilt, back straight and stiff against the wall, and rest like a boneless kitten.
The is sorcery to whisper, words to ground. Sleep, a command that qi could implement through drainage. He does not insult his soulmate with that strike.
Instead, long slide of his back, like dripping lichens, he collapses down on hard ground — one leg folded beneath him in seiza, the other before him, grounding Bichen where she anchors in rubble.
Wei Ying must sleep. Wangji will hold vigil.
It is done. It must be done. )