[ Some nights, Mo Ran evades sleep, unwilling to face the names scrawled across his skin when he wakes. That's one such night, when he hears Xie Lian crying out in the next room.
Mo Ran's not good at offering comfort like this, or at least not without food, but still he makes his way to Xie Lian's room, tapping on the door and pushing it open gently, the wood creaking. ]
Daozhang?
[ He approaches the bed on quiet feet, almost afraid of waking him, if he's asleep. ]
the haunting
Mo Ran's not good at offering comfort like this, or at least not without food, but still he makes his way to Xie Lian's room, tapping on the door and pushing it open gently, the wood creaking. ]
Daozhang?
[ He approaches the bed on quiet feet, almost afraid of waking him, if he's asleep. ]