( And he holds Wrath's gaze silently, molten. Before the mould spores of necromancy, the filigree of quiet, rapid, tempestuous decisions that severed Wei Ying from the righteous path. In a stubborn, fragile, nascent time, when Wei Ying was still the pride of a world undeserving of him.
And now he is this: fractured, sharp bones and scant meat and spite, all of him, tame at its edges. Skill, born of whim and perpetual restlessness.
Lan Wangji should not, perhaps seem so settled, so at ease, bunching the wet strands of his hair in hand and rinsing them of their waters in fast scrunches, before abandoning the task to call upon a warming talisman instead. )
And my music brings him cold comfort. ( Love does not heal all wounds or smoothen all hurdles. It does not suddenly, limpidly remove all obstacles to compatibility. The bridging is artificial, forced. He understands now, with the maturity of a man who has surrendered away his youth. )
no subject
...before.
( And he holds Wrath's gaze silently, molten. Before the mould spores of necromancy, the filigree of quiet, rapid, tempestuous decisions that severed Wei Ying from the righteous path. In a stubborn, fragile, nascent time, when Wei Ying was still the pride of a world undeserving of him.
And now he is this: fractured, sharp bones and scant meat and spite, all of him, tame at its edges. Skill, born of whim and perpetual restlessness.
Lan Wangji should not, perhaps seem so settled, so at ease, bunching the wet strands of his hair in hand and rinsing them of their waters in fast scrunches, before abandoning the task to call upon a warming talisman instead. )
And my music brings him cold comfort. ( Love does not heal all wounds or smoothen all hurdles. It does not suddenly, limpidly remove all obstacles to compatibility. The bridging is artificial, forced. He understands now, with the maturity of a man who has surrendered away his youth. )
You have not failed your wife. Be glad of it.