downswing: (corset)
ʟᴀɴ ᴡᴀɴɢᴊɪ | 蓝忘机 ([personal profile] downswing) wrote in [community profile] westwhere 2021-06-20 04:20 pm (UTC)

Moments today, hours tomorrow, months of hard healing without the appropriate salves.

Siphoned, the dregs of Lan Wangji's qi — and was it worthwhile, to loan Jiang Wanyin the better strain of his core, the lion's share of strength? — trickle down in transfer, tickling familiar pathways warm, wished and whisked closer to Sizhui's meridians. May he feed, then, as he once did when he rested a child and river stone grazed at his ankles, took arms against his calved.

When a father's doting could be forgiven for vanity and dignity, more than the fear that haunts the sleepless house of his chest now, burdening its foundations. He will cripple, cave in, deplete himself. If he breathes now, and he does not temper, the next exhalation will leave him barren.

"You have it. A lifetime." Bide Lan Wangji only the hour to replenish himself, and then. "You played without moderation."

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