[ something feels-- shifted. Wei Ying doesn't know if it is in him or in Lan Zhan or between the two of them, but something isn't sitting quite the way that it used to. and Wei Ying finds that he is okay with that, despite not quite knowing where to put his foot, he feels that, maybe even if he were to misstep, with Lan Zhan it would not matter.
with a huff, Wei Ying steps close, reaches out to take the robe. considers arguing again, but instead just gives a soft smile.]
Ah Lan Zhan, are you trying to spoil me with all this attention? [ he voice doesn't hold its usual humour, instead, he sounds almost wistful.] Mmmm, we should go, shouldn't we.
Edited (how many times can i fuck up one tag) 2019-12-25 01:27 (UTC)
[Wangji sees that moment of hesitation when Wei Ying steps close, expects an argument but receives none. With another soft quirk of his lips, he assists in draping the robe over Wei Ying's shoulders, fingers trailing along the delicate beading and filigree. Beautiful, really. Both the robe and Wei Ying. It's a shame that such a garment is being worn for a funeral and not a happier occasion.
His gaze flicks back up to Wei Ying at the question, but doesn't answer it. The truth is still too painful to speak, too raw, too dangerous. Instead, he focuses on the task at hand.] Yes.
[ there is a flicker of surprise when Lan Zhan helps him with the robe, helps him pull it over the deep crimson he usually wears, the contrast so very different from his usual dark grey and black. it is-- nice. whether he means the robe or the closeness with Lan Zhan isn't clear to even himself.
for a moment, Wei Ying just stands there eyes lingering on the folds of the robe, the delicate details around his chest, fingers coming up to trail against them lightly, before a faint smile flickers across his face. he shakes it off though, shakes off the feeling of something else, before turning to Lan Zhan and linking their arms.
it feels right, to tug Lan Zhan along, even if he doesn't have to.]
Come, we don't want to be late. Though I am sure they would expect such a thing from me, best not to tarnish your image.
[Wangji should probably look away, but Wei Ying is so breathtakingly beautiful in this robe that he can't tell himself to part his eyes from the sight. The filigree detail accents Wei Ying's jaw, draws Wangji's gaze up to his lips. Stunning, really. His heart swells in his chest, his limbs compel him to do something, anything, but then the moment passes. Wei Ying, instead, links their arms, takes the action, and Wangji allows himself to be pulled along.
A small smile quirks the edges of his lips as he grabs Bichen on the way out.] It is your acquaintance.
[His reputation will suffer no loss, even if he were late, but it's best to be respectful.]
[ something lingers in the air between them, crackles like lighting before a storm, has Wei Ying caught on the lines of then and now and could be. he should do something, he knows that, but he doesn't know what he should do. so he just pulls Lan Zhan along, maybe holds him a little tighter, a little closer, than he might usually.
and if his fingers curl around Lan Zhan's wrist, fingertips against the thin skin there, well that's just for him.]
Ah it is, but they expect such absurdity from the Yiling Patriarch at this point. Perhaps they do not expect me at all, but I would still like to pay my respects.
[Wangji has long since passed the point of caring who might see the the two of them like this: close, drawn in, touching. The fingertips resting against the soft skin of his wrist do not bother him. Much the opposite, such an embrace comforts Wangji, reminds him that Wei Ying is here and present and not dancing out of reach. Some may consider him controlling, but after his lifetime, he would rather embrace Wei Ying every day than chance time apart.
The journey to Yiling is such an example. Others may see the task as frivolous, but Wangji would not pass it up.
He shifts his grip just enough to barely touch Wei Ying's fingers with his own, to hold him steady and provide a pillar of support.] All the better to subvert their expectations.
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with a huff, Wei Ying steps close, reaches out to take the robe. considers arguing again, but instead just gives a soft smile.]
Ah Lan Zhan, are you trying to spoil me with all this attention? [ he voice doesn't hold its usual humour, instead, he sounds almost wistful.] Mmmm, we should go, shouldn't we.
no subject
His gaze flicks back up to Wei Ying at the question, but doesn't answer it. The truth is still too painful to speak, too raw, too dangerous. Instead, he focuses on the task at hand.] Yes.
[Nothing can last forever.]
no subject
for a moment, Wei Ying just stands there eyes lingering on the folds of the robe, the delicate details around his chest, fingers coming up to trail against them lightly, before a faint smile flickers across his face. he shakes it off though, shakes off the feeling of something else, before turning to Lan Zhan and linking their arms.
it feels right, to tug Lan Zhan along, even if he doesn't have to.]
Come, we don't want to be late. Though I am sure they would expect such a thing from me, best not to tarnish your image.
no subject
A small smile quirks the edges of his lips as he grabs Bichen on the way out.] It is your acquaintance.
[His reputation will suffer no loss, even if he were late, but it's best to be respectful.]
no subject
and if his fingers curl around Lan Zhan's wrist, fingertips against the thin skin there, well that's just for him.]
Ah it is, but they expect such absurdity from the Yiling Patriarch at this point. Perhaps they do not expect me at all, but I would still like to pay my respects.
no subject
The journey to Yiling is such an example. Others may see the task as frivolous, but Wangji would not pass it up.
He shifts his grip just enough to barely touch Wei Ying's fingers with his own, to hold him steady and provide a pillar of support.] All the better to subvert their expectations.