Wen Chao is dead and his brother is back and that's honestly the only thoughts in his head as they retreat to where they're staying for this part of the campaign against the Wen sect. Three months with nothing and he just shows up right in front of them and he's still not sure he's ready to believe Wei Wuxian is back.
It's later that night when he finally has time to breathe, if not sleep because sleep isn't something that comes easily and even when it does, it's plagued by nightmares so he usually ends up awake and pacing in of the quieter areas of their base of operations.
It's not relaxing but sleeping is honestly worse and his mind keeps replaying the scenes at the Supervisory office.
Sleep isn't something that Wei Ying has managed much of in the last three months. Hell, not something that he has managed a great deal of in the last twelve months if he really things about it, but the last three were certainly some of the worst. There wasn't much sleep to be found in the Burial Mounds, between the energy and his own mind, sleep was too close to death for him to feel all that comfortable with it. And now-- now he is used to this kind of half awake state, of sleep lingering just out of his reach and leaving him wanting but never close enough to touch.
In the last few months, he has gotten very good at idle work. From meditating to whittling, something that kept him occupied but not exactly expending energy. Now, in the relative safety of a friendly camp, Wei Ying could add something like patrolling to the list. He found himself a quiet corner of shadows, and sat himself there, one leg dangling off the low wall he was sitting at, the other folded up. There would be pacing if he thought it necessary but--
Well it seems he wasn't the only one awake at this time.
In the dark, he can see the all too familiar silhouette of Jiang Cheng pacing in the shadows near by, restless and conflicted.
"You know, if you keep to a set path there, we will have a nice little area start laying coffins." His voice is low, almost quiet, but it still carries in the dark easily. Still has the edges of amusement wearing at the edges.
The voice startles him, his head whipping around even as he recognizes it, his expression twisting for a moment before he's just frowning even as he comes to lean against the wall beside where Wei Wuxian's sitting.
There's something different about him, that much anyone can see, but putting it into words is harder than just knowing it's there and he swats at Wei Wuxian's ankle.
Wei Ying snorts at the question, eyebrow raising on his face as he gives Jiang Cheng a pointed look, lips curling at the edges. It isn't quite a smile, but it's almost there. Smiling, much like sleeping, was something that Wei Ying wasn't quite used to anymore either, those months with resentful energy never gave him much to smile about, so when he tries now it feels-- strained. Not really foreign but like he has forgotten the nuances of the gestures.
Instead, he kicks Jiang Cheng's shoulder lightly. Playfully.
"Why are you awake, mmm?" Pot, meet kettle. Humming quietly, he tugs Chenqing from his belt and twirls it idly around his fingers. Thoughtless, habit. "Sleep seems rather trivial at times like this, doesn't it."
He can't argue with that,even if for him, sleep is more an invitation to relive the things he could see when he closed his eyes, the moments he didn't want to think about too clearly. But the kick has him swatting at his brother's ankle, fingers curling around it for a moment.
"I don't want to sleep." After a moment, his head dropping back against the wall, eyes closing.
The hand on his ankle is warm, even through the fabric of his boots, and it stills his movements if only for a moment. Ever since-- ever since his core was removed, Wei Ying finds himself feeling colder than usual, chilled. Or perhaps that is from the resentment that seems to constantly curl around in his hollow chest, either or. He shakes the thoughts and shadows off, watching as Jiang Cheng leans back against the wall, eyes closing slightly.
He looks tired. Worn.
(Protect him)
"Don't want to, or can't. I'm not carrying you if you pass out, I hope you know that." A lie. He would, no questions asked.
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Thigns and stuff
It's later that night when he finally has time to breathe, if not sleep because sleep isn't something that comes easily and even when it does, it's plagued by nightmares so he usually ends up awake and pacing in of the quieter areas of their base of operations.
It's not relaxing but sleeping is honestly worse and his mind keeps replaying the scenes at the Supervisory office.
whistles horrible flute tunes
In the last few months, he has gotten very good at idle work. From meditating to whittling, something that kept him occupied but not exactly expending energy. Now, in the relative safety of a friendly camp, Wei Ying could add something like patrolling to the list. He found himself a quiet corner of shadows, and sat himself there, one leg dangling off the low wall he was sitting at, the other folded up. There would be pacing if he thought it necessary but--
Well it seems he wasn't the only one awake at this time.
In the dark, he can see the all too familiar silhouette of Jiang Cheng pacing in the shadows near by, restless and conflicted.
"You know, if you keep to a set path there, we will have a nice little area start laying coffins." His voice is low, almost quiet, but it still carries in the dark easily. Still has the edges of amusement wearing at the edges.
Re: whistles horrible flute tunes
There's something different about him, that much anyone can see, but putting it into words is harder than just knowing it's there and he swats at Wei Wuxian's ankle.
"...Why are you awake?"
no subject
Instead, he kicks Jiang Cheng's shoulder lightly. Playfully.
"Why are you awake, mmm?" Pot, meet kettle. Humming quietly, he tugs Chenqing from his belt and twirls it idly around his fingers. Thoughtless, habit. "Sleep seems rather trivial at times like this, doesn't it."
no subject
"I don't want to sleep." After a moment, his head dropping back against the wall, eyes closing.
no subject
He looks tired. Worn.
(Protect him)
"Don't want to, or can't. I'm not carrying you if you pass out, I hope you know that." A lie. He would, no questions asked.