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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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.