( it’s his eyes, he thinks. genuine, warm. he looks at sizhui and easily sees a-yuan, the boy who clung to his leg, once upon a time. the boy whose nose reddened wet when lan wangji held him close in his bed, when a-yuan held his head with his tiny arms, even as lan wangji struggled not to sob, both mourning the same man. it’s what he is, now. a man, grown without him, but time is a fickle thing, and lan wangji still has so much to lose.
he rises to meet him, a bow of his head as his lips soften, relief in his eyes. ) Sizhui. ( he mouths more than he speaks, one arm poised behind his back. ) You wear the Gusulan attire with dignity. ( and a sliver of pride swells in his chest. )
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Date: 2020-09-04 02:36 am (UTC)he rises to meet him, a bow of his head as his lips soften, relief in his eyes. ) Sizhui. ( he mouths more than he speaks, one arm poised behind his back. ) You wear the Gusulan attire with dignity. ( and a sliver of pride swells in his chest. )