( His lips twitch, blocked from claiming fruits that aren't precisely wanted, or welcome, but now incontrovertibly Lan Zhan's, and he reverses movement, ensures nothing else remains nestled, hidden, in his basket. Takes to bundling up the shawl, packing it in without fanfare, still faced away until the burn ceases, and he can turn back, half smiling, eyes glossy but hidden in the darkening hour. )
So is it you want to know, or you don't? One might ask where demands are unnecessary.
( He slips the basket back on his arm, waiting. Clouds stretch thin high overhead, hidden from most angles, but visible through the slant of the window. Sun yearns to settle behind the landscape surrounding, but for now it waits, hangs low and brilliant in crimson and coral and every aching colour of orange and yellow that binds itself to a warmth missing, at times, from the moments that settle into their silences. )
no subject
So is it you want to know, or you don't? One might ask where demands are unnecessary.
( He slips the basket back on his arm, waiting. Clouds stretch thin high overhead, hidden from most angles, but visible through the slant of the window. Sun yearns to settle behind the landscape surrounding, but for now it waits, hangs low and brilliant in crimson and coral and every aching colour of orange and yellow that binds itself to a warmth missing, at times, from the moments that settle into their silences. )