( He is sorry, rumbles the twinge of searing phantom ache in Lan Wangji's groin, as if apologies stitch back wounding and revive a man's hopes and dreams of siring heirs.
May the heavens bless Sizhui and give him life long-lasting.
And then, Wei Ying murmurs, ruinous — are they just broken? No. He raises himself, on his elbow, skidding, anchoring down. Turns to catch Wei Ying's stormed gaze: )
Intact. ( No, the kittenish tip of his head. And he concedes: ) Mending.
( He will not let this be what plunges Wei Ying back into the depths of self-doubt and injury. No fault breathes in him, but the vile alliance with spices that have no business in the act of being.
He rushes to expel snow dusted on Wei Ying's mouth corners, the cold of failure from his bones. )
Inconsequential. We wed until Wei Ying's virtue no longer defends itself.
( Clearly, the trouble here is one of memory, Wei Ying's fresh-gained flesh yet to fall in duet with his vows. Once his mind concedes to matrimony, his body will follow. Uncouth men speak of peasants who tumble on the first, likely hyperbolic encounter, with no temple present to witness their bows. But then, Wei Ying was raised a gentleman.
Eight is a fortuitous number. Surely, it can be this simple. They will make it so. )
no subject
( He is sorry, rumbles the twinge of searing phantom ache in Lan Wangji's groin, as if apologies stitch back wounding and revive a man's hopes and dreams of siring heirs.
May the heavens bless Sizhui and give him life long-lasting.
And then, Wei Ying murmurs, ruinous — are they just broken? No. He raises himself, on his elbow, skidding, anchoring down. Turns to catch Wei Ying's stormed gaze: )
Intact. ( No, the kittenish tip of his head. And he concedes: ) Mending.
( He will not let this be what plunges Wei Ying back into the depths of self-doubt and injury. No fault breathes in him, but the vile alliance with spices that have no business in the act of being.
He rushes to expel snow dusted on Wei Ying's mouth corners, the cold of failure from his bones. )
Inconsequential. We wed until Wei Ying's virtue no longer defends itself.
( Clearly, the trouble here is one of memory, Wei Ying's fresh-gained flesh yet to fall in duet with his vows. Once his mind concedes to matrimony, his body will follow. Uncouth men speak of peasants who tumble on the first, likely hyperbolic encounter, with no temple present to witness their bows. But then, Wei Ying was raised a gentleman.
Eight is a fortuitous number. Surely, it can be this simple. They will make it so. )