( three seasons. almost a year, and the chuckle that fills the air between them stills his lips downward rather than lifting their corners. he swallows. again, struggling against the dryness there, tight with conflicting wants. one the one hand, there is one thing he desperately wants to hear. on the other, heβs afraid to, wondering what it might mean or entail, an echo of the hollow and mysterious ache thatβs settled deep in his bones. he knows the way of the witches now, and their monsters. and wei wuxian is alone.
slowly his head rises, gaze half-expectant, a hint of earnestness. thereβs a moment of hesitation as he risks a glance, but then his eyes wonβt stray, once locked on their target, wei wuxianβs, luminous in the dark. he breathes, and then, oddly evenly: ) And yet you remain without a bond.
no subject
slowly his head rises, gaze half-expectant, a hint of earnestness. thereβs a moment of hesitation as he risks a glance, but then his eyes wonβt stray, once locked on their target, wei wuxianβs, luminous in the dark. he breathes, and then, oddly evenly: ) And yet you remain without a bond.