( a gentle frown sets the lines of xingchen's mouth — it's about what he expected, but nevertheless he remains hopeful that one day things will become better. it feels like song lan's disappointment in him is tangible through the air, piercing and sharp and evident, more so by the sudden touching xue yang has going on than otherwise. or maybe it's just in his mind, creating an issue where there is none, dreaming he might be affected. song lan, after all, doesn't sound too bothered.
even if that's what has put a wedge so deep between them it might never unhinge itself, even if song lan left long before xue yang was ever a factor in xingchen's life. the fact remains — xue yang was here at a time when song lan was not. all three of them have to live with that ever present reality. )
Yes. ( he nods, trying at small talk. ) It's ... a warm night.
( or maybe it's just made warm by the kitten sprawled in his lap, xingchen's hand resting softly over his throat, feeling the rise and fall of his swallowed words whenever they leave him. the closeness is nice — something that was missing, a void xue yang had seen filled. maybe it's selfish, to want for more than what life has given him. he has two hands, after all, and song lan is just a heartbeat a way. )
Would you like to listen to a story?
( it is, admittedly, a little awkwardly put, but. xiao xingchen is still trying to get them all to get along, together. he offers a small, sheepish smile. )
On occasion, Xue Yang reads to me. Perhaps ... ( i can rub the lack of my sight in your face some more? what were you thinking, xingchen, honestly. ) Ah. Nevermind.
no subject
even if that's what has put a wedge so deep between them it might never unhinge itself, even if song lan left long before xue yang was ever a factor in xingchen's life. the fact remains — xue yang was here at a time when song lan was not. all three of them have to live with that ever present reality. )
Yes. ( he nods, trying at small talk. ) It's ... a warm night.
( or maybe it's just made warm by the kitten sprawled in his lap, xingchen's hand resting softly over his throat, feeling the rise and fall of his swallowed words whenever they leave him. the closeness is nice — something that was missing, a void xue yang had seen filled. maybe it's selfish, to want for more than what life has given him. he has two hands, after all, and song lan is just a heartbeat a way. )
Would you like to listen to a story?
( it is, admittedly, a little awkwardly put, but. xiao xingchen is still trying to get them all to get along, together. he offers a small, sheepish smile. )
On occasion, Xue Yang reads to me. Perhaps ... ( i can rub the lack of my sight in your face some more? what were you thinking, xingchen, honestly. ) Ah. Nevermind.