( maybe he played himself. it’s hard to tell if the jump in his pulse is his own or wei wuxian’s, and he stares a little while longer, intent, but his bonded looks away and lan wangji is left slightly puzzled. there’s no visible panic on his face. if anything, he’s sweating, hands moist as he gracefully sits, absentmindedly rubbing them down his thighs.
it’s a risky game to play when you don’t know the stakes, and he takes a deep breath to compose himself, wondering whether he should really venture into that kind of territory. it’s a bit too late to back down now, and what’s more, there’s plenty that he doesn’t know, no need to add more confusion to his already perplexed state.
so what does he remember? lips part on a slow exhale, and... ) Colors. ( a lot of red. ) Faces. ( friends, he thinks. people he’s never seen before but know, as well as some conversations. ) The Wilde. ( ghosts. a decrepit outpost. a cave, too, with strange carvings etched into the stone. but some things are more obvious than others. impressions he can’t really explain, such as... ) Your kitchen table is filthy. ( in a way he also can’t describe, a flutter in his stomach, warmth everywhere else. he lifts his gaze and catches his, a little more adamant, despite the heat teasing his ears. ) And you wear a piece of the Gusulan ribbon around your wrist. ( namely his own, and his eyes never waver down to actually check, knowing it’s there. )
[it's an agonizing game to play when you do know the stakes. he doesn't know what lan wangji has remembered and what he hasn't, so he might be asked to explain a kiss or a touch, or a feeling of hatred for someone who the other barely knows. wei wuxian has to be prepared for anything, and yet he's walking into it blind.
lan wangji lists, making him realize that it's fragments of memories more than anything. he can manage that - until the comment about his table, and wei wuxian nearly chokes on a chestnut.]
That-! [he points at him, flushed and speechless until he collects himself.] I won't get rid of that table, no matter what you think of it.
[maybe if lan wangji thinks that the story is literally about the table and not what happened on it, he'll deem it unimportant and drop it. but the truth of the ribbon is more difficult to avoid. and wei wuxian finds that he doesn't actually want to. he doesn't want to downplay its importance, not in the giving or what it means to him.]
You tied it around my wrist when we first arrived here, as a reminder of honoring the wishes that we made together at Cloud Recesses. It never comes off - which reminds me. [lan wangji will have to make of that what he will. just as he'll have to ponder the meaning of wei wuxian placing the bag aside and biting off a length of his own red ribbon.] I probably should've done this a long time ago, but there's really nothing special about mine. It's just a ribbon.
[he reaches for lan wangi's wrist to tie loosely around it.]
( ha! so there is a reason why lan wangji won’t dare eat anywhere near that table. it’s ambiguous at best, but wei wuxian’s reaction only fuels his curiosity. filthy, he said. what kind of meal did they serve for wei ying of all people to get a little flustered? a memory he’s clearly fond of, too, since he won’t get rid of it, but it soon becomes insignificant when lan wangji is presented with another answer, nearly choking on his next inhale.
brows rise. eyes widen. the explanation makes sense, but the implications left unsaid cut his breath short. he knows, better than anyone, the significance of his headband. it’s a token of his teachings, the discipline of his clan, his own self-control. to share it with someone else is to let go, to let them in, guard lowered, heart exposed, and he thinks he actually stops breathing for a second there, blanching a little. his skin grows even paler when wei wuxian ties a red one around his own wrist, and he’s too stupefied to move, chest pounding, the pressure there clawing through his rib cage. there’s something in his throat. he can’t decide whether it’s a cry, a scream, a sigh. but he swallows past it with visible difficulty, wei wuxian’s words echoing through his mind, squeezing around his heart.
it hurts, a dull ache. it’s in his bones, in his blood. a little watery in his eyes. it chafes, and scorches, and flays. but it warms, too, and lan wangji looks at him touched beyond measure, lost in a maelstrom of sensations.
circumstances made it that wei wuxian keeps a low opinion of himself, and lan wangji shakes his head slowly, fingers brushing against the red ribbon. ) All things are trivial, until we give them meaning. ( objects are just that. nothing more, nothing else. and wei wuxian is nothing short of extraordinary.
his lips soften. his eyes, too. he breathes in once, twice. and... )You have meaning.
[it's so like lan wangji to remind him of that. to not only not allow others to put him down, but not letting wei wuxian to do it to himself either. it's still hard to believe, sometimes. but if someone as good as lan wangji believes it, then he wants it to be true, he strives for it, and so the effect is largely the same.
he smiles at him, warm and grateful, his fingers curling around the other's wrist again. he can still share touches like this without worry, because he always did before. affection and intimacy between them didn't start with their marriage, or even their bonding.]
That belongs to you too, Lan Zhan.
[whatever meaning he has, whatever he means to him, it's all for him now. they're soulmates, bondmates, best friends. the importance of all those things hasn't been dimished in wei wuxian's eyes - if anything, they mean more to him now. he means everything, and it's the one thing wei wuxian will never forget.]
So, should we test it out? [the warmth in wei wuxian's eyes and his smile go from warm to blazing mischief with his vague suggestion.] Let's see just how strong our bond is now.
( he almost wants to protest. wei wuxian doesn’t, nor should he, belong to anyone. but it’s not what he means, not really, and lan wangji flushes all over again, wondering if he’d say the same, if he knew. if he knew the notes of gentle interest between each heartbeat. if he knew the ache they cause, excruciating and exquisite. if he knew the hollow space between them, shaped like his absence. if he knew his thoughts, his dreams, his wants, overwhelming beneath his shaky resolve, threatening to burst through. if he knew of his sheer admiration, tinted with warmth and affection.
can he sense it all, frayed at the seams? lan wangji gazes into his eyes breathless, curious and searching and awed, expression open, honest. it’s almost naive, and he looks so young in his careful bashfulness, but he thinks, maybe, that what wei wuxian means to him might be clear in that moment, for them both. he’s mesmerized. which is probably why he simply nods stupid at his friend’s suggestion, though it’s a great opportunity to regain some semblance of composure.
he rises lovestruck, forcing his gaze away. this odd urge to indulge him is inescapable, and lan wangji slowly walks away, his heart in his throat and his fingers idly grazing the red ribbon around his wrist.
hide and seek, then. but is he the predator, or the prey? )
[he knows - or he's learning. relearning. relying less on the bond this time for how he feels and more on what he sees when lan wangji looks at him. he's taking his time and letting lan wangji do the same.
his heart sinks, the echo of it felt in the witch's own chest, just from watching him walk away. but should lan wangji look his way, he'll find wei wuxian already gone. the puca puts distance between them, making sure they're far apart before he stops in the middle of a crowd.
there, he closes his eyes and focus on the thrum that courses through his body. wei wuxian touches the ribbon around his own wrist and concentrates on how his bondmate is feeling and where he might be. after a moment he opens his eyes and forces himself to walk in that direction, letting his heart be his divining rod.]
( it’s surprisingly easy. maybe it’s the remnants of a bond once shared. even with his eyes closed, lan wangji feels him, a warm presence everywhere his pulse hums, like a new sense. he’s used to meditating. reaching deep in every corner of his mind, which might make this particular task seemingly effortless. but it’s more than that, a connection that transcends everything he’s ever known.
he doesn’t immediately find him, but his blood pounds hotter the closer he thinks he gets, gentle notes in the back of his skull. it’s a bit like music, a unique melody he already knows by heart, and sure enough, wei wuxian comes into sight in all his splendid glory, facing the opposite way. lan wangji stops. gasps quietly, a buzz under his skin. he walks closer, strangely unbothered by all the strangers surrounding him. and he smiles. faint, tender. a private little thing.
wei ying. he doesn’t say it, his name only resonating in his mind. and he waits. )
[he's close. wei wuxian can't explain how he knows, but it's more than just faith that lan wangji will be there when he needs him most, in their world or any other. it's a tune inside his head that starts out a lonely solo, but gradually becomes a beautiful duet the nearer he gets.
he spins, hearing his name but not realizing that it wasn't lan wangji's lips that spoke it. he breaks into a bright smile at the sight of him, and maybe just gives a happy little hop.]
Lan Zhan! It's like we're still connected by that spell I came up with all those years ago! Remember the one? The one I couldn't decide on a name for?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
it’s a risky game to play when you don’t know the stakes, and he takes a deep breath to compose himself, wondering whether he should really venture into that kind of territory. it’s a bit too late to back down now, and what’s more, there’s plenty that he doesn’t know, no need to add more confusion to his already perplexed state.
so what does he remember? lips part on a slow exhale, and... ) Colors. ( a lot of red. ) Faces. ( friends, he thinks. people he’s never seen before but know, as well as some conversations. ) The Wilde. ( ghosts. a decrepit outpost. a cave, too, with strange carvings etched into the stone. but some things are more obvious than others. impressions he can’t really explain, such as... ) Your kitchen table is filthy. ( in a way he also can’t describe, a flutter in his stomach, warmth everywhere else. he lifts his gaze and catches his, a little more adamant, despite the heat teasing his ears. ) And you wear a piece of the Gusulan ribbon around your wrist. ( namely his own, and his eyes never waver down to actually check, knowing it’s there. )
no subject
lan wangji lists, making him realize that it's fragments of memories more than anything. he can manage that - until the comment about his table, and wei wuxian nearly chokes on a chestnut.]
That-! [he points at him, flushed and speechless until he collects himself.] I won't get rid of that table, no matter what you think of it.
[maybe if lan wangji thinks that the story is literally about the table and not what happened on it, he'll deem it unimportant and drop it. but the truth of the ribbon is more difficult to avoid. and wei wuxian finds that he doesn't actually want to. he doesn't want to downplay its importance, not in the giving or what it means to him.]
You tied it around my wrist when we first arrived here, as a reminder of honoring the wishes that we made together at Cloud Recesses. It never comes off - which reminds me. [lan wangji will have to make of that what he will. just as he'll have to ponder the meaning of wei wuxian placing the bag aside and biting off a length of his own red ribbon.] I probably should've done this a long time ago, but there's really nothing special about mine. It's just a ribbon.
[he reaches for lan wangi's wrist to tie loosely around it.]
But it's mine. And now it's yours too.
[as he is. always.]
no subject
brows rise. eyes widen. the explanation makes sense, but the implications left unsaid cut his breath short. he knows, better than anyone, the significance of his headband. it’s a token of his teachings, the discipline of his clan, his own self-control. to share it with someone else is to let go, to let them in, guard lowered, heart exposed, and he thinks he actually stops breathing for a second there, blanching a little. his skin grows even paler when wei wuxian ties a red one around his own wrist, and he’s too stupefied to move, chest pounding, the pressure there clawing through his rib cage. there’s something in his throat. he can’t decide whether it’s a cry, a scream, a sigh. but he swallows past it with visible difficulty, wei wuxian’s words echoing through his mind, squeezing around his heart.
it hurts, a dull ache. it’s in his bones, in his blood. a little watery in his eyes. it chafes, and scorches, and flays. but it warms, too, and lan wangji looks at him touched beyond measure, lost in a maelstrom of sensations.
circumstances made it that wei wuxian keeps a low opinion of himself, and lan wangji shakes his head slowly, fingers brushing against the red ribbon. ) All things are trivial, until we give them meaning. ( objects are just that. nothing more, nothing else. and wei wuxian is nothing short of extraordinary.
his lips soften. his eyes, too. he breathes in once, twice. and... ) You have meaning.
no subject
he smiles at him, warm and grateful, his fingers curling around the other's wrist again. he can still share touches like this without worry, because he always did before. affection and intimacy between them didn't start with their marriage, or even their bonding.]
That belongs to you too, Lan Zhan.
[whatever meaning he has, whatever he means to him, it's all for him now. they're soulmates, bondmates, best friends. the importance of all those things hasn't been dimished in wei wuxian's eyes - if anything, they mean more to him now. he means everything, and it's the one thing wei wuxian will never forget.]
So, should we test it out? [the warmth in wei wuxian's eyes and his smile go from warm to blazing mischief with his vague suggestion.] Let's see just how strong our bond is now.
no subject
can he sense it all, frayed at the seams? lan wangji gazes into his eyes breathless, curious and searching and awed, expression open, honest. it’s almost naive, and he looks so young in his careful bashfulness, but he thinks, maybe, that what wei wuxian means to him might be clear in that moment, for them both. he’s mesmerized. which is probably why he simply nods stupid at his friend’s suggestion, though it’s a great opportunity to regain some semblance of composure.
he rises lovestruck, forcing his gaze away. this odd urge to indulge him is inescapable, and lan wangji slowly walks away, his heart in his throat and his fingers idly grazing the red ribbon around his wrist.
hide and seek, then. but is he the predator, or the prey? )
no subject
his heart sinks, the echo of it felt in the witch's own chest, just from watching him walk away. but should lan wangji look his way, he'll find wei wuxian already gone. the puca puts distance between them, making sure they're far apart before he stops in the middle of a crowd.
there, he closes his eyes and focus on the thrum that courses through his body. wei wuxian touches the ribbon around his own wrist and concentrates on how his bondmate is feeling and where he might be. after a moment he opens his eyes and forces himself to walk in that direction, letting his heart be his divining rod.]
no subject
he doesn’t immediately find him, but his blood pounds hotter the closer he thinks he gets, gentle notes in the back of his skull. it’s a bit like music, a unique melody he already knows by heart, and sure enough, wei wuxian comes into sight in all his splendid glory, facing the opposite way. lan wangji stops. gasps quietly, a buzz under his skin. he walks closer, strangely unbothered by all the strangers surrounding him. and he smiles. faint, tender. a private little thing.
wei ying. he doesn’t say it, his name only resonating in his mind. and he waits. )
no subject
he spins, hearing his name but not realizing that it wasn't lan wangji's lips that spoke it. he breaks into a bright smile at the sight of him, and maybe just gives a happy little hop.]
Lan Zhan! It's like we're still connected by that spell I came up with all those years ago! Remember the one? The one I couldn't decide on a name for?