It's just as well these thoughts aren't being said aloud, because Wei Wuxian wouldn't know if he should feel offended at being accused of not looking or ashamed at having to refute it. Who could blame him for thinking this way? Even if he's the highest ranking Lan Zhan scholar, it's at least somewhat because no one else is in the running. He's certainly looking back now, anyway, though with familiar, searching incomprehension only, no matter how hair-raisingly intent Lan Zhan can be. Who are the careful distances for, again, exactly. He isn't sure what elucidation he'd been trying to tease out in the first place; it's not like Lan Zhan is going to hurry to deny his unpredictable sentiments, or draw him a roadmap.
He shouldn't press his luck, anyway. But it is his birthday, and he did mean it as a compliment, at least with all the parts of his mind not currently meaning it as a challenge, as a feint. With Lan Zhan letting him out from under the pin of whatever that look had been, he is free to retreat to familiar ground, pouting into his wine instead of following instructions and positively aggrieved with the injustice of it all.
"Who's making fun? What kind of gratitude would that be, after all this? Lan Zhan should be as sentimental or as unpredictable as he likes. It's-- good. To see." The performance runs a little aground, and he has the rare feeling of a too thin face, or perhaps too much sun. "You can't say I'm making fun, when have I ever?"
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branchandroot
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Date: 2022-11-27 12:51 am (UTC)Who are the careful distances for, again, exactly.He isn't sure what elucidation he'd been trying to tease out in the first place; it's not like Lan Zhan is going to hurry to deny his unpredictable sentiments, or draw him a roadmap.He shouldn't press his luck, anyway. But it is his birthday, and he did mean it as a compliment, at least with all the parts of his mind not currently meaning it as a challenge, as a feint. With Lan Zhan letting him out from under the pin of whatever that look had been, he is free to retreat to familiar ground, pouting into his wine instead of following instructions and positively aggrieved with the injustice of it all.
"Who's making fun? What kind of gratitude would that be, after all this? Lan Zhan should be as sentimental or as unpredictable as he likes. It's-- good. To see." The performance runs a little aground, and he has the rare feeling of a too thin face, or perhaps too much sun. "You can't say I'm making fun, when have I ever?"