What is autumn even for if not a vague air of unreality? But that is starting to be insufficient, in the face of so much. There's only so much he can not think about, and it's hardly like him, anyway. Would it be fair, even on his birthday, to ask anything of Lan Zhan? Who has certainly already done more than enough. Wei Wuxian tries to follow unspoken rules he can only extrapolate the existence of, but for whose sake, he's still unsure. It would be unseemly to question a sentiment that is noble enough to stand on its own, or draw attention to his own failing. But maybe some things were as inevitable as autumn wind, and it's less a fault than just misfortune. He tilts his head, like the weight of this is a real thing to gauge, rubs his nose half thoughtful, half sheepish.
"Only the very lucky ones, I think." Fault or not, it can't be deserved. Whatever, specifically, he has been returned to. Whether Lan Zhan is more changed than this life is different from his previous is not debatable, but only just. He twirls the bottle like that can dispel any of his overwrought feelings and drinks again, almost pointedly incautious. In a fight, it would be an invitation. He lets his voice turn querulous rather than awedly quiet. "Who knew Lan Zhan was so sentimental with verses? Or maybe this is just called being well-read. But still, how could I not be at least a little surprised?" Verses both high and rustic, yes, but also...the forbearance, the willingness to engage (without a sword), the peace. It's a shame not to have seen it come to be. "Sometimes I think you're very unpredictable even for me."
To hear that Wei Ying feels truly glad to have returned, a unique fortune even, is as intoxicating as the lingering sweet aftertaste of only the best wine. Every day since their arrival Lan Wangji has done all he could to make it so, to make it as it should be, as it should have been all along; Wei Ying content in his life. And, perhaps, content to be with him, Lan Wangji can allow himself to think in the unreality of this moment and with all the praise Wei Ying had bestowed on him earlier. It's a good thing his face is still turned towards the courtyard, to allow this smitten smile at least a little privacy.
As is his wont, Wei Ying has something to complain about even now, though it isn't the tone so much as the words that sober Lan Wangji's love-drunkenness. Of course, he should not be shocked that Wei Ying does not grasp the sentiments behind his verses, but to find him unpredictable? To find a part of him unknown... It draws his gaze like the chain of an anchor, turning to lock eyes with Wei Ying as if to better see, or be seen. He wants to ask, did he mean it as a compliment? Considering his fascination with the unknown, with paths untrodden. Is the reason not obvious, the years of separation between them not to blame? He advanced, and Wei Ying did not keep up. His confessions, just a credit to his studious nature... Only because you aren't looking, he wants to answer, and for a moment his desperation burns brightly in his eyes.
But not one of these thoughts should be said aloud. As always and quite literally, he swallows them down, will continue to keep them where they belong. To himself. Wei Ying does not need to see what he doesn't wish to see, what he has plainly never been inclined to see. With something like a sigh he turns away, though there is not a trace of harshness to his bearing nor his voice. "You shouldn't make fun. Drink your wine." With any luck, it will seem just enough like mild exasperation, as is his own wont.
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?"
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
branchandroot
(no subject)
Date: 2022-08-28 06:05 pm (UTC)"Only the very lucky ones, I think." Fault or not, it can't be deserved. Whatever, specifically, he has been returned to. Whether Lan Zhan is more changed than this life is different from his previous is not debatable, but only just. He twirls the bottle like that can dispel any of his overwrought feelings and drinks again, almost pointedly incautious. In a fight, it would be an invitation. He lets his voice turn querulous rather than awedly quiet. "Who knew Lan Zhan was so sentimental with verses? Or maybe this is just called being well-read. But still, how could I not be at least a little surprised?" Verses both high and rustic, yes, but also...the forbearance, the willingness to engage (without a sword), the peace. It's a shame not to have seen it come to be. "Sometimes I think you're very unpredictable even for me."
(no subject)
Date: 2022-10-09 11:24 pm (UTC)As is his wont, Wei Ying has something to complain about even now, though it isn't the tone so much as the words that sober Lan Wangji's love-drunkenness. Of course, he should not be shocked that Wei Ying does not grasp the sentiments behind his verses, but to find him unpredictable? To find a part of him unknown... It draws his gaze like the chain of an anchor, turning to lock eyes with Wei Ying as if to better see, or be seen. He wants to ask, did he mean it as a compliment? Considering his fascination with the unknown, with paths untrodden. Is the reason not obvious, the years of separation between them not to blame? He advanced, and Wei Ying did not keep up. His confessions, just a credit to his studious nature... Only because you aren't looking, he wants to answer, and for a moment his desperation burns brightly in his eyes.
But not one of these thoughts should be said aloud. As always and quite literally, he swallows them down, will continue to keep them where they belong. To himself. Wei Ying does not need to see what he doesn't wish to see, what he has plainly never been inclined to see. With something like a sigh he turns away, though there is not a trace of harshness to his bearing nor his voice. "You shouldn't make fun. Drink your wine." With any luck, it will seem just enough like mild exasperation, as is his own wont.
(no subject)
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?"