(The warmth of Lan Xichen's touch lingers, and unthinkingly, Jin Guangyao moves his hand to cover that space on his arm.)
"Thank you." That veneer of genteel serenity renders Lan Xichen beautiful in the same way a dead bloom preserved by a snap frost in the spring is beautiful. He looks like a ghost of himself, and Jin Guangyao finds it difficult to look at him. Or to look away from him.
The compliment about the tea, at least, puts a faint smile at the corners of his lips. He dips his head slightly and says, "I will convey your compliments to Ningguang-guniang." It's as he's straightening his head that he remembers, that he realizes--
Ah. He draws in a careful breath. "Er-ge, there are other important matters we must speak of. About the Void, about," and here he self-consciously flicks his gaze up to Lan Xichen's again, and then away, "about my time here."
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"Thank you." That veneer of genteel serenity renders Lan Xichen beautiful in the same way a dead bloom preserved by a snap frost in the spring is beautiful. He looks like a ghost of himself, and Jin Guangyao finds it difficult to look at him. Or to look away from him.
The compliment about the tea, at least, puts a faint smile at the corners of his lips. He dips his head slightly and says, "I will convey your compliments to Ningguang-guniang." It's as he's straightening his head that he remembers, that he realizes--
Ah. He draws in a careful breath. "Er-ge, there are other important matters we must speak of. About the Void, about," and here he self-consciously flicks his gaze up to Lan Xichen's again, and then away, "about my time here."