Wei Ying folds like an umbrella, curls around their joined hands in a gesture that is both unbearably vulnerable and entirely incomprehensible, and it leaves Lan Wangji stunned once again. He has just enough time for a few alarmed doubts; is Wei Ying hurting? Is he crying? Had he said something wrong? And to realize this is once again the opposite of the reaction he'd come to expect from him - to pull away, to put a barrier or distance between them - before Wei Ying groans, which does not clear up much of anything.
It's while Wei Ying does his best to explain with halting words that it finally occurs to Lan Wangji that he may not be the only one overwhelmed with thoughts and feelings and no means good enough to express them with. And so, although his unshakable faith in Wei Ying's ability to live up to who he knows him to be trembles on his lips, he stays silent, and just listens.
As in a familiar dream, he sees himself run a comforting hand through Wei Ying's hair, entangle his fingers with a few askew strands and that red ribbon. But his hands are pinned and he could not bear to disturb him by moving. He sees himself bend down to press a kiss to the crown of Wei Ying's head, bow his own head in observance of all the love and grief he'd had nowhere to place for sixteen years. But he was asked to have mercy.
And so, although his eyes are brimming with all this affection and gratitude, all his forgiveness and apology and his wish to have this embrace never end, there's a smile in his voice when he says mildly, "No sitting improperly."
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It's while Wei Ying does his best to explain with halting words that it finally occurs to Lan Wangji that he may not be the only one overwhelmed with thoughts and feelings and no means good enough to express them with. And so, although his unshakable faith in Wei Ying's ability to live up to who he knows him to be trembles on his lips, he stays silent, and just listens.
As in a familiar dream, he sees himself run a comforting hand through Wei Ying's hair, entangle his fingers with a few askew strands and that red ribbon. But his hands are pinned and he could not bear to disturb him by moving. He sees himself bend down to press a kiss to the crown of Wei Ying's head, bow his own head in observance of all the love and grief he'd had nowhere to place for sixteen years. But he was asked to have mercy.
And so, although his eyes are brimming with all this affection and gratitude, all his forgiveness and apology and his wish to have this embrace never end, there's a smile in his voice when he says mildly, "No sitting improperly."