He bows his head, as if by hiding behind his loose hair he could also hide how he has stopped breathing.

Surely Lan Zhan can feel his pulse rabbiting against his fingers. The touch is not grounding any longer -- it is overwhelming, so much for such a small, simple movement. They are too close together. It would be too easy to reach out and pull him even closer, and --

He can't. He can't.

His hands tremble, then still again. With a ragged breath, even as his mind cries out not to let go, he pulls his hands free of Lan Zhan's to take a sip of tea.