Lan Wangji clears away the small table with its tea service to stand by the door, extinguishes the incense burner, and puts out the lantern over the low table. The one at the foot of the bed he leaves lit, for now.
All the while, he orders his pulse and breathing to steady and demands of himself that he remain composed. Wei Ying has been through enough stress for one evening.
He returns to the bed, makes sure the coverlet is spread over Wei Ying, then lies down beside him.
"Come here," he says, glad of the moment to compose himself, praying his voice will not tremble and betray him. "Lay your head on my shoulder. You will be comfortable, and able to hear, both."
no subject
Lan Wangji clears away the small table with its tea service to stand by the door, extinguishes the incense burner, and puts out the lantern over the low table. The one at the foot of the bed he leaves lit, for now.
All the while, he orders his pulse and breathing to steady and demands of himself that he remain composed. Wei Ying has been through enough stress for one evening.
He returns to the bed, makes sure the coverlet is spread over Wei Ying, then lies down beside him.
"Come here," he says, glad of the moment to compose himself, praying his voice will not tremble and betray him. "Lay your head on my shoulder. You will be comfortable, and able to hear, both."
Which is true. Lying is forbidden.