[ he is a comforting weight, a single and solid point of anchoring. for all of lan wangji's life, wei wuxian had been as though a summer bird. he had flown where it was he pleased as lan wangji watched him from the library window, wei wuxian's wide, dark wings the things of poetry. and yet, no matter how it was he read, wei wuxian had always been elusive as he had been free. and all lan wangji's heart could do was to compose soundlessly. all he could do was write his love into wordless song and hope that one day, perhaps, wei wuxian would know what it was he spoke to him. and, if given the chance—
i love you, lan wangji tells him. he tells wei wuxian in the hold of his arms, the way his fingers skim soft and aimless. have always loved you.
and yet, as the impact of his admittance strikes wei wuxian, all that leaves his lips is: ]
Yes, [ to one, to both. and: ] I am sorry, that I did not tell you earlier.
[ and despite the grip, lan wangji's arms pull closer. close enough to let wei wuxian know that he is still free, he is still free to move and to fly. and yet, lan wangji has always been an honest thing, an earnest thing. and he is here, as he noses quiet against the dark of wei wuxian's hair. and he is here, as all within tells wei wuxian that it is no jest. that it was himself, lan wangji, who had found the boy and raised them as their own.
their own, he tells himself. their own.
by now, he thinks, how he must have found lan sizhui must be apparent. by now, it must be apparent what it is lan sizhui lacks. it must be. ]
no subject
i love you, lan wangji tells him. he tells wei wuxian in the hold of his arms, the way his fingers skim soft and aimless. have always loved you.
and yet, as the impact of his admittance strikes wei wuxian, all that leaves his lips is: ]
Yes, [ to one, to both. and: ] I am sorry, that I did not tell you earlier.
[ and despite the grip, lan wangji's arms pull closer. close enough to let wei wuxian know that he is still free, he is still free to move and to fly. and yet, lan wangji has always been an honest thing, an earnest thing. and he is here, as he noses quiet against the dark of wei wuxian's hair. and he is here, as all within tells wei wuxian that it is no jest. that it was himself, lan wangji, who had found the boy and raised them as their own.
their own, he tells himself. their own.
by now, he thinks, how he must have found lan sizhui must be apparent. by now, it must be apparent what it is lan sizhui lacks. it must be. ]