this is just... it's so much. this entire day has been so much. he's set them up in the home biome for some familiarity, lu bixing's bad ankle propped up on a pillow, wrapped with some good compression to keep the swelling down, and is currently being iced a bit for the pain. medication has been dispensed, and lin jingheng is now just. sitting beside him on their bed with soft pillows bunched up with care behind his back and on his sides like a little throne of comfort.
his dislocated shoulder has been thrust back in (unhappily so), and his BROKEN RIBS have been wrapped carefully for support and are currently just. being iced. poor thing. jingheng hasn't left his sight, just keeps close, and when he leaves for a moment, it's always in view, or with the door open. he hasn't left the home biome, and instead just. hovers around him. anxiously.
here in the moment, he's holding his hand, the panic welling in his stomach like a sickness. he feels so fucking sick with anxiety. so he just holds lu bixing's hand, threads their fingers and presses the back of his knuckles to his mouth.
he doesn't say anything right now, his eyes gazing towards a wall, thumb stroking along his. a cigarette glows bright orange in the dim light, ash falling into a small paper ashtray balanced on his thigh. he's been conserving his cigarettes lately, but he breaks out one of the remaining packs tonight. there are three others smoked down to the filter, a fourth on the way. ]
W6, THURSDAY OF JUST [CLIMBS THROUGH SCREEN TO SHOOT YOU]
this is just... it's so much. this entire day has been so much. he's set them up in the home biome for some familiarity, lu bixing's bad ankle propped up on a pillow, wrapped with some good compression to keep the swelling down, and is currently being iced a bit for the pain. medication has been dispensed, and lin jingheng is now just. sitting beside him on their bed with soft pillows bunched up with care behind his back and on his sides like a little throne of comfort.
his dislocated shoulder has been thrust back in (unhappily so), and his BROKEN RIBS have been wrapped carefully for support and are currently just. being iced. poor thing. jingheng hasn't left his sight, just keeps close, and when he leaves for a moment, it's always in view, or with the door open. he hasn't left the home biome, and instead just. hovers around him. anxiously.
here in the moment, he's holding his hand, the panic welling in his stomach like a sickness. he feels so fucking sick with anxiety. so he just holds lu bixing's hand, threads their fingers and presses the back of his knuckles to his mouth.
he doesn't say anything right now, his eyes gazing towards a wall, thumb stroking along his. a cigarette glows bright orange in the dim light, ash falling into a small paper ashtray balanced on his thigh. he's been conserving his cigarettes lately, but he breaks out one of the remaining packs tonight. there are three others smoked down to the filter, a fourth on the way. ]