[ lin jingheng doesn't know what the next week is going to bring them. he doesn't know what tomorrow will bring them. but he knows he's hesitated for so long, and then spent fourteen woltorian years staring at the stars, praying for home, having regrets on follow through, on love, and praying at the altar of chance and luck. he lets out a breath and places a hand on bixing's chest, feeling the leap of his heart under his head. ]
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... Too long.