[ world cold and hard lin jingheng...also kind of cold and hard....
actually he's just soft and tender and exactly what lu bixing needs. he finally takes another puff of the smoke since jingheng did, too, still a little jittery about it but needing to take the edge off just as badly. inhale, and exhale. ]
...I did. [ ... he turns his face a little bit. ] She's had a hard time. It doesn't excuse anything, but it's been hard. I don't know. I hope I helped her a little.
You do what you can. You live with what you can't.
[ and you learn from that. but he knows. he knows that if lu bixing had it his way, they wouldn't be in this situation at all. some would say it's the cruelty of fate or destiny or whatever the kids believe in these days, but jingheng will just say it's bullshit manufactured by someone else.
[ it's good advice - the words stick and resonate, especially because it's coming from lin. fate, cruelty, destiny. those are the things they've always dealt in, right?
he takes in a deep breath. inhale, exhale. ]
Sometimes. [ not always. ] I try to. That's all I can do.
[ the breathing is good. so he breathes with him, deeply, in and out. some bullshit about counts he remembers, zhanlu counting backwards in his head. he closes his eyes.
unspoken: i trust you.
his voice is soft, honest: ]
Some of them need that particular... warmth that you provide. [ meeting his eyes ]
But don't set yourself on fire.
You don't have to anymore.
[ a hand slipping down to where he knows there are trackmarks. he holds them gently, strokes with his thumb. i'm here. ]
[ i meant to backtag this forever ago because it was important so im coming back to it today
that is to say. when lin's hand touches his arm, for the first time lu bixing obviously flinches like he's going to move away. guilt rises up in his stomach, a gnarled pit of shame. he would hate you if he knew all the things you'd done. something says, in the back of his mind. he'd hate you.
lu bixing swallows. not set himself on fire, huh? ]
...yeah. [ he says, quietly, and doesn't specify. ] I know.
he holds faster to him, despite the flinching, because it's too late, because he has every intention of not letting go of him. his face remains unreadable save for the faint flicker in his eyes. he doesn't hate him. he could never bring himself to.
[ he definitely winces, this time, at that flicker - golden eyes drifting away from him, down to the ground, the muscle in his arm flexing and tensing.
... softly, again, though it's got a little more strength to it, lu bixing repeats himself. he's trying to summon it up, but its hard, in the face of everything. in the face of the way lin is looking at him, at how badly he wants to run away.
[ he reaches forward and takes his chin in his fingers, tilting his head up just a bit more. ]
One last time.
[ he believes him, but he knows that he will have to bolster it just as well, lingers closer, letting his other hand move so that he can hold his face in both hands. his thumb strokes slowly over his cheek, eyes soft. ]
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actually he's just soft and tender and exactly what lu bixing needs. he finally takes another puff of the smoke since jingheng did, too, still a little jittery about it but needing to take the edge off just as badly. inhale, and exhale. ]
...I did. [ ... he turns his face a little bit. ] She's had a hard time. It doesn't excuse anything, but it's been hard. I don't know. I hope I helped her a little.
no subject
[ and you learn from that. but he knows. he knows that if lu bixing had it his way, they wouldn't be in this situation at all. some would say it's the cruelty of fate or destiny or whatever the kids believe in these days, but jingheng will just say it's bullshit manufactured by someone else.
he doesn't move, remains still and steady. ]
I hope you did too.
... You understand them in ways most don't.
no subject
he takes in a deep breath. inhale, exhale. ]
Sometimes. [ not always. ] I try to. That's all I can do.
no subject
[ the breathing is good. so he breathes with him, deeply, in and out. some bullshit about counts he remembers, zhanlu counting backwards in his head. he closes his eyes.
unspoken: i trust you.
his voice is soft, honest: ]
Some of them need that particular... warmth that you provide. [ meeting his eyes ]
But don't set yourself on fire.
You don't have to anymore.
[ a hand slipping down to where he knows there are trackmarks. he holds them gently, strokes with his thumb. i'm here. ]
no subject
that is to say. when lin's hand touches his arm, for the first time lu bixing obviously flinches like he's going to move away. guilt rises up in his stomach, a gnarled pit of shame. he would hate you if he knew all the things you'd done. something says, in the back of his mind. he'd hate you.
lu bixing swallows. not set himself on fire, huh? ]
...yeah. [ he says, quietly, and doesn't specify. ] I know.
no subject
[ at all.
he holds faster to him, despite the flinching, because it's too late, because he has every intention of not letting go of him. his face remains unreadable save for the faint flicker in his eyes. he doesn't hate him. he could never bring himself to.
it's too late.]
Again.
no subject
... softly, again, though it's got a little more strength to it, lu bixing repeats himself. he's trying to summon it up, but its hard, in the face of everything. in the face of the way lin is looking at him, at how badly he wants to run away.
he tries, though. ] I know, Lin.
no subject
One last time.
[ he believes him, but he knows that he will have to bolster it just as well, lingers closer, letting his other hand move so that he can hold his face in both hands. his thumb strokes slowly over his cheek, eyes soft. ]
Okay?