[ ding ding ding here comes the deda announcement as they are waking up in the tentacle bar. there's a lighter flicking on, and then a cigarette being lit almost immediately within a few seconds of the announcement's aftermath. ]
I'm done playing games.
[ he's really going to have to do this on a fucking saturday. this bullshit. that's his sonion. ]
[ every name hurts. last week, it was lu bixing who was especially affected - this week, he liked cosmos, and there's always something brutal and heartbreaking about the loss of a life like that. for lu bixing, it feels too famiiar.
his heart breaks the most right now for lin, though, because as soon as he reads the message, his head whips up to lin, eyes wide, mouth a little open, before it all collapses down into something softer, the pull of his mouth dropping into the curve of misery, though he tamps it down. ]
... Lin. [ he says, voice quiet, and very gently puts a hand on the back of his shoulder, then stays.
... ]
...mm. Aquarium, it looks like. [ from the second picture. a little more businesslike, the prime minister's voice. ] We can find out where everyone was sleeping tonight, too.
[ he doesn't move when the hand lands on his back at first, but eventually he hunches just a bit, sinking into the touch just a bit. ]
... Bixing.
[ softly, just for him. ]
Start with the location in the photograph. Like we always do. The theatre too... Cosmos was there with Lavi and Tuuri. [ and honestly part of him realizes that he should check in on the both of them just to make sure that they're alright after waking up to someone so close gone.
it's only when the others have gotten up to leave - when it's just the two of them, sitting in this bizarre little bar with the tentacle, lu bixing shifts a little where he's sitting, and lifts his good arm to wrap it around lin jingheng when he drops into his shoulder like that, hooking it tight. he can be the sunshine. he can be the warmth, the steadiness. the fire burning to keep the others warm.
...besides. he can't say he's all that surprised. (after all, lu bixing remembers being like cosmos, once. he remembers learning the world, and how - if anyone had ever tried to kill him, if he hadn't been under monoeye's watchful gaze, it would have been easy.)
he'd never say that, though. especially not because he loves - loves that lin cares so much, and knows intimately how bad he's hurting, and, the empathy of the hurt makes his heart ache. he squeezes his arm around his shoulder and focuses on the smell of cigarette smoke to anchor himself, and then when everyone's gone, kisses the top of his head and lingers there. ]
I think that's a good plan. [ gentle. ] ...I'm sorry, Lin.
[ oh he goes still as lu bixing kisses the top of his head. "sorry" is not a word he attributes with loss, if only because he has never heard it used in such context ever. everything he has ever lost, everything that has ever been robbed from him, and never once was anyone sorry for a death. all it's done is harden him really.
the first time he'd heard it was maybe a week ago in that particular way. it felt funny. it feels funny now, but all he does is remain silent for a stretch longer. the feeling of being left alone in the bar is enough. he stretches out his legs and lets his arm loop around lu bixing's waist, linking them together. ]
He was keeping a journal to remember Eto.
Wanted to write a book about it. [ it's so funny i hate this i hate this so much. ]
[ that doesn't surprise him, somehow. cosmos was a good kid, and - the familiarity in the way he soaks up the world makes lu bixing's heart ache. he would've done the same thing, back when he only had the senses of a computer. he did - he took journals on everything he saw on cayley and then some.
he lets lin move however he wants, and keeps his arm tight around his shoulders, squeezing a little more as he speaks. his own voice is soft, just a little urging, as he finally reaches over and very gently hooks his free hand underneath lin jingheng's chin to get him to look him in the eye. ]
...You helped him, you know, right? Last week, and every week up until now. You must have helped him, Lin.
[ his chin rests a little heavy on the hand that lifts it. his head is heavy, he's tired. a forced sleep doesn't feel restful, tossing and turning with thoughts that make his stomach churn. it's a low blow, too easy a hit. he looks lu bixing in the eye and his brow seems to unknit just a bit more, though his eyes eventually wander somewhere over his shoulder, and slowly he shifts to try and straighten up again—
but he just sinks back again. summoning the will doesn't come to him in the moment. ]
[ no. absolutely not. no. in fact, his grip doesn't quite tighten, but he doesn't let go, and the second lin jingheng looks away from him, lu bixing ducks into his line of vision again. ]
Yes, I do.
[ it's insistently said, and leaves no room for argument. ] You would have helped me, if I were in his shoes. You have helped me. Even - even since we've gotten here, Lin, you've helped me.
[ when he was in his grief, in his misery - when they were both missteppig left and right trying to remember a dance that they used to know by heart. lin jingheng has been the one to help rebuild lu bixing, bit by bit, to help say all the right things, to bring his broken pieces back together, bit by bit. that means something, and he won't let lin think for a second that he hasn't done that for the people around him besides lu bixing, too. ]
I won't stop until you believe me, and I'll know if you're lying. Maybe you don't recognize how much you do for other people, but I do.
[ lu bixing is as annoying as a little flea, but about as sweet as honey, and lin jingheng can't help but let his gaze flick towards him as he tries to meet his eyes. has he helped anyone? he certainly doesn't feel it, and even as they hold hands here, hardly space between them, lin jingheng believes he is floating aimlessly here in this place that he was sure he'd be at the end of it all.
he always thought hell wouldn't keep him, but as it turns out, it's just been waiting. hasn't it.
even if there, at the center of it all, is paradise in the form of one person who says too many kind things to him. his brow furrows and he lifts his hands to gently place them on lu bixing's wrists, not to wrench him away, but just to hold. ]
I've done nothing unless I can get us out of here.
[ every week their pool narrows. ]
If I need to drink the Devil down then I'll do it.
[ his fingers tighten. but i can't do it without you. ]
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wk 2, friday
I'm done playing games.
[ he's really going to have to do this on a fucking saturday. this bullshit. that's his sonion. ]
no subject
his heart breaks the most right now for lin, though, because as soon as he reads the message, his head whips up to lin, eyes wide, mouth a little open, before it all collapses down into something softer, the pull of his mouth dropping into the curve of misery, though he tamps it down. ]
... Lin. [ he says, voice quiet, and very gently puts a hand on the back of his shoulder, then stays.
... ]
...mm. Aquarium, it looks like. [ from the second picture. a little more businesslike, the prime minister's voice. ] We can find out where everyone was sleeping tonight, too.
no subject
... Bixing.
[ softly, just for him. ]
Start with the location in the photograph. Like we always do. The theatre too... Cosmos was there with Lavi and Tuuri. [ and honestly part of him realizes that he should check in on the both of them just to make sure that they're alright after waking up to someone so close gone.
he starts to smoke and then just
leans onto lu bixing with a big tired flop. ]
no subject
it's only when the others have gotten up to leave - when it's just the two of them, sitting in this bizarre little bar with the tentacle, lu bixing shifts a little where he's sitting, and lifts his good arm to wrap it around lin jingheng when he drops into his shoulder like that, hooking it tight. he can be the sunshine. he can be the warmth, the steadiness. the fire burning to keep the others warm.
...besides. he can't say he's all that surprised. (after all, lu bixing remembers being like cosmos, once. he remembers learning the world, and how - if anyone had ever tried to kill him, if he hadn't been under monoeye's watchful gaze, it would have been easy.)
he'd never say that, though. especially not because he loves - loves that lin cares so much, and knows intimately how bad he's hurting, and, the empathy of the hurt makes his heart ache. he squeezes his arm around his shoulder and focuses on the smell of cigarette smoke to anchor himself, and then when everyone's gone, kisses the top of his head and lingers there. ]
I think that's a good plan. [ gentle. ] ...I'm sorry, Lin.
no subject
the first time he'd heard it was maybe a week ago in that particular way. it felt funny. it feels funny now, but all he does is remain silent for a stretch longer. the feeling of being left alone in the bar is enough. he stretches out his legs and lets his arm loop around lu bixing's waist, linking them together. ]
He was keeping a journal to remember Eto.
Wanted to write a book about it. [ it's so funny i hate this i hate this so much. ]
no subject
[ that doesn't surprise him, somehow. cosmos was a good kid, and - the familiarity in the way he soaks up the world makes lu bixing's heart ache. he would've done the same thing, back when he only had the senses of a computer. he did - he took journals on everything he saw on cayley and then some.
he lets lin move however he wants, and keeps his arm tight around his shoulders, squeezing a little more as he speaks. his own voice is soft, just a little urging, as he finally reaches over and very gently hooks his free hand underneath lin jingheng's chin to get him to look him in the eye. ]
...You helped him, you know, right? Last week, and every week up until now. You must have helped him, Lin.
no subject
[ a frown. ]
You don't know that.
[ his chin rests a little heavy on the hand that lifts it. his head is heavy, he's tired. a forced sleep doesn't feel restful, tossing and turning with thoughts that make his stomach churn. it's a low blow, too easy a hit. he looks lu bixing in the eye and his brow seems to unknit just a bit more, though his eyes eventually wander somewhere over his shoulder, and slowly he shifts to try and straighten up again—
but he just sinks back again. summoning the will doesn't come to him in the moment. ]
no subject
Yes, I do.
[ it's insistently said, and leaves no room for argument. ] You would have helped me, if I were in his shoes. You have helped me. Even - even since we've gotten here, Lin, you've helped me.
[ when he was in his grief, in his misery - when they were both missteppig left and right trying to remember a dance that they used to know by heart. lin jingheng has been the one to help rebuild lu bixing, bit by bit, to help say all the right things, to bring his broken pieces back together, bit by bit. that means something, and he won't let lin think for a second that he hasn't done that for the people around him besides lu bixing, too. ]
I won't stop until you believe me, and I'll know if you're lying. Maybe you don't recognize how much you do for other people, but I do.
no subject
he always thought hell wouldn't keep him, but as it turns out, it's just been waiting. hasn't it.
even if there, at the center of it all, is paradise in the form of one person who says too many kind things to him. his brow furrows and he lifts his hands to gently place them on lu bixing's wrists, not to wrench him away, but just to hold. ]
I've done nothing unless I can get us out of here.
[ every week their pool narrows. ]
If I need to drink the Devil down then I'll do it.
[ his fingers tighten. but i can't do it without you. ]