[ thankfully, maybe, he's like a child in jingheng's grasp. it reminds him like an echo of a time forever ago, when someone held him when he wanted to die and reminded him there was more to the world than just pain. and just like the gun was dropped out of his trembling hands then, he doesn't even stop jingheng, now. he lets him kick away the cup. he lets him take the one in his shaking hand, now.
he buries his facein jingheng's shoulder, and thinks, hysterically, i don't want you to, for the first time in his life. shame curls up in his chest like a deadweight, and the two sides of him war at themselves, the one who wants to cling to jingheng like a child and the one who wants to run away. his fingers curl in the back of his jacket.
he hiccups, again, and shakes his head, and buries it in his shoulder, uselessly, and mumbles: ] I'm sorry.
[ it's a little distant, but he might be sorry for today, or he might be sorry for the fact that he's like this, or he might be sorry for the fact that jingheng had to see it. he still thinks, sometimes he might hate him, hate the way he learned how to cope - to either not feel at all or to drown it, like this, into research, into sleeping pills, into hurting himself to feel okay. ]
If you're sorry for drinking so much and smelling like a skunk, save your breath...
[ he is just like a child in his arms, and he bullies him into the corner until he's barely visible save maybe whatever curls peek up over his shoulder. he holds him tightly, nuzzling into his hair. the ache is here, has his heart in a vise, and he clutches lu bixing back, closing his eyes. they have lost and they have lost and lost even more.
lu bixing has already lost so much, why should there be more? (lin jingheng does not think about his own loss, he sees himself as someone who should be numb to it all, even as his chest aches.) his hand slides upwards to slowly stroke his cheek, to thumb gently underneath his eyes again and again until finally he pulls his head back, tries to tip his chin upwards. ]
[ help. he probably does smell like a skunk. he is pathetic. skrunkly. a pathetic little wet dog left out in the rain. he takes a breath, shaky, shuddering - it feels stupid. it feels like he's going to throw up, from crying, from drinking, from shame, from the weight of the past seventeen years of his life, from sending tuuri to her death, from losing kon, from the trauma of sacrifice and how it weighs so, so hard on his shoulders.
he's letting himself loose in those thoughts, letting them carry him away, down into a spiral, but lin jingheng pulls him back. he always does. his attention is scattered and miserable, but when lin jingheng asks, he doesn't hesitate.
his head tips a little into his hand, into the one on his cheek, but he slowly lifts his head to look up at him through his thick lashes, eyes wet, face flushed, perfectly coiffed curls a fucking mess, dark circles under his eyes. he still looks. ]
[ he settles, sits with their legs tangled. he paws at the tabletop after untangling a hand from their mess and taps it briefly. a drink slides down, brushing his fingers, and he pulls it into their tangle, taking a long drink from it, the bobbing of his throat apparent as he takes the drink he's wanted since he left trial and tosses the cup unceremoniously away. ]
Now... mourn however you want, but this? It isn't eternity.
the i love you does everything, really. well - more than anything, it makes him start to cry again, the tears bubbling up at his remaining eye and dripping down his cheek, pathetically and uselessly. he just feels - love, of course, warm and heavy in his heart, but there's shame, too. he knows. of course he knows. ]
... I condemened her, Lin. [ whether it's not eternity or otherwise. ] She was terrified, and there was more to the story, and I - I should have kept my mouth shut.
[ lu bixing crying against his shoulder has him curving all the more protectively around him. his own chest is tight and heavy, but all he wants to do is just this. this is where he feels he can be useful, he can be strong. he heard eveyrthing and at this point, he knows what he needs to do. ]
We were running out of time... I'm not saying it's right. And I'm not saying it's fair.
But it was bound to happen. And whoever did this went to great lengths to make sure they weren't found out. We are fallible... and we will continue to fail as often as we win. [ that's the world ] Remember what I said.
he always does. he's someone who minds his words, who sometimes doesn't speak a lot, but to bixing, every single word out of lin jingheng's mouth is precious, because they're so valuable. this is one of those cases - where he feels his heart ache in all the pieces that it's been broken, and he makes a soft, muffled noise and turns his face up to look up at him. his eye is red and wet, the dark circles underneath it miserable, perfect curls destroyed, but he sniffles and nods, and tries to pull himself together.
they won't be kept.
he curls his fingers tight in lin jingheng's shirt, and after a long moment of silence, whispers his response - because he didn't say it back. ] I love you too. [ and slowly, slowly, some of the tension goes out of his shoulders. he just goes boneless, and lets lin jingheng take care of him. ]
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no subject
he buries his facein jingheng's shoulder, and thinks, hysterically, i don't want you to, for the first time in his life. shame curls up in his chest like a deadweight, and the two sides of him war at themselves, the one who wants to cling to jingheng like a child and the one who wants to run away. his fingers curl in the back of his jacket.
he hiccups, again, and shakes his head, and buries it in his shoulder, uselessly, and mumbles: ] I'm sorry.
[ it's a little distant, but he might be sorry for today, or he might be sorry for the fact that he's like this, or he might be sorry for the fact that jingheng had to see it. he still thinks, sometimes he might hate him, hate the way he learned how to cope - to either not feel at all or to drown it, like this, into research, into sleeping pills, into hurting himself to feel okay. ]
no subject
[ he is just like a child in his arms, and he bullies him into the corner until he's barely visible save maybe whatever curls peek up over his shoulder. he holds him tightly, nuzzling into his hair. the ache is here, has his heart in a vise, and he clutches lu bixing back, closing his eyes. they have lost and they have lost and lost even more.
lu bixing has already lost so much, why should there be more? (lin jingheng does not think about his own loss, he sees himself as someone who should be numb to it all, even as his chest aches.) his hand slides upwards to slowly stroke his cheek, to thumb gently underneath his eyes again and again until finally he pulls his head back, tries to tip his chin upwards. ]
Look at me, Lu Bixing.
no subject
he's letting himself loose in those thoughts, letting them carry him away, down into a spiral, but lin jingheng pulls him back. he always does. his attention is scattered and miserable, but when lin jingheng asks, he doesn't hesitate.
his head tips a little into his hand, into the one on his cheek, but he slowly lifts his head to look up at him through his thick lashes, eyes wet, face flushed, perfectly coiffed curls a fucking mess, dark circles under his eyes. he still looks. ]
no subject
[ he settles, sits with their legs tangled. he paws at the tabletop after untangling a hand from their mess and taps it briefly. a drink slides down, brushing his fingers, and he pulls it into their tangle, taking a long drink from it, the bobbing of his throat apparent as he takes the drink he's wanted since he left trial and tosses the cup unceremoniously away. ]
Now... mourn however you want, but this? It isn't eternity.
no subject
the i love you does everything, really. well - more than anything, it makes him start to cry again, the tears bubbling up at his remaining eye and dripping down his cheek, pathetically and uselessly. he just feels - love, of course, warm and heavy in his heart, but there's shame, too. he knows. of course he knows. ]
... I condemened her, Lin. [ whether it's not eternity or otherwise. ] She was terrified, and there was more to the story, and I - I should have kept my mouth shut.
no subject
[ lu bixing crying against his shoulder has him curving all the more protectively around him. his own chest is tight and heavy, but all he wants to do is just this. this is where he feels he can be useful, he can be strong. he heard eveyrthing and at this point, he knows what he needs to do. ]
We were running out of time... I'm not saying it's right. And I'm not saying it's fair.
But it was bound to happen. And whoever did this went to great lengths to make sure they weren't found out. We are fallible... and we will continue to fail as often as we win. [ that's the world ] Remember what I said.
[ they won't be kept. ]
no subject
he always does. he's someone who minds his words, who sometimes doesn't speak a lot, but to bixing, every single word out of lin jingheng's mouth is precious, because they're so valuable. this is one of those cases - where he feels his heart ache in all the pieces that it's been broken, and he makes a soft, muffled noise and turns his face up to look up at him. his eye is red and wet, the dark circles underneath it miserable, perfect curls destroyed, but he sniffles and nods, and tries to pull himself together.
they won't be kept.
he curls his fingers tight in lin jingheng's shirt, and after a long moment of silence, whispers his response - because he didn't say it back. ] I love you too. [ and slowly, slowly, some of the tension goes out of his shoulders. he just goes boneless, and lets lin jingheng take care of him. ]