He rouses himself from the window, pulls up a small smile for Lan Zhan, and rises to join him at the table. His legs feel a little wobbly, his limbs a little too heavy now that he's asking them to move; it's probably just because he's still tired, he thinks. Or because he needs the breakfast Lan Zhan's provided worse than he thought.
As usual, he smothers his congee in enough chili oil to leave him practically breathing fire, and digs in without a flinch. After a few moments he adds one of the steamed buns to his plate -- red bean paste, he discovers when he bites into it. Perfect.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2020-09-14 02:03 am (UTC)As usual, he smothers his congee in enough chili oil to leave him practically breathing fire, and digs in without a flinch. After a few moments he adds one of the steamed buns to his plate -- red bean paste, he discovers when he bites into it. Perfect.