Wei Ying's flute is lying on the shelf out of reach (and is not Chenqing, in any case), but it does not matter. Alarm shoots through him with the force of an arrow as the other man clenches his fists.
"Wei Ying."
Lan Wangji places his own hands over Wei Ying's wrists, holding them in a loose grasp, trying to help him focus.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2020-09-15 12:16 am (UTC)"Wei Ying."
Lan Wangji places his own hands over Wei Ying's wrists, holding them in a loose grasp, trying to help him focus.