[he is not really hurting in a way that bites at him any more, not even with sympathetic pain. he's balanced himself, as he always does, his habitual gravity swinging the pendulum of his distress back to that steady core. perspective aches but doesn't hurt to have, in the end.

...

he cups Wei Wuxian's face in both hands again and leans their foreheads together. Magolor does this to him whenever he's upset, he thinks.

then he moves one hand further, presses his fingers over Wei Wuxian's mouth. don't speak. don't reply to what I will say.

softly]

Wei Ying. Your recklessness angered me in Jiangling.

You seemed to heal slowly.