[closes his eyes against the dark. he's terse and guarded, even inside his own thoughts, but making a dutiful wrenching effort to answer the question. You wish me gone.]
[Lan Wangji nearly hisses frustration and shoves him back his time; Wei Wuxian gets-- a confusing jumble of impressions, actually. deep subterranean upset and fresh-wounds over half-healed scabs and an odd moment of firelit darkness, water glittering in the distance, a dull fire in his leg, so mixed up with anger and anguish and wanting he could just bite--
it cuts off and Lan Wangji is over -----> there in their shared space, savagely still and tense]
[he is so tired and hurt himself, and he has no body of his own that he can command to at least fix what's wrong. it's like being a ghost all over again, with the added merciless aspect of eyes on him through all of it and no defense against them. Lan Wangji feels him trying to fold in over his own emotions, like a Xuanwu curling into its shell, to try and make some more distance, futilely]
[stops just out of arm's reach and rolls a fragment of memory at him, quiet
(he feels something soft settle over his head and back... Lan Wangji draped the blanket from the other night over his shoulders. with his head in his knees he could become a blanket turtle and disappear under it if he wanted, actually.
he can feel worry and confusion next to him, muted and oddly gentle.)
Lan Wangji turns away and then just. stays put there, metaphorical back to him, eyes open again and attention steadily and deliberately on the physical world; he can still feel Wei Wuxian there, of course. but.]
[there is quiet, a little longer (shocked, guilty, unhappy), and then Wei Wuxian finally comes forward again, trying to push his own grief and sorrow and anger aside. the sparks of the strange orbs under Lan Wangji return to view.]
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