[When was the last Shi Qingxuan has been held by someone, and not in the throes of passion?
The memory flashes in his mind as soon as he wonders, the bitterness heavy in his throat as it does. His tears are no less quiet for it even as he clutches the back of Huaisang's makeshift attire. What he lets out is his disappointment, his confusion, and a bruised heart.
Has he really forgotten what it's like to be taken care of?
Thirty days and some are too long and too many hours of nursing rejection, of getting over anything. Having the young sect leader back, corporeal and very much in his arms, is too good to be true.]
You smell different.
[He hiccups out at last. It's not as he's been quick to forget what Huaisang looked like in the many months of his absence, but the scent certainly is not him.]
no subject
The memory flashes in his mind as soon as he wonders, the bitterness heavy in his throat as it does. His tears are no less quiet for it even as he clutches the back of Huaisang's makeshift attire. What he lets out is his disappointment, his confusion, and a bruised heart.
Has he really forgotten what it's like to be taken care of?
Thirty days and some are too long and too many hours of nursing rejection, of getting over anything. Having the young sect leader back, corporeal and very much in his arms, is too good to be true.]
You smell different.
[He hiccups out at last. It's not as he's been quick to forget what Huaisang looked like in the many months of his absence, but the scent certainly is not him.]