23 May 2021
Wei Ying's back is to him, but Lan Zhan would know him anywhere. His hair is tied into a low ponytail, messy, as always. It's longer now than it was three years ago, snaking down his back, ending just above his shoulder blades. With him is a child—a boy—who's holding onto his hand and looking up at him with his eyebrows furrowed, one finger stuck in his mouth.
Lan Zhan feels utterly foolish peeking from behind a display case at them, but he's rooted to the spot. He cannot move.
Bookmarked by gerasimi
24 May 2021