[ Runyu listens to the explanation given, a small huff escaping him at Xingchen’s gentle warning, but remains silent, his eyes already drawn to the flow of energy from Xingchen’s hands.
Runyu doesn’t recognize the flower created. Most of the flowers in his dreams are but impressions of colors more than actual shapes, and it had taken him numerous attempts of painting them with the cabin to create the landscape that had pulled Xingchen and himself together. But he can hardly miss the detail with which his friend has crafted the hyacinth before his very eyes. The slow yet steady process brings to mind another time, of his own slow routine of caring for the night cereus so long ago. Of the satisfaction that filled him of coming closer to fulfilling a wish. He reaches out, tempted to feel the small star-shaped petals, but stops himself.
The reason for that hesitation is unclear.
Being underserving of the gift or a reluctance to harm it.
He glances back over to Xingchen and then away, wondering if the more complex spell will hold if his friend attempts to send it away.
A lump catches in his throat and he rises from his seat, hesitating again before waving his hand, a tall pottery pot with earth appearing at their side.
That same hand quickly flips behind his back afterwards as he speaks. ]
This one is taller. It would be a waste of your effort if it failed on the journey to the flowerbed. This way, that won’t happen.
[ Runyu is turned aside, not quite looking at Xingchen, not quite moving away. ]
( when tentative fingertips reach out for the flower blooming, xingchen carefully fails to take visible notice - fails to draw attention to it, in case runyu might actually allow himself to touch it.
no such luck, of course. instead, the hand gives a wave as if that was the reason it hovered all along, and there on the ground beside them appears a lovely flowerpot. 'it would be a waste of your effort if it failed on the journey to the flowerbed,' runyu is saying, but xingchen only halfway hears it. the hyacinth has even paused (if only briefly) in its blooming as he looks at this flowerpot summoned so considerately from the ether, a smile both wondering and deeply amused blooming instead at the edges of his lips.
but if runyu wonders why, he won't be left wondering for long: soon xingchen lifts his gaze back to his dear sweet flowerpot-manifesting companion, lips pressing together a moment to swallow back as much mirth as he possibly can, then: ) You've put soil in it. ( oh, but he sounds so terribly endeared, and it's just a second or two more before his composure cracks in an exhaled laugh-breath, leaving behind a bright and largely involuntary little grin (which he would certainly cover with a hand if he had one to spare, but alas, he does not). ) Runyu, I've made it from qi. It doesn't even have roots. What could it possibly want with soil?
[ Runyu starts, opening his mouth to explain away his obvious mistake, and yet closes his mouth, covering it a moment later to hide a faint blush to his chilled cheeks. He’s never done something so ridiculous as this before. And Xingchen’s laughing. He should be mad or at least indignant — he can’t allow such a jest to pass — but the smile and laughter coming from his companion disarm him of the ability to argue. The gentle peels don’t seem scornful or mocking but express a warmth that reminds Runyu of another’s long, long ago. One almost forgotten.
Xufeng.
The brother he betrayed completely and who forgave him and invited him in his house. But even if their bond had somehow survived, their relationship has changed. Runyu rarely lingers at his home. He comes and goes. His brother is finally free. And as the one who caused much of the anguish he had gone through, Runyu can not tarry in his simple, peaceful abode.
Hearing something similar now, in his realm, is unheard of.
He doesn’t know how to respond. Forming words in face of such goodness is hard enough, let alone combatting his amusement with reasoning.
And yet… he tries. ]
I only tended to one. I-I didn’t know these wouldn’t need such things.
( if warmth disarms runyu, then he'll unfortunately find that he's disarmed more often than not, so long as he hosts xingchen here in this realm. because lo and behold, both the blush rising on runyu's cheeks and the fumbled attempt at self-defense make him all the more endearing still, though xingchen does urge the hyacinth between his hands to continue its blooming in case that manages to divert enough attention to spare runyu any further chagrin. )
You only recall tending to one, ( he corrects, still fairly light in tone but no longer properly teasing. ) In truth, you've cared for quite a number of them. ( though it seems benign enough not to cross into that which runyu would prefer not to talk about just yet, xingchen's gaze remains focused on the flower as he speaks. it's nearly done, just a few buds left to bloom, and paying attention to that gives runyu the option to sidestep it altogether without the unintended pressure of xingchen's gaze. )
[ Runyu opens his mouth to respond again before halting as Xingchen continues to coax life or form from the spelled flower. He is both loathe to let his petty argument ruin the moment as well as compelled to silence by the little detail offered him . It’s a a strange, wondrous belief that he would have the heart to touch another flower after destroying the brightest flower in his life.
But it is an idea that is too far away to consider now.
He lets out a breath. ]
Perhaps in another realm where I haven’t committed such grave sins I could, but even if the fairies were to return them here, I don’t deserve to be the caretaker of another such weak, fragile beauty.
[ Runyu glances away, back to the dark silent sky that has kept him company for so many eternities, as if speaking of this sin, even indirectly, has awoken the pain of the events. To be honest, it hasn't. There's nothing to awake when it's never truly faded. When it remains as a fated weariness inside him even now. ]
They're safer letting the spirits of the elements take that task for them.
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Runyu doesn’t recognize the flower created. Most of the flowers in his dreams are but impressions of colors more than actual shapes, and it had taken him numerous attempts of painting them with the cabin to create the landscape that had pulled Xingchen and himself together. But he can hardly miss the detail with which his friend has crafted the hyacinth before his very eyes. The slow yet steady process brings to mind another time, of his own slow routine of caring for the night cereus so long ago. Of the satisfaction that filled him of coming closer to fulfilling a wish. He reaches out, tempted to feel the small star-shaped petals, but stops himself.
The reason for that hesitation is unclear.
Being underserving of the gift or a reluctance to harm it.
He glances back over to Xingchen and then away, wondering if the more complex spell will hold if his friend attempts to send it away.
A lump catches in his throat and he rises from his seat, hesitating again before waving his hand, a tall pottery pot with earth appearing at their side.
That same hand quickly flips behind his back afterwards as he speaks. ]
This one is taller. It would be a waste of your effort if it failed on the journey to the flowerbed. This way, that won’t happen.
[ Runyu is turned aside, not quite looking at Xingchen, not quite moving away. ]
no subject
no such luck, of course. instead, the hand gives a wave as if that was the reason it hovered all along, and there on the ground beside them appears a lovely flowerpot. 'it would be a waste of your effort if it failed on the journey to the flowerbed,' runyu is saying, but xingchen only halfway hears it. the hyacinth has even paused (if only briefly) in its blooming as he looks at this flowerpot summoned so considerately from the ether, a smile both wondering and deeply amused blooming instead at the edges of his lips.
but if runyu wonders why, he won't be left wondering for long: soon xingchen lifts his gaze back to his dear sweet flowerpot-manifesting companion, lips pressing together a moment to swallow back as much mirth as he possibly can, then: ) You've put soil in it. ( oh, but he sounds so terribly endeared, and it's just a second or two more before his composure cracks in an exhaled laugh-breath, leaving behind a bright and largely involuntary little grin (which he would certainly cover with a hand if he had one to spare, but alas, he does not). ) Runyu, I've made it from qi. It doesn't even have roots. What could it possibly want with soil?
no subject
Xufeng.
The brother he betrayed completely and who forgave him and invited him in his house. But even if their bond had somehow survived, their relationship has changed. Runyu rarely lingers at his home. He comes and goes. His brother is finally free. And as the one who caused much of the anguish he had gone through, Runyu can not tarry in his simple, peaceful abode.
Hearing something similar now, in his realm, is unheard of.
He doesn’t know how to respond. Forming words in face of such goodness is hard enough, let alone combatting his amusement with reasoning.
And yet… he tries. ]
I only tended to one. I-I didn’t know these wouldn’t need such things.
no subject
You only recall tending to one, ( he corrects, still fairly light in tone but no longer properly teasing. ) In truth, you've cared for quite a number of them. ( though it seems benign enough not to cross into that which runyu would prefer not to talk about just yet, xingchen's gaze remains focused on the flower as he speaks. it's nearly done, just a few buds left to bloom, and paying attention to that gives runyu the option to sidestep it altogether without the unintended pressure of xingchen's gaze. )
no subject
But it is an idea that is too far away to consider now.
He lets out a breath. ]
Perhaps in another realm where I haven’t committed such grave sins I could, but even if the fairies were to return them here, I don’t deserve to be the caretaker of another such weak, fragile beauty.
[ Runyu glances away, back to the dark silent sky that has kept him company for so many eternities, as if speaking of this sin, even indirectly, has awoken the pain of the events. To be honest, it hasn't. There's nothing to awake when it's never truly faded. When it remains as a fated weariness inside him even now. ]
They're safer letting the spirits of the elements take that task for them.