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lies down and delights in the pain of the 'last moments of guanyin temple were their love confessions' interpretation
maybe not 'interpretations' per se, maybe scenarios? headcanons? words are hard. 'don't you write fic' statistically, not really
anyway i love all interpretations (if only their people aren't acting like they're Obvious and Only True Options) but there's something so wonderfully horrible in lxc realizing that maybe if they both knew earlier, everything would have gone differently BUT IT'S TOO LATE NOW
lxc thinking about all those times they were staying up, talking about/reciting poetry, all those times he felt so at peace, so himself, and he wondered if maybe--if /maybe/... but no, a-yao had his duties, his family
the closest they've ever been! was guanyin temple! and some nights back when he was on the run, when they huddled for warmth, but the thing is--even for a cultivator--memory is a fragile thing. he didn't think to focus on the curve of a-yao's cheek, the color of the shadows on
his hand; he was tired, cold and hungry and just wanted one night of sleep, of not waking up with a start every half an hour because his half-asleep mind was convinced there was something in the dark
he didn't think to remember and now the memory is blurry.
he didn't think to remember and now the memory is blurry.
lxc, in his seclusion cottage, realizing that one day he will forget a-yao's face.
(that he's already started to forget da-ge's--one that's free of anger and tension, eyes relaxed, a smile that makes him look years younger--is not new, but doesn't help either)
(that he's already started to forget da-ge's--one that's free of anger and tension, eyes relaxed, a smile that makes him look years younger--is not new, but doesn't help either)
