HuaiSang stares at their joined hands in bewildered confusion, not sure how this is real.
Leaning into the touch on his cheek, he takes one of his hands back so that he can press it over that hand on his cheek, keeping it there. No one's ever touched him like this. No one's ever given him this kind of validation for his grief. Though most of Qinghe still grieves the loss of Nie Mingjue, most of that grief is the loss of an admirable sect leader for a useless one. Jin Guangyao and Lan Xichen had been there to support him, but then one of them turned out to be the murderer and the other still remained unknown. Xichen had always been kind, but HuaiSang had constantly felt like a burden to him, forcing Xichen to care for HuaiSang's emotions when Xichen himself was grieving so fiercely.
HuaiSang doesn't know how to cope with this kind of empathy. His eyes close, tears slipping down his cheeks. "Don't be sweet to me," he scolds, voice shaky with tears. "Don't you know I might fall in love with you?"
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Leaning into the touch on his cheek, he takes one of his hands back so that he can press it over that hand on his cheek, keeping it there. No one's ever touched him like this. No one's ever given him this kind of validation for his grief. Though most of Qinghe still grieves the loss of Nie Mingjue, most of that grief is the loss of an admirable sect leader for a useless one. Jin Guangyao and Lan Xichen had been there to support him, but then one of them turned out to be the murderer and the other still remained unknown. Xichen had always been kind, but HuaiSang had constantly felt like a burden to him, forcing Xichen to care for HuaiSang's emotions when Xichen himself was grieving so fiercely.
HuaiSang doesn't know how to cope with this kind of empathy. His eyes close, tears slipping down his cheeks. "Don't be sweet to me," he scolds, voice shaky with tears. "Don't you know I might fall in love with you?"