Wei Wuxian opens the letter with such urgency he almost tears the paper, though thankfully he manages not to. He skims the copied page with a frown before turning his attention to the letter, eyes widening slightly at its contents.
He swears under his breath, showing it to Lan Zhan. He can't let Yuan know about this.
"I'm going to work on this immediately," he says softly to his husband, leaning in to kiss his cheek before heading off - for once he actually wants to be in the library pavilion, it's the best place to work on this.
~~~
In Qinghe, Huaisang is surprised to see the purple-ribboned letter, wondering if perhaps it's going to be some polite but terse request for the comb back and thus another tiny break in his already battered heart.
When he finds the poetry inside, however, he can't quite believe his eyes. Poetry. From Jiang Cheng of all people. And such beautiful words! He almost cries.
He reads over the poems several times before he can manage to compose a response, though it's sent mere hours after the messenger arrived in Qinghe.
A-Cheng,
No remorse is required from you, your little bird has quite forgiven any harshness under the circumstances
(He hadn't, until the poetry came, and now he thinks he might be able to forgive anything if it gives him a chance to snatch back the connection they'd had so fleetingly)
But if you're really feeling sorry, you can make it up to me next time I sing for you
Your Nightingale
As sweet and emotive as the poems are, he doesn't dare spill his heart out entirely onto the page - but a little flirting never hurt anybody.
no subject
Wei Wuxian opens the letter with such urgency he almost tears the paper, though thankfully he manages not to. He skims the copied page with a frown before turning his attention to the letter, eyes widening slightly at its contents.
He swears under his breath, showing it to Lan Zhan. He can't let Yuan know about this.
"I'm going to work on this immediately," he says softly to his husband, leaning in to kiss his cheek before heading off - for once he actually wants to be in the library pavilion, it's the best place to work on this.
~~~
In Qinghe, Huaisang is surprised to see the purple-ribboned letter, wondering if perhaps it's going to be some polite but terse request for the comb back and thus another tiny break in his already battered heart.
When he finds the poetry inside, however, he can't quite believe his eyes. Poetry. From Jiang Cheng of all people. And such beautiful words! He almost cries.
He reads over the poems several times before he can manage to compose a response, though it's sent mere hours after the messenger arrived in Qinghe.
A-Cheng,
No remorse is required from you, your little bird has quite forgiven any harshness under the circumstances
(He hadn't, until the poetry came, and now he thinks he might be able to forgive anything if it gives him a chance to snatch back the connection they'd had so fleetingly)
But if you're really feeling sorry, you can make it up to me next time I sing for you
Your Nightingale
As sweet and emotive as the poems are, he doesn't dare spill his heart out entirely onto the page - but a little flirting never hurt anybody.