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(but then, has runyu ever embraced him back? he didn't when xingchen returned from the mountains, the fox recalls that fact now with the faintest flicker of doubt - nor did he do more than grip at xingchen's hands, that troubled night after runyu first sprouted antennae.)
the vaguely amused accusation of missing his chair manages to distract him, and his next huff is faintly indignant. ) Listing, perhaps, but I haven't once missed a chair, ( he argues back, tired but good-natured. ) And I'd argue that I've managed more sleep than usual. ( which is, in and of itself, a symptom of his ongoing difficulties - but that's beside the point. the point is that he's more than capable of deciding on his own whether or not he has the fortitude to shoulder one more concern, and perhaps the point might also be that taking such choice away from him at first sign of duress really just teaches him to hide that duress a bit better.
and he wonders if an additional point might also be that he has grown much too bold as of late, too pushy, too ready to inflict contact upon someone who already feels too indebted to him to deny him that contact - but then fingers comb into his fur, and that particular doubt is held at bay for the moment. )
Only speak of it if you think it might help, ( xingchen says now, a murmur lacking the flicker of fire from his argument. ) You owe me no explanation.
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[ He takes a breath, as if bracing himself, arms burrowing into the fur further, more sinking more into the warmth offered than actually closing his arms around him for a hug. A subconscious choice not to overwhelm him. ]
You already know that I I lost my mother tragically. What you don't know are the details, the fact that she was killed right before my eyes, even as I begged her killer to have mercy. To forgive her vengeance for my sake only. She was already broken and I did everything else that that woman had asked of me. ( His breath hitches as a longer shudder ship rips through him. ) But even that death wasn't enough punishment for that woman. Not when she wanted to erase the whole existence of my mother from the realm. When my father was too much of a hypocrite to stop her. And not when I had dared stand against her. No, after taking that life, after ignoring the one favor I asked of her, she set before me an the impossible choice. To be punished for my mother’s sins or to stand by while she destroyed those who remained, including two foster brothers, one still a child. The Heavenly Punishment has killed lesser immortals. Thunder, lightning, and fire, all at once with no rest, enough for 30,000 lives, to break me once and for all and never let me forget.
[ Runyu’s voice fades. For a few moments, he is silent, shaking, his arms buried in the thick fur of his friend. He's finally given into the need for comfort perhaps because he has never spoken of this moment. ]
This was my final gift to my mother, after abandoning her for decades. The pain is something I can never escape, not completely. And if I didn't learn of the true depth of my father's treachery, nothing would've changed. That woman would have won. I would have remained their silent servant to their sins.
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and he listens, of course, careful not to interrupt - though when runyu's breath hitches, he does let out the slightest discontented huff-breath of his own and lean his head that much more firmly against runyu's chest, his snout tucked more solidly along the spot where neck and shoulder meet. as if it were possible to simply wish comfort into a person, if you only could will it strongly enough.
then the retelling is through, and they're left in a quiet thick with the weight of it and with the ever-impending threat of the next flash of lightning looming just on the other side of a roof which has never quite felt so thin as it does right now.
there's nothing that xingchen can say. or maybe there is but he's in no state to properly think of it - regardless, his impotence thickens deep in his gut, congeals into something much too heavy to ignore. but there's nothing which fixes this. there's no reassurance, no insight or wisdom, nothing but the raw and miserable truth of that which runyu has endured.
from the nine-tailed fox comes a long, slow exhale - contemplative, but also perhaps suggesting that runyu attempt to breathe similarly. and then, ) You forget that you're no longer enduring such things alone. ( which doesn't lessen the pain or the torment of such memories, but it may very well be able help his friend weather these nightly reminders thereof. ) We'll lie down, ( xingchen murmurs, quiet but assured despite runyu's earlier refusal to do precisely that. ) If there's any use to all this fur, it's muffling thunder and shielding one's eyes from flashes of light. ( which is precisely his plan: to curl around runyu's head and bury him in enough tails that he hardly recalls that it's storming at all. )
Failing that, I've found that it's quite difficult to stay awake when you're trapped beneath a sleeping cat. One would only assume that holds true for foxes as well. ( because there's very little chance that xingchen will be awake for long, once runyu has calmed even slightly. )
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And then there’s the solution. Runyu releases a shaky laugh that is more of a breath than anything else at the kind silly notion. An answer that doesn’t compel him to do anything else but rest.
But not alone.
Such a resolution is almost a dream. ]
Can you truthfully sleep like that, Xingchen? ( he mumbles, head remaining tucked against all the fur around him. )
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so no, he won't tire of it. he will tire of a great many things here, no doubt - but never this.
and every little ounce of relief he seems to offer to runyu washes over xingchen himself as well, a different sort of relief perhaps but just as palpable. that runyu allowed himself to embrace this vulpine form was a relief. to feel him breathing in time (as best he can, at least) is a relief. then comes that fragile laugh-breath, and that too is a relief.
as for the question, it's one which earns what sounds suspiciously like a chuckle-breath of his own. ) A proper daozhang rarely affords the luxury of a bed, ( he murmurs right back. ) One might be surprised where I'm able to sleep. ( he did sleep in a coffin for nearly three years. and that's putting aside how utterly exhausted he is at this particular juncture. )
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The rain continues to pound outside his window. ]
It seems discourteous to give you … anything less for your- your generosity.
[ A quaver escapes from his lips and he falls silent, regulating his breathing again. ]