[ It may not be why Xingqiu has invited him over, but Chongyun stops to look at it anyway. He had always thought that his friend was talentedâhandwriting asideâand the detailed map rolled out onto the table only reassures him of that notion. Itâs well made. Labelled. Neat. He may have chided Xingqiu a bit for seeming less than interested in Sutokuâs happenings, but he knows that the other boy is always diligent in his way. Like with this. He obviously has put a lot of work into it.
Chongyunâs fingertip lightly brushes over the page. Barely a touch at all, really, because he doesnât want to accidentally smudge Xingqiuâs work. ]
I know, but ⌠this is very good.
[ Leaving the chaotic mess of Xingqiuâs books alone, Chongyun sits down in front of the table. There isnât much room for tea or snacks this way, but itâs not like he came for either of those things. ]
There was something you wanted to tell me, right?
[ He had wondered what it might be, but the longer he went on, the more wild his assumptions became. It was better to not think that much about it, in the end. ]
no subject
Chongyunâs fingertip lightly brushes over the page. Barely a touch at all, really, because he doesnât want to accidentally smudge Xingqiuâs work. ]
I know, but ⌠this is very good.
[ Leaving the chaotic mess of Xingqiuâs books alone, Chongyun sits down in front of the table. There isnât much room for tea or snacks this way, but itâs not like he came for either of those things. ]
There was something you wanted to tell me, right?
[ He had wondered what it might be, but the longer he went on, the more wild his assumptions became. It was better to not think that much about it, in the end. ]