it's true that death doesn't mean much to them. or it ought not. both hong lu and yi sang have come back so many times from the dead that it is merely another part of their job. hong lu thinks it's rather fun, to be honest. there's the pain, and the novelty of it, of seeing what new creative ways someone can crack him open and set him free. but he and yi sang are not fighting, not each other, not a peril beyond measure. it is merely a tower and a fall, and an entire waterfall's worth of hair.
but yi sang would catch him knowing that he'd die.
it's yi sang who is in motion first, for once. he is at the window, and looks back to hong lu. hong lu feels warm. his cheeks are warm, he thinks. ]
Okay. [ hong lu says, and walks to the ledge. he looks to yi sang for a moment first, as if committing the sight of him to memory. it's yi sang, framed by the window. the world outside looks boring, and bleak. but yi sang's image at the window is worth looking at; it gives value to that world. ]
Then, let me lower you down, first.
[ hong lu pulls at his hair. it's heavy, but nothing is too heavy for hong lu to move. he finds the end of it, and holds it out to yi sang. ] Don't lose your grip. If you die, I'd rather it be from catching me, than from dropping down the tower.
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it's true that death doesn't mean much to them. or it ought not. both hong lu and yi sang have come back so many times from the dead that it is merely another part of their job. hong lu thinks it's rather fun, to be honest. there's the pain, and the novelty of it, of seeing what new creative ways someone can crack him open and set him free. but he and yi sang are not fighting, not each other, not a peril beyond measure. it is merely a tower and a fall, and an entire waterfall's worth of hair.
but yi sang would catch him knowing that he'd die.
it's yi sang who is in motion first, for once. he is at the window, and looks back to hong lu. hong lu feels warm. his cheeks are warm, he thinks. ]
Okay. [ hong lu says, and walks to the ledge. he looks to yi sang for a moment first, as if committing the sight of him to memory. it's yi sang, framed by the window. the world outside looks boring, and bleak. but yi sang's image at the window is worth looking at; it gives value to that world. ]
Then, let me lower you down, first.
[ hong lu pulls at his hair. it's heavy, but nothing is too heavy for hong lu to move. he finds the end of it, and holds it out to yi sang. ] Don't lose your grip. If you die, I'd rather it be from catching me, than from dropping down the tower.