[He pushes away from the table so fast that he nearly knocks his tea over, jumping to his feet and turning to begin pacing the room without a word. He'd had his suspicions about some of what Nie Huaisang had to tell him, but never in a million years had he considered this. His thoughts are in disarray, and it feels like he's being dismantled from his foundation up.
He stops in his pacing and stares at the wall in front of him, eyes unseeing.
The thing is, it was his fault. It was supposed to be his fault. It had to be his fault. Because if it wasn't then...then what?
The question echoes in his mind.
If it wasn't then what? Then Shijie didn't have to die? Then he could have saved Jin Zixuan if he'd just been paying attention, if he's been listening, if he'd been sharper and faster and better. He could have saved Jin Zixuan and the Dafan Wen didn't have to die. He didn't have to be there at Nightless City that day. He didn't have to watch Shijie die in Jiang Cheng's arms or see his brother look at him with pure loathing in his eyes.
If it wasn't his fault, then what was it all for? What was the point of any of it?
He turns to face Huaisang again, taking a few steps forward back to the table and not quite making it there before sinking to his knees. He doesn't cry. What's the point? He closes his eyes, head tilted up towards the ceiling, and he exhales softly before tilting his head back down and raising a hand to cover his face. His second hand joins the first and then he starts to laugh.
It isn't hysterical, the laughter soft and unhurried, but there's an edge to it that speaks to something horribly desparate.]
no subject
He stops in his pacing and stares at the wall in front of him, eyes unseeing.
The thing is, it was his fault. It was supposed to be his fault. It had to be his fault. Because if it wasn't then...then what?
The question echoes in his mind.
If it wasn't then what? Then Shijie didn't have to die? Then he could have saved Jin Zixuan if he'd just been paying attention, if he's been listening, if he'd been sharper and faster and better. He could have saved Jin Zixuan and the Dafan Wen didn't have to die. He didn't have to be there at Nightless City that day. He didn't have to watch Shijie die in Jiang Cheng's arms or see his brother look at him with pure loathing in his eyes.
If it wasn't his fault, then what was it all for? What was the point of any of it?
He turns to face Huaisang again, taking a few steps forward back to the table and not quite making it there before sinking to his knees. He doesn't cry. What's the point? He closes his eyes, head tilted up towards the ceiling, and he exhales softly before tilting his head back down and raising a hand to cover his face. His second hand joins the first and then he starts to laugh.
It isn't hysterical, the laughter soft and unhurried, but there's an edge to it that speaks to something horribly desparate.]
Sorry Nie-xiong, I need a minute.