[ Wen Ning is standing by the drinks table, excited to have been invited to a party and wondering what drink might be good to try as his first. He picks a bottle that looks nice and reaches for it-- at the exact same moment as a purple sleeved hand also reaches for it.
Wen Ning freezes, retracting his hand as if it had been burnt. ]
A-ah. Sect Leader Jiang. Y-you... You go ahead.
[ He can't help but think of a half remembered dream, backing up slightly and wincing at the phantom pain in the center of his chest. ]
no subject
Wen Ning freezes, retracting his hand as if it had been burnt. ]
A-ah. Sect Leader Jiang. Y-you... You go ahead.
[ He can't help but think of a half remembered dream, backing up slightly and wincing at the phantom pain in the center of his chest. ]