Well, making the man cry hadn't been his goal, but he could accept responsibility and deal with the consequences. Even if it seemed like he wasn't...well, like the tears weren't entirely unhappy tears? The squeeze and the laughter suggested as much. He would take it.
Gruff, he muttered, "You shouldn't worry. It's not your fault that whoever dragged me to this island rang my head like a bell. Or that we're different people from the last time we saw each other."
He smiled back down at A-Yao until the end of his question, when he froze. A fission of...something went down his spine. Because his gut response to whether it was becoming for A-Yao to be covered in sand and (his) sweat was 'yes, actually,' with a side order of possessive. The thought caught him entirely broadside and completely by surprise. He sucked his breath in.
Unsure whether he should be flustered by it or not, he stared for longer than it should have taken to formulate a reply. Because this older Meng Yao was very lovely, handsome and careworn all. He'd already had that notion, had that lovely face in his hands, and with that face upturned with a pretty smile on his lips, he was very forcibly reminded that this person was everything he'd admired in the younger plus no longer his subordinate or too young.
He had no idea what his expression showed—something too open and too focused—but he let out his breath in a slow, measured exhale and blamed Fuck Island for the whole damn train of thought.
no subject
Gruff, he muttered, "You shouldn't worry. It's not your fault that whoever dragged me to this island rang my head like a bell. Or that we're different people from the last time we saw each other."
He smiled back down at A-Yao until the end of his question, when he froze. A fission of...something went down his spine. Because his gut response to whether it was becoming for A-Yao to be covered in sand and (his) sweat was 'yes, actually,' with a side order of possessive. The thought caught him entirely broadside and completely by surprise. He sucked his breath in.
Unsure whether he should be flustered by it or not, he stared for longer than it should have taken to formulate a reply. Because this older Meng Yao was very lovely, handsome and careworn all. He'd already had that notion, had that lovely face in his hands, and with that face upturned with a pretty smile on his lips, he was very forcibly reminded that this person was everything he'd admired in the younger plus no longer his subordinate or too young.
He had no idea what his expression showed—something too open and too focused—but he let out his breath in a slow, measured exhale and blamed Fuck Island for the whole damn train of thought.