“I have a tea set, you know,” Zhao Yunlan says, and it sounds like a reproach. “A really nice one. And the tea to go with it. Lushan cloud tea, it smells like spring in the mountains.”
Shen Wei blinks into the dark, ice crystals falling off his lashes, and tries to remember. Were they talking about tea, before? He must have missed it. It feels like he missed more than that.
“I know you don’t think I know anything about food, that I only know far too much about alcohol, but—” Zhao Yunlan seems to be having an argument with him that he can’t remember starting. Or contributing to.
“I never said that,” Shen Wei croaks.
“Oh, there you are,” Zhao Yunlan says, and his voice is very soft. Closer than before. Warmer. “Shen Wei?”
“Zhao Yunlan,” Shen Wei says, more or less automatically, and then stops. “I can’t see anything.”
Zhao Yunlan chuckles. “Me either. My phone died about an hour ago, but it’s probably close to midnight. Don’t worry, we’ll make it to morning.”
That’s…not as reassuring as Zhao Yunlan probably meant it to be. “Where are we?”
Zhao Yunlan’s breathing is very slow, steady, and that helps. “Oh. We’re in an ice cave. Do you remember Li Xia, the suspect we were after? She raised an ice storm—you shielded us—”
Shen Wei tries to find his memories, but though ice storm sounds vaguely relevant, everything else is a blank. He tries to shake his head, then realizes. “You can’t see me,” he says, mournful.
“No, I can’t,” Zhao Yunlan agrees. “I wish I could.”
There’s something wrapped around Shen Wei, something that feels heavy, but he’s not sure what it is. It doesn’t hurt, so it probably isn’t chains. “Where are we?”
Zhao Yunlan’s breath hitches, then steadies again. “We’re in an ice cave. Does your head hurt?”
Shen Wei wants to shake his head again, but remembers just in time. “No, I don’t think so.” He tries to take stock of how he feels, but it’s difficult. He must have a body, but he can’t seem to locate any particulars about its wellbeing. “Are you—Zhao Yunlan, are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” Zhao Yunlan says, too fast for Shen Wei to feel reassured. “Can you please focus on yourself, for once? You need to stay awake, just to be safe. I can’t see you, and I can’t tell if you have a concussion, or if you’re just exhausted, or—”
Shen Wei tries to move his arm—he has an arm, that’s a positive, he might even have two—because the distress in Zhao Yunlan’s voice hurts, and he can’t listen to that and not respond. He reaches out into the darkness, or tries to, but his arm seems to be stuck inside something.
“Shen Wei?” Oh, that’s very close, almost as if Zhao Yunlan is talking right beside him. That is good. They shouldn’t be separated: everything is better when they’re not separated.
“Where are you?” Shen Wei asks, and the heavy weight around him tightens. Oh. “Is that you?”
“That’s me,” Zhao Yunlan confirms, and now Shen Wei can feel breath tickle his ear. “Do you need me to move, or—”
“No,” Shen Wei says. That’s one question he can answer. “I—I like to know where you are.’
“I like that, too,” Zhao Yunlan says, and his voice is so soft, and Shen Wei can feel his eyes close, can feel himself drift peacefully away—
“No, that’s not allowed,” Zhao Yunlan tells him, firm, and it feels like something unpleasant is happening. Is the ground shaking? “Shen Wei. Stay here. I’m not done talking to you.”
Oh, of course. “Please continue,” Shen Wei says politely.
Zhao Yunlan makes a sound in the back of his throat. “Right. So. Do you want me to tell you where we are, and what happened, or would you like me to keep talking about everything that’s inside my kitchen cupboards? I don’t mind.”
Shen Wei tries to keep track of so many things at once, like where his feet are, and how many arms he currently has, but anything Zhao Yunlan asks him will always have precedence. Anything he says is important, especially the things he doesn’t say. “You were talking about tea,” he says. “You must be thirsty. I’m sorry I can’t make you any—”
Zhao Yunlan interrupts him. “No, that’s all right. I promised to make you some good tea, do you remember? When we met? And I never did. So let me tell you all about it, because I’m going to do that, when we get back.”
Shen Wei hums a little, because it sounds nice. “You own tea? Not—teabags?” He really didn’t mean to sound so doubtful.
Zhao Yunlan chuckles. “I do. I just haven’t had time to unpack it yet. We never have time to do all the things we want…” He sighs a little. “I went to that little tea store under the museum, the one with all the tea pots in the window, you remember? And I asked them what to buy for a very discerning connoisseur, what kind of tea would make a good gift—are you listening?”
Shen Wei hums, again. He isn’t sure who this elevated personage is that Zhao Yunlan was buying tea for, maybe some connection of his father’s? But he could listen to him talk in that warm, soft voice forever. And it might be his imagination, but everything else around him, everything inside him feels a little warmer, too.
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winterfish
Re: Comfort!tea served by Zhao Yunlan
Date: 2019-10-06 12:04 pm (UTC)Shen Wei blinks into the dark, ice crystals falling off his lashes, and tries to remember. Were they talking about tea, before? He must have missed it. It feels like he missed more than that.
“I know you don’t think I know anything about food, that I only know far too much about alcohol, but—” Zhao Yunlan seems to be having an argument with him that he can’t remember starting. Or contributing to.
“I never said that,” Shen Wei croaks.
“Oh, there you are,” Zhao Yunlan says, and his voice is very soft. Closer than before. Warmer. “Shen Wei?”
“Zhao Yunlan,” Shen Wei says, more or less automatically, and then stops. “I can’t see anything.”
Zhao Yunlan chuckles. “Me either. My phone died about an hour ago, but it’s probably close to midnight. Don’t worry, we’ll make it to morning.”
That’s…not as reassuring as Zhao Yunlan probably meant it to be. “Where are we?”
Zhao Yunlan’s breathing is very slow, steady, and that helps. “Oh. We’re in an ice cave. Do you remember Li Xia, the suspect we were after? She raised an ice storm—you shielded us—”
Shen Wei tries to find his memories, but though ice storm sounds vaguely relevant, everything else is a blank. He tries to shake his head, then realizes. “You can’t see me,” he says, mournful.
“No, I can’t,” Zhao Yunlan agrees. “I wish I could.”
There’s something wrapped around Shen Wei, something that feels heavy, but he’s not sure what it is. It doesn’t hurt, so it probably isn’t chains. “Where are we?”
Zhao Yunlan’s breath hitches, then steadies again. “We’re in an ice cave. Does your head hurt?”
Shen Wei wants to shake his head again, but remembers just in time. “No, I don’t think so.” He tries to take stock of how he feels, but it’s difficult. He must have a body, but he can’t seem to locate any particulars about its wellbeing. “Are you—Zhao Yunlan, are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” Zhao Yunlan says, too fast for Shen Wei to feel reassured. “Can you please focus on yourself, for once? You need to stay awake, just to be safe. I can’t see you, and I can’t tell if you have a concussion, or if you’re just exhausted, or—”
Shen Wei tries to move his arm—he has an arm, that’s a positive, he might even have two—because the distress in Zhao Yunlan’s voice hurts, and he can’t listen to that and not respond. He reaches out into the darkness, or tries to, but his arm seems to be stuck inside something.
“Shen Wei?” Oh, that’s very close, almost as if Zhao Yunlan is talking right beside him. That is good. They shouldn’t be separated: everything is better when they’re not separated.
“Where are you?” Shen Wei asks, and the heavy weight around him tightens. Oh. “Is that you?”
“That’s me,” Zhao Yunlan confirms, and now Shen Wei can feel breath tickle his ear. “Do you need me to move, or—”
“No,” Shen Wei says. That’s one question he can answer. “I—I like to know where you are.’
“I like that, too,” Zhao Yunlan says, and his voice is so soft, and Shen Wei can feel his eyes close, can feel himself drift peacefully away—
“No, that’s not allowed,” Zhao Yunlan tells him, firm, and it feels like something unpleasant is happening. Is the ground shaking? “Shen Wei. Stay here. I’m not done talking to you.”
Oh, of course. “Please continue,” Shen Wei says politely.
Zhao Yunlan makes a sound in the back of his throat. “Right. So. Do you want me to tell you where we are, and what happened, or would you like me to keep talking about everything that’s inside my kitchen cupboards? I don’t mind.”
Shen Wei tries to keep track of so many things at once, like where his feet are, and how many arms he currently has, but anything Zhao Yunlan asks him will always have precedence. Anything he says is important, especially the things he doesn’t say. “You were talking about tea,” he says. “You must be thirsty. I’m sorry I can’t make you any—”
Zhao Yunlan interrupts him. “No, that’s all right. I promised to make you some good tea, do you remember? When we met? And I never did. So let me tell you all about it, because I’m going to do that, when we get back.”
Shen Wei hums a little, because it sounds nice. “You own tea? Not—teabags?” He really didn’t mean to sound so doubtful.
Zhao Yunlan chuckles. “I do. I just haven’t had time to unpack it yet. We never have time to do all the things we want…” He sighs a little. “I went to that little tea store under the museum, the one with all the tea pots in the window, you remember? And I asked them what to buy for a very discerning connoisseur, what kind of tea would make a good gift—are you listening?”
Shen Wei hums, again. He isn’t sure who this elevated personage is that Zhao Yunlan was buying tea for, maybe some connection of his father’s? But he could listen to him talk in that warm, soft voice forever. And it might be his imagination, but everything else around him, everything inside him feels a little warmer, too.