week three | match ceremony

[marriagebroker]

We're back, baby!

The courtyard is lit up with lanterns all over and there is now a second special couch near the Furina and Ringo couch from last week. This is the Verso-Nico couch, if they want to sit in it. But they don't have to! Live your truth, boys! Go sit with your situationships instead!

Wei Wuxian is here, still looking happy after his absence this week, and he is dressed to impress in NOT a hanfu this time, but a modern look. He's liking it, honestly. Look at him sparkle!

"Congratulations, my friends! You are once again free from a blackout and losing a wish as you found a perfect match at yesterday's truth booth. Good job!" Wei Wuxian explains, twirling his flute in his fingers as per usual. "You might still get no lights again otherwise but, uh, let's hope not! I believe in you!"

... Does he?

Either way, he bounces on his feet and calls out, "Team Suibian, it's time to make your picks!" Looks like we're ready to go.

Comments

[embellwish]

[ His touch always feels much warmer than it really is — now more than ever, maybe. Like's she's said to several among their number, words like these aren't the kind of thing that typically stir her heart. The honeyed words that belong in fairy tales and books about romance are a dime a dozen, often offered without real heart behind it.

But Yi Sang is different, and always has been. Instead, that and I, you, settles the faint dread she'd been beginning to feel. The brush of first his knuckles, and then his lips at her cheek, feather light as it is, feel as though two halves of a whole slotting together. Her eyelashes flutter at the contact, endeared by the chaste, innocent quality of his affection... and grateful to finally see it for the first time.

Yingying isn't the type to doubt in others — if this is what he's chosen to say, then she's sure no small amount of deliberation and consideration was made in preparation. She doesn't need to ask are you sure, or what do you mean? The knit between her brows gives way to relief, plain and heartfelt.

When he draws back, her calm smile is there to meet his. ]

Mmhm.... [ She hums in acknowledgement, goading a little, hands reaching out to pat around near his chest like she had at the ceremony, as if she's going to uncover some secret notes he'd written to himself on what to say. When nothing turns up, she lets her hands rest there anyway, fingers drumming idly. ] Any other romantic lines like that you've been waiting to drop on me? You can keep going...

[ I am yours. She likes the sound of that too much to not try coaxing out more sweet nothings — sweet somethings? — out of him, thinking she deserves some special attention as a reward after all this time. Deserves to tease him a little, to make him similarly lay his heart down in the open, especially when he's finally become so forthcoming. Her arms snake around his waist, tilting up to look at him expectantly, a glint of mischief and affection shining there in her playful gaze. ]

[poans]

[Her fingers drum against him as faux heartbeats. They don't pass through him, but sprout throughout his chest in a pleasant feedback. Yi Sang glances down at the unexpected embrace, momentarily taken by surprise before lifting his chin to meet her lively gaze. He remembers this, as well as what he said in response to her then.]

The words are my own.

[Whether they're romantic, fond, or redolent of "like-like," they're more than mere lines to be performed. Unlike back during the first ceremony, before which he'd turned the words over and over again in his head to verbalize a fraction of his thoughts, those that come in this moment belong to the present. They may be late, but they're here still.

Lifting his other hand, he tenderly curls his fingers around the side of Yingying's jawline and rests his thumb on her cheek. His are the hands of a researcher. They once created and shared his hopes and dreams before turning to ash, from which the roots of despair grew. Rather than a grave in bloom, however, the flowers that caress them are warm and sweet. These taxidermied hands now breathe with color, and they, too, are hers.]

The season turns as we speak. A harvest has arrived, and spring shall soon blossom. In the winter before then . . . what new wish do you have to make of me for the turn of the year?

[embellwish]

[ Where his hand cradles her face, she leans into it readily, cheeks darkening with color. This is happening fast — not more than ten minutes ago was she convinced that his clear attachment to her had nothing to do with romanticism — but she's always been pressing and looking forward. It'd be too much of a shame to not keep pace with him in this moment, to not meet his every tender word. ]

I think you have an idea, [ She hums, looking up at him and only him. Close like this, she can hardly see the blooms all around them, much less the estate or the cameras. Right now, all else falls away. ] After making me wait so long as you did...

[ With her arms still snug around him, she tilts her chin up to brush her lips with his — for real this time, not a teasing peck to leave him wanting more, to try to goad him into desiring her. She kisses him firmly, sweetly, the contact simple and straightforward but all the more heartfelt for it. She remembers spin the bottle, remembers his tentative and awkward approach towards kissing, how he'd needed to strictly avert his eyes completely after the fact. She wants to see the difference between that Yi Sang and the one in front of her now, how different he might feel kissing someone for whom he's fostered, nurtured, and grown affection for. It's better this way for her, too, the curve of her smile tangible against his lips, accompanying a fresh burst of longing in her chest. ]

[poans]

[He couldn't have guessed.

After all, romance has always been in his periphery, manifesting in part as children playing with an abandoned ball on the streets—a sight far removed from his own home, its surfaces littered with ideas and playthings of his own. He's accustomed to hands clapping him on the back or grabbing him by the arm, not holding him, so the answer only comes to him once she's already made her move.

Cool though Yingying's lips may be, the fragrance of wisteria is warm as always. Yi Sang feels the smile against his lips, and an odd beat thuds in his chest from the clear conveyance of her intentions akin to the ecstasy he'd feel when gazing into Yeonsim. He recalls his first kiss over a game of spinning bottles, and how he only started entertaining the thought of reciprocating several rounds later, how his chest throbbed from the ephemerality of it all. None of that matters before the beautiful serenity of now. His free hand comes up to rest on her shoulder; his eyes fall half-shut; and he angles his head into the kiss with amateurish tenderness and affection, meeting her evenly with a small smile of his own.]

[embellwish]

[ Amateurish or no, this kiss is more than she ever imagined it would be like. The slight curve of his lips, the tentative hand at her shoulder — it all culminates into a fragile kind of sweetness, new to the world as a fawn. All she wants is to protect and nurture that fledgling affection, watch it grow and mature into something bigger, just as she had waited patiently for his stumbling words become more steady.

When the kiss breaks, she's quick to close her arms around him into a hug, resting her chin over his shoulder and breathing out a sigh. He's been able to manage looking at her directly today, but when she would daydream about elaborating on how she feels about him, she would think about doing it like this, so that he might listen without any worries on his mind. Laughing quietly to herself, her brow furrows, unseen to him. ]

...I really care for you, you know? I've never felt like this before.

[ Which is true. Experienced as she seems in all other manners of romance and intimacy, Yingying hasn't ever been in love, hasn't ever taken a true lover. But his gentle, oblivious sincerity have captured her heart in full, like no one has been able to in the past. ]

I want to learn everything about you, see you smile and laugh.... to keep seeing new sides of you. [ She hugs him a little tighter, the touch of her skin cool. ] You've never left my side, all this time. That meant everything to me. I wanted you to know that, at least.

[ No matter how this impromptu confession had ended up, he deserved to know how much that had affected her — greeting her in the morning, staying through the night, coming back for her without fail. Out of everything, that's what's eased her loneliness most. ]