Yunru took the drawing in his hands and stared at it, running his eyes over every conceivable black line and scribble spilling out of his gaping hole of a head.
"I… look like this to you?" he said. It came out like a whisper and he looked to Lien. "You think I look like this? Are you blind? Am I a mess? Is that what you’re trying to say? I don’t need to loosen up. I’m free as the wind. The wind. You get loose. Screw yourself.” Yunru swallowed a lump in his throat and turned in his seat. “Stop eating that junk. It’s so bad for you. What is it? Flies and dead bee carcass masquerading as meat. Hope you bought extra large pants. You’ll be needing them if you keep that up.”
A brow raised and lips stuck in a subtle pout, Lien watched silently as the stranger rambled on, words after words rolling effortlessly off his tongue. He was going off like a damn machine gun. "If anyone needs to screw themselves, it's you, thanks." Reaching over, the younger of the two clamped a hand over Yunru's mouth, a sharp snort escaping him as he'd done so. "And for a guy who can't seem to stop talking," he commented lamely, eyes serious, "you sure have a lot of nothing to say." He dug his palm in deeper, almost painfully so. "You're a lot more handsome when you don't talk. It almost makes you tolerable. What do I even call you?"
