Soaked to the bone, Mo Xuanyu stands in the doorway of his half brother’s chambers, trying not to shiver as his wet robes simultaniously cling and weigh him down and his hair hangs limp and dripping. The subtle white powder he’d applied to his face has been almost entirely washed away, and his eye shadow and kohl leave red and black streaks running down his fair cheeks.
Jin Zixuan’s reaction has him flinching almost violently, curling in on himself to try and make himself smaller, or as if expecting a blow that thankfully doesn’t come.
“Dage, I— I mean— Jin Zixuan—” He’s quick to salute his older brother, trying not to make too much of a mess. “I really am sorry. I... should’ve knocked, but the storm came so fast and I—” He’s not sure what to say to quell his brother’s anger, stumbling over his words. “It won’t happen again. Please... let me stay until it passes?”
// @nevereigned *














