(no subject)

[we_bring_hell]

Harrow is having a slow-motion argument with the Bar over breakfast. She wants water and a little bread, and the Bar does not agree that this is a breakfast.


She has rejected an omelet, a breakfast sandwich, and biscuits and gravy. The Bar is trying a bowl of porridge on her and she's considering it. (She hasn't noticed it has raisins in it yet.)

Comments

[we_bring_hell]

She smiles faintly. "I will make you a promise -- speak to Lan Wangji, and I shall join you for a meal, whether in condolence or congratulation. You may set the menu, and I will match you course for course."

[acrookedpath]

He groans loudly, every ounce of melodrama returning, and throws his head back.

"Aiya, fine," he says to the ceiling -- but he's laughing through it, aware of how ridiculous he is being, how ridiculous all of this is. "You have a deal, Harrow. I promise I will not subject you to anything too strong, but I will speak my feelings to him, and we will eat when it is done."

[we_bring_hell]

"Then it is sealed," she says solemnly. Harrow is good at many thing, but laughing at herself is surely not one of them.

She looks at the accusing line of dishes. "I believe I still owe the Tomb a penitential walk outdoors."

[acrookedpath]

"I should not keep you from your duties with my absurd troubles, then," says Wei Wuxian. His smile has gone a touch sheepish. "Thank you for listening. I hope to be in better spirits next I see you."

[we_bring_hell]

"I hope for this as well," she says. She hesitates.

"You are beyond all responsibilities now; at liberty to pursue your own happiness. There is nothing absurd or shameful about seeking a connection with another."

"Good luck." The Bar sulkily vanishes her dishes.