His breath catches the instant he realizes what he is reading. "Lan Zhan," he whispers, for lack of anything else to say.
Gently, he pages through the score. At the duet, he brings his hand to his mouth as if to catch the soft oh that escapes him; when he reaches the lyrics, he almost starts to laugh again, unable to contain the swell of love so huge it nestles right against the inside of his ribs.
It still feels as if Lan Zhan sang to him in a dream. Here is proof: he did not imagine it. Any of it.
"Lan Zhan," he says again, and when he looks up his eyes are brimming bright with tears, cheeks aching from a smile that could light the world. "It's perfect."
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Gently, he pages through the score. At the duet, he brings his hand to his mouth as if to catch the soft oh that escapes him; when he reaches the lyrics, he almost starts to laugh again, unable to contain the swell of love so huge it nestles right against the inside of his ribs.
It still feels as if Lan Zhan sang to him in a dream. Here is proof: he did not imagine it. Any of it.
"Lan Zhan," he says again, and when he looks up his eyes are brimming bright with tears, cheeks aching from a smile that could light the world. "It's perfect."