#wenzhe used to save lcy on his phone it's wenzhe-emoji-talk for 'i have a crush and i'm about to lose my MIND-' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mythvoiced · 1 month

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it's five o'clock in the evening when the video call comes through from lí chényǔ's number --- though the moment the camera turns on, it becomes immediately obvious that the man himself isn't the one placing the call. wendy's face mostly fills the screen, her eyes wide with concern, gaze flitting side to side as if she's attempting to be sneaky. she carefully ( pointedly ) adjusts the angle of the camera just right, such that the patch of damp, discolored plaster ( and the black mold splotched across it ) in the corner of the ceiling comes into view. all the rain has set it to leaking again; even as she videos it, several drops of water fall and land on the cluttered floor beneath, soaking into some ratty old towels that have long since ceased to serve their purpose in keeping what little free floor space there is dry.

in the background, a tv is playing faintly --- by the sound of it, a game show from the mainland. chopsticks clink against a bowl --- michael. wendy glances over at him where he sits next to her on the cramped bottom bunk, then back to the camera. the rain pounds against the single-pane glass; the wind rattles the window in its frame, whistling around the nonexistent weatherstripping. someone coughs as if they're drowning in their own lungs --- lí chényǔ. wendy's face falls, and she surreptitiously tilts the camera just enough to capture the scene.

lí chényǔ sits hunched on the edge of the bed, wrapped in a heavy comforter, a thermometer hanging from the corner of his mouth. his head rests heavily in one hand, a smouldering cigarette perched precariously between his fingers; even from this angle, the unhealthy flush on his cheeks is obvious. the thermometer beeps, and he scrutinizes it, expressionless.

"gēge," wendy asks, "what's it say ?"

"méishénme," lí chényǔ replies hoarsely, with a dismissive wave of his hand. he turns away from his younger siblings, then sneezes violently twice, unable to stop himself from groaning faintly in discomfort afterwards.

michael glances over at wendy, then takes advantage of lí chényǔ's distraction while searching for tissues to snatch the thermometer away from him. "chénchén, why's your temperature 103 ?" he asks worriedly, reaching out rub lí chényǔ's back when his big brother starts coughing again. "you're sick, please don't go play tonight, look how bad the weather is !"

"i won't be long," lí chényǔ whispers in mandarin ( it seems to hurt him to talk. ) "i just ... need to make enough to buy something so i won't cough all night and keep you both up. you have school tomorrow." there's a beat; lí chényǔ sniffles miserably, then turns to wendy. "wénxīn, i need my phone --- "

the video cuts off abruptly. and then ---

[ text to / 徐文哲 ]: its wendy he says hes going to busk at union square when the rain stops. winnie gege what do i do 😭 chenchen is so sick and im scared 😭😭

[ for wenzhe, from lí chényǔ / @xiianxias ! ]

@xiianxias | annabel & lcy rip len's heart apart hours~

There's a lot Wenzhe associates Lí ChénYǔ to. Mostly things he doesn't want to speak out loud because they're romantic and flowery, dreamy and ridiculous. Certain hands and caresses of a musician, little habits and that contrasting cigarette, the tenderness of a good man coupled with the harshness of the world sitting on his back.

Eyes with enough in them to fill the basin of the sea stretching between this coast and the mainland. Tentative speech and the intelligence hiding behind the language barrier, broad shoulders nearly solely in the metaphorical sense because if his sleeves slip his arms are thin, a brother and father both, someone a thousand times better than Wenzhe will ever be without ever asking to be considered anything more than just capable enough to be allowed to continue being capable, that little smile and the Mandarin Wenzhe mouths after him and pretends it's not to imitate his lips.

Enough to get lost about, enough to lose focus during classes, enough to stop at corners and create connections between a busker he's not and the music he plays, between a drugstore and that terrible cough, between a restaurant and warm food he'd like his siblings to taste.

A whole lot of things.

He often forgets this part.

The cough. The look in those basins of the sea. The siblings. The hope. Careful. The sense of responsibility. The weight on those shoulders.

Wenzhe thinks of the beautiful man and the notes of one of the saddest instruments the world has created and too often doesn't associate its solemnity to its player.

Wenzhe almost walks into a pole.

In and out of a campus café where he works on his way back home, the food there isn't glamorous or gourmet, or even fresh at this hour, but it's soft and pastry, it's sweet, it's never as high-class as all Vienna has to offer in terms of chocolate and desserts, but it fills the stomach and makes sweet-tooth's sigh. Wenzhe doesn't quite know how to ask 'is it all right' and 'what do you like', so he forewent the mortification and just bought the damn thing.

If Lí ChénYǔ likes it, good, if he doesn't, mark it down for next time.

Now it feels heavy in his hands.

The call cuts too abruptly. He'd been too focused on not frowning at his screen, on ignoring the pain of slamming his shoulder into the pole to narrowly avoid it, on wrapping his mouth around the first syllables of 'what's wrong did something happen-' before Wendy beats him too it and knocks the words back off his tongue.

He tries not to panic. And almost sways with the relief at getting a text.

He didn't know what his brain had computed could have happened between Lí ChénYǔ's cough, Mandarin he doesn't understand, and Wendy suddenly disappearing off his screen. But if his heart races any faster, he'll lose it and his hair within the next 24 hours.

[ unsent text to | 😖😵‍💫🥺 ] i'm on my way, tell him if he tries to go out i'll

He halts in his power-walk and nearly slams into someone.

He'll what, exactly. They're not that close. Or… are they? No, they are. But… he'll what. What could he hold against him?

What can you hold against someone you want to give the world to?

He slams his phone onto his forehead and tries again.

[ text to | 😖😵‍💫🥺 ] i'm on my way, once i'm there i'll figure out how to help him, okay? thank you for calling me.

A frown.

[ text to | 😖😵‍💫🥺 ] you did well! always call me in situations like these, okay?

Or maybe… not?

He's jogging by the time he's decided he'll overthink it later, and by the time the alley's in sight, and his phone is stuck to his ear, he'll figure he'll be put back in his place soon enough, if Wendy picks up.

#xiianxias #the guilty;wenzhe #;answered #long post tw #tw long post #scREAMING and CRYING as the kids say GENERALLY NOT HAVING A GOOD TIME--#i mean evilly enough I AM i LOVE LOVE LOVE this and I LOVE LOVE LOVE LCY thank you for this #i'm subscribing to your writing eternally ♥ BUT ALSO #i hope this works~ YOU WROTE SUCH BEAUTIFUL PROSE to describe the environment and michael & wendy and well wenzhe's just #THINKING SO YKNOW i promise i'll properly have him react to the sight of the situation once he's BROKEN IN apparently i'm #setting up the VIBES maybe? IDK ANYWAYS also about the texting pls ignore the emojis #wenzhe used to save lcy on his phone it's wenzhe-emoji-talk for 'i have a crush and i'm about to lose my MIND-'#;queue #gosh i think the closer they grow the more wenzhe's interest in learning mandarin will be coupled with FEELINGS & FRUSTRATION #i'll elaborate on discy he's Something Else--

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