[ to be honest, if that actually did happen, Jin Ling would glare at people, but even as a sect leader he can't control the flow of gossip. not that there would be anything to gossip about. they're friends, so honestly there shouldn't even be a problem. but this isn't some inn where people can share a bed for lack of space. it's the Carp Tower. there's no reason for him to keep Sizhui in his room for anything else than a friendly chat before sleep.
he doesn't want to feel the anxiousness, so he shifts to cross his arms over his chest, even as he's laying down, feeling defensive without reason and purses his lips. gods he's not fifteen anymore, he's almost of age, responsible for a whole sect on his own!
his mind is going a mile per minute and he mostly just feels jittery with the proximity and he wants to do something but he doesn't know what. or he'd prefer not to admit to himself that he'd like to press closer to Sizhui, enjoy the warmth radiating from the other young man and the thought makes his heart lurch into his throat. no. he's not going to blurt out something he'll regret saying, or something that'll ruin the friendship between them. sure, he's gotten better over the years, but he's still bad at friendship as a standard, still at loss sometimes and still afraid he'll somehow lose it.
so he doesn't act on it. doesn't think on it, or even admit to himself the feelings he's trying hard to squash. besides, it's not like Sizhu's interested in that way, so it's a bad idea, overall. he doesn't have the mental fortitude to figure it out, not without making an ass out of himself as a bonus. frankly, it's a miracle Sizhui is still his friend. but Jin Ling isn't going to complain. it's... the first friend he ever made, and he'd go through hell fire to keep it, if he could. no matter what he says outloud.
he's so lost in thought again that when Sizhui speaks up he almost starts and looks back at the other, eyes wide. his hand? what? again, it's probably not on purpose, but Jin Ling feels more acutely tune to the sound of his voice and did it have that timber before? either way it strikes something in his chest and he swallows a little. what's wrong with him tonight? ]
What? Why?
[ even as he asks, he slowly unfurls one hand from his chest and hold it out, albeit a little hesitantly. ]
no subject
he doesn't want to feel the anxiousness, so he shifts to cross his arms over his chest, even as he's laying down, feeling defensive without reason and purses his lips. gods he's not fifteen anymore, he's almost of age, responsible for a whole sect on his own!
his mind is going a mile per minute and he mostly just feels jittery with the proximity and he wants to do something but he doesn't know what. or he'd prefer not to admit to himself that he'd like to press closer to Sizhui, enjoy the warmth radiating from the other young man and the thought makes his heart lurch into his throat. no. he's not going to blurt out something he'll regret saying, or something that'll ruin the friendship between them. sure, he's gotten better over the years, but he's still bad at friendship as a standard, still at loss sometimes and still afraid he'll somehow lose it.
so he doesn't act on it. doesn't think on it, or even admit to himself the feelings he's trying hard to squash. besides, it's not like Sizhu's interested in that way, so it's a bad idea, overall. he doesn't have the mental fortitude to figure it out, not without making an ass out of himself as a bonus. frankly, it's a miracle Sizhui is still his friend. but Jin Ling isn't going to complain. it's... the first friend he ever made, and he'd go through hell fire to keep it, if he could. no matter what he says outloud.
he's so lost in thought again that when Sizhui speaks up he almost starts and looks back at the other, eyes wide. his hand? what? again, it's probably not on purpose, but Jin Ling feels more acutely tune to the sound of his voice and did it have that timber before? either way it strikes something in his chest and he swallows a little. what's wrong with him tonight? ]
What? Why?
[ even as he asks, he slowly unfurls one hand from his chest and hold it out, albeit a little hesitantly. ]