[ She rises, and it's practically an unvoiced assent. Before, it would've been effortlessly easy to reach out, curl his fingers through hers. Something he'd never have thought twice about. (A rarity in itself, since it's Hei's reflex to second-guess and overanalyze a gesture from every angle.) Now though ... Now everything seems to carry too much weight. Every small touch seems loaded with messages that could be misconstrued. In light of that, it's better to maintain a semblance of distance and neutrality. ]
[ He gestures Yin to follow him, down to the powdery white shores at the fringes of the island, where the ferry is moored at the salt-crisped dock. Gentle waves splash along the shore; he slips into one of the boats, before helping Yin in. ]
[ Ahead of them, a web of rainbow lights shape up into the outline of a city so different from the the one they've left behind -- yet not different at all. While the boat slices a path through the water, Hei breathes in the sea-scented air. Here, with Yin settled closeby, and an idle evening ahead, nowhere to go but out, it's easy to let a particular contentment seep into him. To feel, for a few deluded moments, as if he's where he's meant to be. ]
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[ He gestures Yin to follow him, down to the powdery white shores at the fringes of the island, where the ferry is moored at the salt-crisped dock. Gentle waves splash along the shore; he slips into one of the boats, before helping Yin in. ]
[ Ahead of them, a web of rainbow lights shape up into the outline of a city so different from the the one they've left behind -- yet not different at all. While the boat slices a path through the water, Hei breathes in the sea-scented air. Here, with Yin settled closeby, and an idle evening ahead, nowhere to go but out, it's easy to let a particular contentment seep into him. To feel, for a few deluded moments, as if he's where he's meant to be. ]