[ there's a reason its mental slander and not verbal slander.
as he finishes up, shang qinghua steps to the side to clean off his hands, reaching for the blanket he'd tossed over his lap earlier a bit carelessly. that should be it, then. his eyes track over to the fire in the fireplace that was keeping him from being an airplane-cicle, briefly glances back at mobei jun (who is taking his outer robe off), and looks mournfully back at the fire. shang qinghua mentally curses himself for coming up with such a cool, sexy idea as an ice demon with an ice palace, then uses a bit of cultivation magic to snuff out the fire. the temperature in the room drops near instantly. he's not sure where he's going to hang out now, because there are not nearly enough rooms in this frigid place that are friendly to him without his beloved fireplace...
...or, well, he's got somewhere to stay, apparently. shang qinghua blinks, a bit surprised, and watches as mobei jun moves out of the way to make space for him on his bed. it takes him a moment to process. everything has been so bizarre since--well, since lianfang-jun and that whole nightmare, but he's starting to come to terms with the fact that mobei jun may, in fact, actually consider them friends? kind of friends? ]
Aren't you hot? [ he counters back to the statement, but it's not an argument, or saying no. no, shang qinghua is not really in the business of saying no to mobei jun even with his newly earned (sort of?) confidence. he makes his way over to the bed anyway, wincing at the change in angle on his bad leg, then carefully lowers himself to a sitting position on the edge of the bed, swinging his bad leg around to rest it up on the covers. the furs on top of the bed have all been piled over on his side, and that nest seems awfully tempting with the cold prickling his spine.
he stays sitting up, watching mobei-jun's eyebrows for a change in expression. ]
no subject
as he finishes up, shang qinghua steps to the side to clean off his hands, reaching for the blanket he'd tossed over his lap earlier a bit carelessly. that should be it, then. his eyes track over to the fire in the fireplace that was keeping him from being an airplane-cicle, briefly glances back at mobei jun (who is taking his outer robe off), and looks mournfully back at the fire. shang qinghua mentally curses himself for coming up with such a cool, sexy idea as an ice demon with an ice palace, then uses a bit of cultivation magic to snuff out the fire. the temperature in the room drops near instantly. he's not sure where he's going to hang out now, because there are not nearly enough rooms in this frigid place that are friendly to him without his beloved fireplace...
...or, well, he's got somewhere to stay, apparently. shang qinghua blinks, a bit surprised, and watches as mobei jun moves out of the way to make space for him on his bed. it takes him a moment to process. everything has been so bizarre since--well, since lianfang-jun and that whole nightmare, but he's starting to come to terms with the fact that mobei jun may, in fact, actually consider them friends? kind of friends? ]
Aren't you hot? [ he counters back to the statement, but it's not an argument, or saying no. no, shang qinghua is not really in the business of saying no to mobei jun even with his newly earned (sort of?) confidence. he makes his way over to the bed anyway, wincing at the change in angle on his bad leg, then carefully lowers himself to a sitting position on the edge of the bed, swinging his bad leg around to rest it up on the covers. the furs on top of the bed have all been piled over on his side, and that nest seems awfully tempting with the cold prickling his spine.
he stays sitting up, watching mobei-jun's eyebrows for a change in expression. ]