[wei wuxian takes both of jin ling's hands in his, thumbs kneading small circles at the meat of jin ling's palms. they're strong hands, but still smooth, not hard-callused by the constant draw of a sword.
may these hands never kill, wei wuxian prays, silently, as he massages the other's knuckles.]
Your hands are soft. That's not an insult, before you get offended - it's good, actually. you don't have a lot of control yet, though.
[wei wuxian folds two fingers on each hand, pushes them tight against the palm until the nails turn white at the quick.]
Hold your fingers closer together. Do you feel the muscles straining?
[ He’s offended. Of course he’s offended. His mouth is half way open to snap at Wei Wuxian that his hands are perfectly hard, thank you very much, but instead he just scowls a bit as his uncle continues.
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may these hands never kill, wei wuxian prays, silently, as he massages the other's knuckles.]
Your hands are soft. That's not an insult, before you get offended - it's good, actually. you don't have a lot of control yet, though.
[wei wuxian folds two fingers on each hand, pushes them tight against the palm until the nails turn white at the quick.]
Hold your fingers closer together. Do you feel the muscles straining?
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Grumbling: ]
Yeah, I feel it. So what?