Sit Softly On Your Shoulder

Chapter 15: Permission Allowed

Lan Zhan watches the fifth nurse scurry away like a tasered cockroach after Uncle Qiren, who is more annoyed today than usual, gives them his honest opinion on his next course of action. Hence, the scurrying away. She's no doubt gone to fetch someone higher up the hierarchy to talk some sense into the stubborn old goat (affectionate).

The doctors and the care staff in this new hospice are saints, and that's Lan Zhan's own opinion, but as long as they serve themselves up as a buffer between himself and his Uncle, Lan Zhan isn't going to put his foot in it.

Though now, he hasn't got much choice because it's just the two of them in this rather nice single room, complete with a television screen mounted on the wall and several books and a remote control lying untouched on the moveable table right next to the older man.

The older, scowling man.

Lan Zhan quickly busies himself on his phone. The device is currently hugely lacking in something, and there's only one person who can help him.

Lan Zhan: Send me pictures of Wei Ying. But natural ones. Not when he's posing for the camera.

Mianmian: Why?

Lan Zhan: YOU work for ME.

Mianmian: What's the magic word?

Lan Zhan: Sorry, I'm with Uncle. Please. Can you send me pictures?

Mianmian: Ha, don't make me laugh. It's not, please. £. Because we're in the UK.

Lan Zhan: I pay you enough.

Mianmian: This is extra, though. Check my contract.

Lan Zhan sighs heavily.

Lan Zhan: How much do you want?

Mianmian: £50.00

Lan Zhan: Done.

Mianmian: Per picture.

Lan Zhan: That's daylight robbery.

Mianmian: And? Do you want them or not? That's the real question, because we both know you can afford it.

Lan Zhan: Fine.

"If you're going to spend time with me, I would appreciate your attention." Uncle Qiren says, cuttingly.

Lan Zhan obediently puts away his phone. He does not wince when it vibrates against his thigh multiple times. Damn...he should've given her a number. A limit.

"Sorry, Shushu. I did not mean to be rude." Lan Zhan offers, trying not to wince.

His phone keeps emitting the muffled buzz of incoming notifications. At this rate, he'll have to fork out hundreds of pounds.

"And yet." Uncle Qiren gestures towards Lan Zhan's hidden phone with his good hand. "Is that to do with your mother's shop?"

"Mn."

It's not exactly a lie since Wei Ying works there. But Lan Zhan does regret not having taken any pictures of his own, of Wei Ying and his beautiful hands, his lovely face, and possibly even recording his laugh now that there's a solid drought of it. He misses Wei Ying with such ferocity, having taken his presence for granted during the time they were together. He misses that faint trace of cinnamon and wildflowers, a scent that he has discovered is unique to Wei Ying only. He misses the way Wei Ying hugs him, how he fits against Lan Zhan's chest just right. As if that space was always meant to hold only him. He misses the softness of him, not just the physical part, but how Wei Ying allows, no, encourages Lan Zhan to be himself.

"Humph."

Lan Zhan looks up, a little dazed at having been brought out of his Wei Ying shaped daydream.