[ Mingjue moves his hand carefully, stroking his hand gently, tenderly, along the length of his spine. He wants to comfort Xichen, of course he does, but it's difficult when his anger and frustration is burning through him and makes him feel sharp, as wretched a blade as the one he carries.
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[ Mingjue moves his hand carefully, stroking his hand gently, tenderly, along the length of his spine. He wants to comfort Xichen, of course he does, but it's difficult when his anger and frustration is burning through him and makes him feel sharp, as wretched a blade as the one he carries.
Tilting his head, he sighs softly. ]
The library, I imagine. Your books.