aroceu's ficLan Zhan picks up the joint from the ashtray at his bedside and lights it in his mouth. Wei Ying turns at the sound of the click of the lighter and brightens. “Gimme,” he says, as Lan Zhan takes his pull.
Lan Zhan hands it over, mesmerized as Wei Ying drags through the cherry, eyes heavy and hazing over as he exhales. “There,” he says, and then sticks the joint back into Lan Zhan’s mouth. “All yours.”