[ The spilled ink is a rich, royal purple color, made in part from iris petals. He'd mixed in a few other things to give it a shimmery, almost metallic hue, but ultimately it's nothing he can't easily replicate. He has irises growing just outside, in full bloom.
So he smiles wanly at Bolin as he covers the other man's hand with his own. ]
no subject
So he smiles wanly at Bolin as he covers the other man's hand with his own. ]
It's just been a long day. Not your fault.