[Completed]
BOOK 2 OF WHERE I BELONG
-A Modern AU-
Seven years after the painful separation from his former lover, Wei Wuxian had determined to leave his past behind, except that the life he settled for wasn't really perfect. He had made up his mind...
I use our break to catch up on the work I missed. Which is . . . a lot.
Lan Zhan texted me once in a while during that time. He'd had to fly to London for some work the day after we decided on the break. I'm not with Uncle, he said and told me he'll explain when we meet. Both of us were pretty confident about 'getting back together'. But I guess this little time for ourselves was good for both of us.
He gained a lot of recognition with that project. I saw him in a few interviews on TV and even the trip to London had been for a lecture he was invited for by his college. The Young Jade of China, they called him, and I thought to myself, that's exactly what he is. Once I used to think he was head hard on business because his uncle made him. I was wrong. Hell, I was wrong.
There's one thing I didn't tell him. My residence for the past few days has been the studio. Unexplainably.
Ning's band members were on their exam week, and the schedule of the studio was empty, and I hated the idea of spending a week in a hotel alone—I was thinking why not. But I've been finding myself with new calluses on my left hand, and some scribbled notes on a stand. I don't know, I'm starting to feel comfortable around here. Is this what feels like to be set free?
I guess that's what made me suddenly say, "Cheng, what if I quit?"
Cheng glances up for a second through his glasses. "Has quitting become contagious?"
"I'm just asking," I tell him. "We've done this together since the day we started. Will you . . . be fine?" He gives me a look and I repeat, "Just asking."
He doesn't say anything for a long while. "If that's what you want, I don't get to stop you."
I don't deny it, he did sound halfhearted.
By midweek, I finally convince him to visit Qing with me. So on Friday night at the airport Cheng had his fingers on his mouth, torturing the poor nails. "This is a bad idea." He drops back on the metal chair, eyes on the ceiling above.
"I told you. You two need closure," I say, swiping through my phone. Of course, it's just an excuse. I just wanted him to meet her. The rest of it . . . they'll figure out.
"How the fuck is this your business?"
"When did we ever mind our own business, Cheng?" Which was the truth, and the thing that saved our asses sometimes, and that shuts him up, effectively.
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Well, the time off was a time off until I woke up the next day to find a text from Lan Zhan that gets me cursing at myself for teaching him to take mirror selfies. Half of his face was covered by the phone. Buttons down—he doesn't do that even in steaming summer. The god-like abs. Contrasting curves. What a reply for a simple how's the morning text.
