To Make You Mine

Sparks Of Unknown

The days following up to the coronation day left in hurry, filled with music, dance, and sports. 

Everyone awed at the way the crown prince single handedly defeated all of the contestants in the hand to hand combat. 

As if a mighty hero or a martial god from folklores has come to grace his people. Wearing only fitted trousers and boots, upper body bare, smeared in dry mud, hair in a tight updo, still wisps of hair flowing here and there,Wei Wuxian flexes his arms to relieve the strain from them before pouncing on his next competitor. 

Thousands of eyes watch the scene unfold infront of them, drooling and gasping from too much display of skin and easy strength. When Wei Wuxian grabbed the waist of his opponent and flipped him backward, bending his whole body in a beautiful strong arch, effectively subduing the man under the weight of his body, winning the round . Everyone's eyes got fixed on the rippling abs. And surely enough, one of them was Lan Wangji.

Sitting beside his father , he was watching the match with unblinking eyes. Lan Xichen too has participated in other sports but not in combat matches, these are not his criteria. While General Mingjue is fully enjoying the kick boxing match, which is going on at the other side of the ground. 

But Lan Wangji is not watching any of these, his eyes are transfixed on a single figure. 

Whenever the prince receives a blow his hands clenched the material of his robes unconsciously. 

He can almost sense a feral aura emitting from the man in question. The prince is fighting with prowess, neatly striking or dodging his opponents  but there is a hunger in him! His eyes glints red, a low growl escaping now and then, circling his opponent as predators measures their prays, it is evident from the irritated roll of shoulder or impatience huffs from the crown prince, how he throws aside another person that he needs everyone to submit in defeat to him, to satiate his hunger. He is like a starving predator deprived of his food for long, and ready to snap the prey in half! 

 Lan Wangji is almost breathless by the end of the match, the intensity of the competition is entirely new for him to witness. Never in his life have he seen this much skin in private let alone in public! Not only that but the ferocity of the fighters, the savagery of this combatants skills is entirely new to his young mind. 

GusuLan has always been restrictive in their training . Their clan is mostly of scholers and artists. The members of the main family of course learn martial arts, and excel in it but they do not study wrestling or combats as fighting style,this kind of skills are familiar to Nies.

Only relying on one's physical strength to battle through takes copious amounts of strength, skill, flexibility, agility and quick decision making quality. Neither the fighters are lanky in appearance but they all have that certain kind of flexibility gain from practice. Despite not being well versed in combat skills other than basics, Lan Wangji can tell the fundamentals depending on his instincts. 

This newness horrifies him as well as entices him equally. Adrenaline courses through his blood, heath blooms in his lower belly, sweat breaks under the collar, his open hair suddenly irritating and sticky at the nape, he wishes to keep it away, to let some cool breeze to alleviate the discomfort,but cannot comply. 

He can feel his death grip on the crumpled robe by the time the men are cheering the crown prince for coming out as the winner, they were brutally beaten by the same man minutes ago, also they didn't withhold their punches thrown at the crown prince. But still they seem cheery for their prince. 

Lan Wangji's eyes were fixated on the same man without him knowing. A servant offered him a wet cloth to clean the mud, the crown prince thanked him and started to clean his face and neck as much as is possible. Little by little the wide forehead, sharp eyes, and elegant nose become free of the dust, he trailed his hand down to dust over his chiseled chest. His pheromones starting to get normal, head clearing of that feral intent, the good mood of victory settling in his bones, when he sensed the eyes on him.