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Wei Ying stands across from Lan Wangji, his dark hair blowing in wisps across his face. He grips the reigns of Little Apple in one hand, loosely toying with Chenqing in his other. He is simply standing there, idle, staring at Wangji... holding his gaze, like this is the last time he'll be able to for a long while.

Something tightens in Wangji's chest—a swollen, sickening ache. He clenches his teeth to stifle the pain.

"I'm heading that way," Wei Ying points his flute in the direction of the path that Wangji is standing in. Points straight past Wangji's eyes. He seems so careless, even in a fragile moment like right now. So carefree...

Which is it? Careless or carefree? Wangji has never been able to tell.

Wangji raises his own hand in a stiff gesture, towards where Wei Ying is standing. He mutters, "This way, for me."

Wei Ying nods. And then his entire demeanour shifts. He is smiling, but it's not the same smile that Wangji is used to. Wei Wuxian can laugh easily when he's in almost any mood, whether it be relaxed, energised, cheeky. His eyes would gleam like starlight. They even crinkle at the corners. By nature, Wei Wuxian's smile is gentle and sweet—but through years of inbred mischief, Wei Ying has painted himself a palette grins to pick from, which range from devilish, to rude, to charming...

This smile, though.

The smile that takes hold of Wei Ying's facial muscles now seems dull, stiff, strained. Wangji swears there are tears in his eyes.

"Well... I'll get going then," Wei Ying says, and his voice sounds surprisingly normal. He is the first one to make a move—he takes a step forward, tugging Little Apple behind him. He starts to manoeuvre past Wangji on the path, twisting his torso to fit smoothly.

Wangji stiffens.

Wei Ying passes.

In that one, single moment, a surge of adrenaline as strong as all the seas rushes through Wangji's bloodstream, tearing through his veins and his heart. In that one moment he is tempted to forget everything. Drop his title, drop his past, drop his reputation and whatever whatnot expectations his clan holds for him... for that single moment, the only real thing Wangji wants is Wei Ying. Wei Ying. Tousled dark hair. Teasing, cunning smile. Barking, bantering words. Wei Ying and his flute that plays more melodious sounds than Wangji has ever heard. Wei Ying who is kind, who is selfless for all that he loves. Wei Ying who doesn't give a shit what other people think, because he knows what he wants and he knows who he is; and he will happily walk his single-log road until night falls...

Wei Ying.

Wei Ying who stirs passions and emotions in Wangji like he's never felt before.

In the spur of so much feeling, it takes  Wangji a minute to realise he's out of breath. He wasn't aware that his breathing had been cut off—his heartbeat motionless and clogged in his throat, suffocating him. His thoughts are scattered like the wind, his emotions glaring out of control. Wangji knows that the dark-haired ranger continues down the path that has already led out of his sight.

Is it too late?

That thought scares him more than anything. He wants to turn around, to look at him one last time... but something stops him. Xichen, in his head. The Lan Clan rules, in his head.

So Wangji just waits. He doesn't know what he's waiting for, but he waits and waits and waits. Maybe he's hoping Wei Ying will stop in his tracks and turn back. Maybe he's waiting for Wei Ying to change his mind, suddenly insist that he wants stay in Cloud Recesses, with him. Maybe he's waiting for Wei Ying to turn around; look at him with those eyes; step towards him, and kiss

Wangji doesn't let himself finish that thought.

A long moment passes.

The sound of footsteps fade out of earshot; the tinkling, jingling sound of a donkey's presence ringing through the air, echoing, until it seems like it was never there in the first place. By the time Wangji finally lets himself turn around—his eyes blurred with tears—Wei Ying and Little Apple are merely ghosts of a time that can never be touched again.

this changes everything. ⟲ wangxianWhere stories live. Discover now