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It's like getting punched. Jiang Cheng would have never guessed being wanted hurts. He expected warmth, calmness, something he could call understanding. He hoped for peace.
Instead, what he gets is gut-wrenching rage, disgust crawling under his skin, hatred boiling his blood and burning. He can't understand, what or why or how — in fact, he is so dizzy he can't even ask any questions. His body is trembling, the world is spinning. The floor was stolen from under his feet by a boy with a vermilion mark on his forehead.
I wanted it to be you.
It's like—
Jiang Cheng is disarmed. His fists curl by his sides and at the same time, the fight leaves him. He is angry, unimaginably angry, uncontrollably angry, and yet all he can do is listen to the fast thumping of his heart as Jin Zixuan glares at him.
There was no reason for him to say it and yet he did. Jiang Cheng was cornered, is cornered, by the Young Master of the Jin clan who has nothing to with him anymore. Because A-jie is no longer betrothed to him. Because Jin Zixuan shouldn't have a reason to talk to Jiang Cheng ever again.
For a second, Jiang Cheng wishes Wei Wuxian was here.
Had he been here, Jin Zixuan wouldn't have gotten any closer. They wouldn't be standing face to face in a silence that was uncomfortable for the wrong, wrong reasons. Maybe Wei Wuxian wouldn't hesitate like Jiang Cheng does; he would laugh, and lash out, and punch Jin Zixuan bloody just like he deserves.
But Jiang Cheng is alone and when he is alone he is terrible; even when he tries not to be he still is. Jiang Cheng only lets the emotions flood him. His heart, weak and covered in rough edges, jumps inside his chest like the disobedient little thing it is.
"Is this," he chokes out, "Are you—"
"It's the truth," Jin Zixuan says.
And he sounds so sure, so stubborn, absolute. His eyes seem cold but there are furious flames of resolution reflected on them.
And Jiang Cheng's breath hitches.
He doesn't understand the wave of relief washing over him when he hears those words. He tries to repress it, to overwhelm it under the memory of Jin Zixuan's scorn towards the sister he loves so much, and mostly, he is successful. The idea of being wanted by a peacock who doesn't want her is repulsive.
But there is something, like a bad taste that he can't get rid of— in the back of his mind, whispering by his nape is a voice that hisses truths he shouldn't consider:
He wants Jiang Cheng.
Jin Zixuan's fair features are covered in a deep blush that reaches the tips of his ears and Jiang Cheng aches with the need to do anything, whatever it is, as his own cheeks start heating up. He takes a step, raising his hand because it itches to reach out, because Jiang Cheng itches to touch and be touched and to find out something he didn't think he'd be allowed to have. Before he can get any closer, Jin Zixuan flinches.
Jiang Cheng freezes.
Jin Zixuan's eyes skim over their surroundings — another empty, deadly quiet hallway of Gusu — and when they settle back on Jiang Cheng, they are overflowing with determination.
Jiang Cheng's hand hangs stupidly between them like an ugly, rejected piece of meat, and it would have probably stayed like that if it wasn't for Jin Zixuan moving closer and brushing his knuckles over Jiang Cheng's.
A burst of energy strikes his arm, then spreads over his body in a pleasant buzz. He stares at their hands, the careful touch of their fingers as they lace together in a loose hold — Jin Zixuan is cold, he notes, as he marvels at the contrast of his tan against that jade-white complexion. Jiang Cheng feels like he is solving a riddle, putting piece by piece together and unraveling something that he doesn't quite get, but already finds it beautiful.
It is beautiful, beautiful, and of course, nothing beautiful should belong to him.
It should be A-jie, he thinks, and then he looks up to find Jin Zixuan flushed an even deeper red.
It should, it should, it should — and yet he can't help that repulsive little spark of satisfaction inside of him. It's good to be the one who is wanted for a change.