Chapter Text
Wei Wuxian is arrogant, mischievous, and beautiful.
His uncle hates him and Wangji wishes he could too.
Wei Wuxian is arrogant, mischievous, and beautiful and Wangji is in love with him and desperately wishes he wasn’t, and that is how regret blossoms inside of him. One painful, love-struck day at a time.
Regret comes up from his throat as a white rose.
“Wangji, please,” his brother pleads, wiping Wangji’s bloody lips with a white handkerchief, “Tell me who it is – I’m sure… I can’t imagine…”
It’s rare that his brother is ever at a loss for words, but watching Wangji slowly drown to death in flowers would inspire silence in anybody.
Wangji hands the white flower to his brother. I cannot, the flower says in his stead. He closes his eyes then and dream horrible dreams. Dreams of red ribbons and dark hair and lips that stretch into a smile too beautiful to look at outright. Dreams of long fingers and dark eyes and a laughter that sounds too much like music.
He wakes with a gasp, a name he wishes he didn’t know on his lips, and regret blossoming in his chest.
Why him, he thinks despondently. Of all the people in the world – why him? He breaks rules and laughs in the face of tradition and his uncle hates him.
Most importantly, he would never love Wangji.
Wangji is dour and boring and inflexible. How could someone so lively and beautiful love him back?
White columbines spill from his lips as he sits up.
Foolishness – of course. Foolish to fall in love. Foolish to not know his place. Foolish, foolish, foolish. And for his foolishness, he will die.
The door opens and his brother walks in, behind him walks in Wangji’s biggest regret.
Wei Wuxian.
“Brother!” he rasps, shock running through him. He can barely taste the blood that is flooding in his mouth. Can barely take his eyes off of Wei Wuxian.
Wei Wuxian’s eyes are red rimmed and his face is pale. He looks tired and pained and his eyebrows knit up in worry as he looks down at Wangji.
Wangji wants to tell him to go away, wants to tell him to avert his eyes, wants to tell him that this is all his fault and can’t he give Wangji this? Can’t he let Wangji keep what little dignity he has left? This situation is embarrassing enough as it is. To have the man responsible for his condition watching him with those pitiful eyes is almost too much. Wangji can’t stand it.
His brother kneels beside him. “You whispered his name in your sleep,” he whispers, to Wangji’s eternal embarrassment, “Please, Wangji. Do not let yourself die over this.” And what does his brother expect of doing this? Wangji can’t make someone love him – his brother can’t force Wei Wuxian to love him. Wangji knows this because if love was something that could be controlled, Wangji would not be in love with Wei Wuxian.
Wangji opens his mouth to say this, but instead of words, striped carnations fall out.
Wei Wuxian steps forward then, and picks them up from the floor.
“Regret,” Wei Wuxian says, a soft, sad smile on his face. He holds the flower in his hands as if it something precious and not something that is killing Wangji slowly.
He looks from the flower to Wangji and gods, Wangji wishes he could hate him.
“Now it makes sense,” he says, and that god-awful smile is still on his face. Why does he look so sad? “Xichen-xiong told me of your disease and said maybe the object of your affections might be me…”
Wei Wuxian moves to take a seat at the foot of Wangji’s bed. He places the striped carnation down on the sheets and the blood on their petals fall down to stain the white sheets.
“And I wondered how that could be,” Wei Wuxian continues, his eyes warm on Wangji, his face still as sad as Wangji has ever seen it, “because if the person you love is me, you would not have this disease, because… because your feelings would not be unrequited.”
The air seems to still around Wangji.
Wangji feels like he might not be in his body. Feels a strange sort of dissonance between his head and his body. He can’t be hearing this correctly – there must be something he’s missing, because – because Wei Wuxian would never…
Wei Wuxian turns to look at Xichen, his smile turning into something apologetic.
“Wangji is not sick because of unrequited feelings, Xichen-xiong,” he says, “He’s sick because he’s in love with someone he doesn’t want to be in love with.”
No, Wangji wants to say – but nothing comes out, because to deny what Wei Wuxian is saying would be to lie.
“Wangji is this true?” his brother turns to ask him.
Wangji opens his mouth and a purple bittersweet falls out.
Wei Wuxian watches it fall onto the sheets with a sort of resignation in his eyes.
“Truth,” he mutters softly.
Wangji understands now that what he’s seeing on Wei Wuxian’s face is heartbreak. He doesn’t know what to do at that moment. His fingers feel cold and his heart seems have become liquid in his chest and is sloshing over his insides like boiling water – burning everything.
Wei Wuxian cocks his head to the side and gives Wangji the apologetic smile he gave to Xichen.
“Luckily, the cure is the same, no matter what the reason,” he says. He shifts, and crawls over Wangji, until Wangji has to lean back because Wei Wuxian’s face is too close to his.
He feels self-conscious for the first time in his life. Sickly and sweaty and too ugly to be looked upon by… beautiful Wei Wuxian.
Wei Wuxian’s finger comes up under his chin to tip Wangji’s face up towards him.
“Think of this as medicine,” he whispers, his eyes dark and deep and sad, “One kiss to save two lives.”
Two? is all Wangji has time to wonder before soft lips are on his.
It feels like… like salvation.
Soft lips breathe life into his and the aching regret in his chest unfurls little by little until Wangji can finally breathe for the first time in months.
It feels like salvation and Wangji is greedily taking it in before he is conscious of what he’s doing. His lips are moving on their own, his teeth nipping at the plush lips on his and – oh fuck.
It’s over all too soon – Wangji left gazing dizzily up at Wei Wuxian.
Wei Wuxian pushes Wangji down so that he’s laying down, slips something in Wangji’s hand and folds Wangji’s fingers over it.
“Sorry,” he whispers – and why is he sorry? Wangji doesn’t understand. Everything feels slow, his thoughts, his body, his hearing. It feels like he’s moving through water.
Wei Wuxian is moving off of him and Wangji wants to grab him, but his body is exhausted and relieved that it can finally breathe and Wei Wuxian is gone before Wangji can do so much as move a finger.
“Don’t worry, Xichen-xiong,” he hears Wei Wuxian say, “he’ll be fine now.”
And Wangji knows that Wei Wuxian is telling the truth. Wangji will be fine.
“Thank you, Wei-gongzi,” his brother breathes – and Wangji wishes he could open his eyes because he wants to know what sort of expression is on Wei Wuxian’s face. “Would you like a bed made here? Or a room?”
A bed here, Wangji wants to answer for Wei Wuxian.
“No need,” Wei Wuxian says instead, “I better get going.”
And… and where is Wei Wuxian going? He shouldn’t go anywhere… Wangji needs to tell him…
Sleep drags Wangji into its dark arms before Wangji can even finish the thought.
He dreams awful dreams. Dreams of sad smiles and sad eyes and goodbyes. Dreams of soft lips whispering apologies and dreams of a man walking away from him and Wangji wants to scream but he can’t because his throat is torn apart by flowers and…
He awakes with a gasp – his chest expanding in a way it hasn’t been able to in months.
“Wangji!” his brother says, helping him up and bringing a cup of water to his lips.
“Brother,” Wangji says – and it’s almost strange to hear his own voice again.
Xichen’s shoulders sag just a little as if relieved. “Thank goodness,” his brother sighs.
Wangji looks around the room, “Where is Wei Wuxian?” he asks.
“Don’t worry,” Xichen says, and why would Wangji be worried? “Wei-gongzi has already left. You do not have to see him.”
It doesn’t quite make sense. Do not have to? But what if Wangji wants to? Because… Wangji wants to. He wants to see him.
The question must show on Wangji’s face because Xichen’s brows furrow.
“It will be easier for you to get over him if he is away,” Xichen says slowly, “Uncle has already reached out to arrange meetings for you with other eligible ladies and masters. Don’t worry, Wangji, you will be over Wei-gongzi soon enough.”
Wangji feels confused. Feels lost and unmoored. Adrift in an ocean he had gone to sleep anchored in.
Wangji doesn’t have the words to answer his brother – doesn’t even understand his own feelings at the moment. He needs time. He needs… he needs…
He remembers Wei Wuxian slipping something into his hand.
He brings his hand up and unfurls his fingers.
Inside is a blue Forget-me-not.
Two, Wei Wuxian had said. Two lives.
… And he had left…
Suddenly Wangji is desperate to see him. Desperate to ask, “did you want to leave?”
“If I asked, would you stay?”