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The Wolvendom boy has no right to be this cute, Chongyun thinks.
For a boy raised and loved fiercely by wolves and, in turn, is just as fierce and protective over the ones he deeply cares about, one would never expect a confused and unguarded expression from him. A slight pout making its way on his face, when faced with things he does not understand. Usually it would be snarls and growls making his body taut with undisguised wariness towards the unknown. All bark and a mean bite to back it up.
But today is different.
Today there isn’t any imminent danger because it’s just Chongyun patiently explaining to Razor what chilies are and why he doesn’t like them. It became a common occurrence for them, to just talk and train sometimes whenever their paths or errands gives them a chance to bump into each other along the way.
Seeing Razor look so lost at trying his best to understand what he was talking about makes something warm bloom in Chongyun’s normally pale cheeks. There's a tiny force pulling at his mouth and he can't stop it from overtaking his face.
No.
Think of ice. Cold, unfeeling ice. A frosty cage made of rigid rules and structure, keeping unnecessary thoughts away. He embraces comfort in the cold because that's all he's ever known. All that he's ever need.
But then Razor gives him a stare so piercing and electrifying that Chongyun suddenly feels like he’s melting and he cannot look away.
“W-what is it? Is there something on my face?”
Silent wonder shines in Razor’s ruby red eyes.
“First time I saw you smile,” Razor simply replies.
Chongyun hears the ice cage crack as the same warmth from before travels from his face straight down his chest, making it hard to breathe.
“Ahaha? R-really?” It's because I trained myself not to and yet you make it so hard. But he bites his tongue because it’s not Razor's fault. It's his.
A nod. “I think you should smile more. Very pretty.”
As if to demonstrate, Razor smiles back and it’s all teeth and fangs and squinted eyes and why is he so good to me—
Oh.
Oh.
Chongyun is definitely melting now. His whole body is on fire and it’s turning his limbs into liquid jelly. There’s something wrong with him and he doesn’t know anything anymore.
Unfair, he screams in his head. You’re the pretty one.
Razor blinks. “Thank you.”
Oh. My. Archon.
“I said it out loud, didn’t I?” he whines, covering his face in utter embarrassment. He just wants to curl up and beg the earth to swallow him whole.
Razor is having none of his antics, though, and impatiently grabs one of the hands in front of his face and gives it a firm tug. ”Come. Show me the spicy red fruit you were talking about.”
Warm.
Everything about Razor is so warm and vibrant and alive.
He’s so used to spirits and all things undead that having someone breathing warmth and comfort into his frigid fingers sends goosebumps throughout his entire body.
Chongyun is certain that he’s emitting yang energy for miles and right now he does not care.
For the first time in a long while, the usually deadpan exorcist throws caution to the wind and lets out a defiant smile.
“Alright, alright! Let’s go.”
As Chongyun expected, everything was peaceful that day. No spirits in sight.
To his surprise, the exorcist finds that he does not mind.
(Something takes root in Chongyun’s heart that day and it makes him gently squeeze back at the sure hand holding him, never letting go.)