Chapter Text
Jiang Wanyin has been in love with Lan Xichen for as long as he can remember. The why and how falling at the back of his mind at every interaction, bundling and blooming into the deepest parts of his heart, roots grappling and holding him hostage, consuming him whole.
He didn’t love Lan Xichen as he was. Wouldn’t even dare say he harbored any special feelings towards him the first time they met. Lan Xichen was easy on the eyes, has a gentle air about him. But that was all Jiang Wanyin bothered to notice.
That was years ago.
They shared a class together back in college. An elective Jiang Wanyin didn’t realize was intended for the higher years until he was actually there, sitting among unfamiliar faces.
“You look lost,” A satchel was placed on the table near him, a man sitting beside him seconds after. “Are you lost?”
Jiang Wanyin looked at the man’s small smile. Gentle, easy. “I belong here.”
“On your own will?”
Jiang Wanyin sighed. “I didn’t realize it’s for the old people.”
The man sniggered, “We’ll blame it on fate then.”
Fate made them end up in the same group. Had to work together on a project, needed to spend countless late nights to finish reports.
In between their many always-changing conversations to first fill in the awkwardness, and then actually enjoy exchanging thoughts, Jiang Wanyin started listening and observed one thing constant: Jin Guangyao.
Jiang Wanyin was unfazed, having been used to his older brother’s many stories about his lover. If anything, he was fascinated with how infatuated Lan Xichen seemed to be with this childhood friend. Lan Xichen told Jiang Wanyin details he doesn’t care about but doesn’t mind knowing.
That A-Yao always meets him on the weekends to catch up, even if their universities were cities apart. That A-Yao liked a certain cafe just northeast of this famous statue by the train station. That A-Yao was always kind and gentle, understanding. Jiang Wanyin was sure that if he asked, Lan Xichen would see no fault in this man.
One day, he actually asked.
“So according to you, he’s an angel?”
Lan Xichen’s silence was something he did not anticipate. Jiang Wanyin thought he would say “Yes!” automatically with the many praises he sang about this A-Yao.
“He’s not,” Lan Xichen subconsciously put his hands on his hips. He has a tendency to do that whenever he’s despondent. “He has many flaws.”
“But you still love him?”
“Yeah.”
Ah, Jiang Wanyin thought, He really loves him.
Jiang Wanyin thought that it was nice to know someone who was so open – so willingly vulnerable in front of him – without the expectation of him doing the same.
“Then why don’t you confess?” Wanyin suddenly blabbered one night. He couldn’t remember the precedents that lead up to that question, why he had the urge to ask.
They were on Lan Xichen’s floor, sorting out the pile of printed papers they needed to put together for their submission.
Being in close proximity to Lan Xichen by this time has become second nature. Still, Jiang Wanyin maintained a respectable distance. He liked Lan Xichen’s company, but he was nevertheless an acquaintance. Even if Jiang Wanyin knew more than he should about the other.
With Lan Xichen always around his radar also came the habit of observing to quench his curiosity. At first, it was how Lan Xichen managed to get high grades when he never wrote notes in class. Then, it was why Lan Xichen always used a blue pen and never black. Inevitably, the hows and whys gradually didn’t matter.
Jiang Wanyin staring at him a minute too long to notice things he didn’t before became the usual too; as drifting white clouds are against the blue sky. Jiang Wanyin became a treasure cove of random information about Lan Xichen. Like how Lan Xichen prefers wearing vests over long sleeves. Or that he always put his satchel on his right shoulder, never on the left. Little, trivial things that made Jiang Cheng understand Lan Xichen a bit better.
Tonight too, Jiang Wanyin made an observation: Lan Xichen looking disheveled annoyed him for some reason. Not annoyed at Lan Xichen, no. It was just a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Lan Xichen always looked so prim and proper. Not a hair misplaced, even with the obvious lack of sleep college life would demand of anyone.
Jiang Wanyin thought that Lan Xichen, with folded legs against the carpeted floor, looking pale, bags under his eyes, donning a matching crumpled polo and slacks, doesn’t look quite right.
“I did.”
Amidst his sudden wondering, he almost forgot his earlier question. “Oh?” Jiang Wanyin wasn’t sure what to add to that.
He would usually answer with a remark dripping with sarcasm. He would usually expect Lan Xichen to grin and chuckle. Show him his usual even-tempered smile. But not now. Not on this particular night. Not about this subject.
Jiang Wanyin didn’t say more, was trying to urge Lan Xichen to add something to his answer. Why didn’t it work out? Why are you still friends?
Why are you hurting?
“It’s getting late, I’ll have the last section sorted out. Go home before you miss the last bus.”
Jiang Wanyin felt a pang in his heart, a squeeze he wasn’t familiar with when he saw Lan Xichen avert his eyes and desperately kept the smile on his face.
That’s not Lan Xichen’s smile.
Why are you still hurting?
Jiang Wanyin stood up, told Lan Xichen he would see him tomorrow.
He never asked any of those questions out loud.
Years passed and Lan Xichen became permanent in Jiang Wanyin’s life. He still told him stories about his A-Yao.
By their third year of knowing each other, Jiang Wanyin was still, generally, indifferent about it. Although… it was getting… repetitive. The kind of repetitiveness that was now beginning to get old because nothing ever changes.
The kind of repetitiveness that could make anyone slightly angry.
And if Jiang Wanyin was being honest, he was… getting irked by this A-Yao.
He has never seen him, no, never asked for pictures from Lan Xichen as well. There was no reason he should anyway. He doesn’t want to put a face to someone he was annoyed with.
Why was he annoyed?
Because this Jin Guangyao doesn’t seem willing to let Lan Xichen go. Doesn’t seem willing to let Lan Xichen deal with reality.
If you don’t feel the same for someone, but you care for them deeply, why don’t you let them go? To heal? To start their life? To move on?
This A-Yao was very selfish.
Jiang Wanyin often got mad for Lan Xichen these days.
“Isn’t he being selfish?” Jiang Wanyin said out of the blue one dreary afternoon as they were walking the university grounds. Lan Xichen didn’t have any new stories about Jin Guangyao that particular day. But Jiang Wanyin’s mind was stuck on Lan Xichen’s… situation.
Evidently, Lan Xichen was confused. They were just talking about a new bakery that opened by the corner.
“Selfish?” Tilting his head to the side a bit and peering up at Jiang Wanyin with curious eyes, Lan Xichen furrowed his eyebrows in puzzlement. “Who?”
Jiang Wanyin bit down on his lip. How could he explain it without feeling like he was intruding in Lan Xichen’s personal affairs? How could he make it so it doesn’t seem like he was trying to control his feelings about another?
Why does Jiang Wanyin care in the first place?
After years of spending most of their time together, Lan Xichen was no longer just an acquaintance. Surely, he would understand if Jiang Wanyin tried to explain, right? “You’re my… friend –”
It was the first time Jiang Wanyin called Lan Xichen as such, and the delight on Lan Xichen’s face made him flare with embarrassment. “Stop looking at me so fondly.”
“But I am fond of you.”
Jiang Wanyin only rolled his eyes. “Not as fond as you are with your A-Yao.”
Lan Xichen had the audacity to smirk. “Do you want to take his place?”
Jiang Wanyin made a disgusted face. “I don’t want to be as selfish as him.”
Lan Xichen only chuckled at him. “I’m the selfish one.” A faint sigh, “I can’t get myself to let go of him so I desperately try to be by his side.”
Jiang Wanyin completely forgot the point he was trying to make that afternoon.
After another year, stories about Jin Guangyao dwindled. Jiang Wanyin noticed, like he always does, but didn’t ask. He shouldn’t meddle with Lan Xichen’s personal relationships anyway.
Jiang Wanyin pushed it at the back of his mind. Was waiting for the next time Lan Xichen would mention the ever-kind and ever-understanding Jin Guangyao. To pick up where he left off. To giddily tell him something so little his childhood friend did but made Lan Xichen smile for the whole day.
One day, Jiang Wanyin realized that all talks about Jin Guangyao stopped.
He initially assumed that maybe they had a misunderstanding, and Lan Xichen doesn’t want to talk about him for a moment. It wouldn’t be the first time it happened.
But it was the first month Jin Guangyao’s name didn’t come out of Lan Xichen’s mouth.
At Lan Xichen’s graduation party, three months after he stopped talking about Jin Guangyao altogether, Jiang Wanyin finally let the question slip: “How come you’re not mentioning your A-Yao anymore?”
They were on the hotel’s balcony, with the party ongoing in one of the halls. Jiang Wanyin wasn’t sure how they ended up here, crowded by the railings, shoulders and arms pressed together to battle the frigid wind.
But they did, cans of beers in their hands, watching the traffic below.
The air was rancid, the smoke from below climbing up and clinging to their suits. The breeze was harsh, forcing Jiang Wanyin to close his eyes momentarily.
“He moved abroad. Said he’ll marry.”
Jiang Wanyin opened his eyes, unintentionally wide out of surprise. Lan Xichen’s voice was carried by the wind, almost inaudible with the cars below and the music from the hotel hall.
He glanced at Lan Xichen, afraid he would see the sadness in the older man's eyes.
But it was dark, and Jiang Wanyin didn't have the courage to meet his eyes to search for that sadness.
Eventually, Jiang Wanyin averted his eyes but they moved back to Lan Xichen when he felt him slumping over the top of the railings, a bottle of beer against his cheek, smiling placidly at the dark clouds.
He huffed. “I’m trying to move on.”
Jiang Wanyin shifted his eyes back to the traffic below. “Hurry up then.”
Lan Xichen pressed tighter to his side, elbowing Jiang Wanyin playfully for good measure. “Why? Are you waiting for me?”
It was a joke. Jiang Wanyin knew. Said so as he pushed Lan Xichen a bit away. His heart didn’t do a weird thump. “‘Why,’ you ask?” He repeated despite the chills and the irritating thumping inside his chest. “Because you’re hurting.”
Lan Xichen didn’t say anything. He just hummed, stepped closer, and pulled Jiang Wanyin against him by the shoulder, their heads bumping.
When Jiang Wanyin graduated the next year and eventually searched for a place to settle down in the capital, Lan Xichen offered him the spare room in his city apartment.
“You’re just lonely,” Jiang Wanyin jested, reading over the tenant contract he pestered Lan Xichen to draft. “No comebacks?” He added when he heard no retaliation from the older man.
Lan Xichen always has that quiet smile plastered on his face. This time though, when Jiang Wanyin looked up from the papers to Lan Xichen staring at him by the other side of the kitchen isle, there was something else in the older man’s expression.
Melancholy. As if he was carefully thinking about his answer.
In the end, Lan Xichen nodded. “Maybe I am.”
What the hell was that? Jiang Wanyin thought. But like the other times before, he didn’t say it out loud. There was no reason to question it out loud. So instead, he remained quiet and left the signed contract on the countertop.
But there were a lot of things that went through his mind still. To distract himself, he stood and walked over to the fridge. He reached inside and fetched himself a bottle of water.
Jiang Wanyin wanted to say something about it.
But what should he say to that? Should he say anything to that?
Why did Lan Xichen look like that?
Why is his heart beating so fast?
It wasn’t good to down half a bottle of water when you’re not thirsty. But Jiang Wanyin had to do something to keep his mind off the annoying thumping inside his brain and chest.
“So you’re using me to not feel lonely?” Yes. That was the best thing to say.
Jiang Wanyin opted to try and continue to banter. He needed to lighten the mood, cut the tension.
He expected Lan Xichen to reply with an equally annoying comment. Something he was familiar with so he doesn’t feel disoriented. He needed Lan Xichen to return his antics. Like what Lan Xichen always does.
“I guess I can’t live without Jiang Wanyin now.” Lan Xichen followed it with a toothy grin. He said it so nonchalantly. Like he was relieved, excited, happy.
Like he was — finally — not hurting.
This bastard.
And what a bastard Lan Xichen was. He had the gall to make Jiang Wanyin’s head spin. Had the nerve to pretend he wasn’t looking like a kicked puppy just a second ago.
Lan Xichen’s smiling so wide it made Jiang Wanyin doubt if agreeing to live with this man was the right choice.
Why does he look so happy just because Jiang Wanyin will be here with him now? It wasn’t like they were not together for most of their university days anyway.
Lan Xichen — this grown man, who now has a full-time white-collar job and an apartment he owns — seemed like a kid on Christmas morning. And all because he would now live with Jiang Wanyin!
It wasn’t a big deal. It shouldn’t be! Two friends living together. That was their whole arrangement.
Jiang Wanyin leaned on the cold fridge behind him, suddenly needing support when his legs felt shaky. He was aware Lan Xichen was pretty beyond words could describe.
He forced himself to finish off the bottle, clutching it as he subtly glanced at Lan Xichen again.
He didn’t know Lan Xichen was prettier with his teeth showing when he smiles.
It was the first time Jiang Wanyin felt Lan Xichen was actually there. It was the first time he felt Lan Xichen saw and looked at him.
Lan Xichen only looked at him, even more, the following days, months, years.
Lan Xichen looked at him when they ate together on the small table. He looked at him when they watched dumb movies. He even looked at him whenever they wasted time by the narrow veranda.
Lan Xichen’s eyes always seemed to follow Jiang Wanyin. Like he was memorizing his features. Like he was genuinely fascinated by Jiang Wanyin’s profile.
Jiang Wanyin pretended to not notice. He shouldn’t care so much anyway. He had been with Lan Xichen for many years now. He shouldn’t have this effect on him.
At least that was how Jiang Wanyin tried to convince himself. But whenever he caught Lan Xichen looking, his legs only became shakier, the thumping inside his chest louder.
That was when Jiang Wanyin started to think about the maybes.
This irrational nervousness around someone you’ve already known for a long time…
Maybe he has a crush on Lan Xichen?
Maybe Lan Xichen has a crush on him?
Maybe those maybes are so stupid he shouldn’t have thought of them in the first place?
Maybe Jiang Wanyin should just stop thinking about the maybes.
“Ever thought of growing your hair out?”
It was one of those nights. Nights when the sky above was darker than usual, void of any star. The air was crisp of the oncoming winter, shading their noses red.
Jiang Wanyin has a faux fur blanket around him, desperately keeping the warmth he could contain. His back was pressed against the glass door of the veranda, sitting cross-legged on the rickety wooden armchair.
He pressed his lips together, “That sounded like a pick-up line.” Then he continued, muttering: “...Why?”
Lan Xichen was sitting on the floor beside him. His skin was paler than normal, the faint gleam coming from the living room making him look like an eerie apparition.
But the city lights danced in his eyes when they turned to Jiang Wanyin’s direction. Jiang Wanyin was fast to avoid staring back at Lan Xichen’s eyes anymore than he had to.
So his gaze landed on his arms instead. The goosebumps scattered around his skin reminding the younger that Lan Xichen was alive, very much so.
Jiang Wanyin could see him shivering, was debating whether he should offer to share his small blanket.
It wouldn’t be out of the blue to just toss his blanket over the armchair and to Lan Xichen’s lap. They already shared blankets many times before.
But now… now that Jiang Wanyin’s aware of his erratic heartbeats around Lan Xichen, he felt guilty just being here with him.
Lan Xichen, “You’ll look more beautiful with long hair.”
Used to their usual banter and trying to distract himself from his overbearing thoughts, Jiang Wanyin shoots a: “So you think I’m beautiful hmm?”
“You’ve always been beautiful.” He said it so surely, without missing a beat.
”You sound like you’re always thinking of that.”
Lan Xichen, “I am. Why do you think I sat next to you in Psych 1?”
”Ah, so you were trying to hit on me the first time we met?”
”Yes, but you were such a grumpy first year.”
Lan Xichen was enjoying himself, his laugh mingling with the cold air.
Jiang Wanyin tried to laugh it off too, pain hurtling inside his chest that he could feel it in every part of his body.
Lan Xichen should stop with these jokes.
Because Jiang Wanyin might actually think he got a chance.
Jiang Wanyin grew out his hair. So much so that he now always puts it in a disheveled bun. He’d be honest and say that Lan Xichen’s comment did spur him on.
But he didn’t have to grow it past the small of his back. That was his decision. He liked how he looked with his hair like this.
But Lan Xichen seemed to like it more.
None of them talked about it explicitly. It only fell in place like most of the things they do in the apartment. Like most of everything they do in their friendship.
Friendship. It tasted like bitter medicine against Jiang Wanyin’s tongue.
Whenever they huddled over the small sofa in front of the television doing whatever, Lan Xichen would reach out and remove Jiang Wanyin’s bun. He does it so often that it could now be considered a habit.
Lan Xichen would always watch in fascination, feasting his eyes on the way Jiang Wanyin’s hair spills over his shoulders and back.
Lately, however, the number of times Lan Xichen reached out and touched the tips of Jiang Wanyin’s hair increased, sliding them against the pads of his fingers, watching as each strand slipped away as if he was in a daze.
Jiang Wanyin never questioned it. Was too taken by watching Lan Xichen do that with his hair. Whenever he does that, it felt like time slowed down, like everything in the world was right.
After the spell was broken, Jiang Wanyin would put his hands behind his back, closing them to fists. He so desperately wanted to reach out and touch Lan Xichen.
But he couldn’t.
Shouldn’t.
By the following winter, Jiang Wanyin was sure: He was in love with Lan Xichen.
It hurt to just see him, the words stuck in his throat. It was so hard to breathe.
Before that year ended, as they watched the fireworks from the small veranda, Jiang Wanyin blurted out his confession:
“I’m in love with you.”
Lan Xichen heard him, of course, he did.
Up to the days leading to this very moment, Jiang Wanyin already thought of everything there was to think of. He had already prepared himself for everything that might happen.
If Lan Xichen feels the same. If Lan Xichen doesn’t feel the same.
If he would see disgust in his eyes. If he would see nothing there.
But Jiang Wanyin would never be prepared for what he saw that night.
Lan Xichen looked at him with the same expression he did at his graduation party many, many years before. That same night on the balcony, with a forgotten party inside, the traffic below.
When he gave up on Jin Guangyao.
Are you telling me to move on from you too?
Jiang Wanyin felt the chill through his bones.
“Reject me.” Jiang Wanyin murmured, voice hoarse. He could feel his chest tightening, cold sharp air prickling his skin. The many worries pouring in. He was ready for the long-buried truth of Lan Xichen’s rejection. But he wasn’t set for a limbo. He doesn’t want to get stuck between a yes and a no.
Between maybe we can be and no, we cannot.
“Reject me now so I can start moving on.”
But Lan Xichen stayed quiet. There were many times when he opened his mouth but said nothing. Each time, a part of Jiang Wanyin’s heart broke.
Just reject me, Lan Xichen.
When Lan Xichen buried his face on his palms and rake over his hair in frustration, Jiang Wanyin became sure:
He won’t get anything out of Lan Xichen tonight. And perhaps ever.
Exasperated at Lan Xichen’s cowardice, Jiang Wanyin snickered and glanced up at the blank sky, again, empty of any moon or stars. He stepped towards the door, incidentally where Lan Xichen also was, each step heavy and destabilizing. He wanted nothing more than to fall and coil in on himself on that frigid ground.
And then he thought back to many years ago, when Lan Xichen asked him to take Jin Guangyao’s place.
“You’re right.” Jiang Wanyin stopped right before the veranda door, beside Lan Xichen, so he could hear him loud and clear. “Lan Xichen, you’re really selfish.”
The rest of the night was spent in his room, crying silently. Biting down on his bottom lip till it bled. Lan Xichen was outside, knocking, asking him to celebrate the new year with him.
Jiang Wanyin would never touch the dumplings and spring rolls they prepared earlier that day. There was nothing worth celebrating.
He didn’t sleep that night.
But because the world continued and won’t stop because of his heartbreak, Jiang Wanyin opened his door the following day, visible bags under his eyes, his muscles sore.
The whole ordeal was embarrassing, painful, dumb.
So he pretended nothing out of the ordinary happened the night prior.
Up to this day, he couldn’t decide what was worse. Facing Lan Xichen in the living room and talking about winter cleaning and putting away old things…
Or Lan Xichen agreeing that yes, they have nothing else to talk about but winter cleaning for the new year.
Pathetic.
He was so pathetic.
It hurt even more that Lan Xichen also pretended nothing happened.
They continued living together. The reason why, Jiang Wanyin doesn’t really know. Maybe it was the pretense that everything was all right. That they could put it behind them.
As if Jiang Wanyin confessing was a mistake both of them should forget about. So their life together continued.
But many things changed.
They still eat together, watch movies together, talk together. Only this time, they eat in silence, watch at both ends of the sofa, and never talk anything of that night.
Jiang Wanyin was losing his mind.
“Why don’t you just move out? If you can’t find a place, I also live in the capital. You can stay with me. Move here, I don’t mind.”
He told Nie Huaisang his dilemma because he wanted to unload the burden in his heart brought about by vague feelings and ruined friendship. Jiang Wanyin knew Nie Huaisang – an old classmate and good friend – wasn’t the perfect person to talk his situation with. But he was one of the people who could talk sense to him. As proven by their years of association.
Would anyone fault him for thinking that maybe he would also get some advice? Although he did get one: Leave.
Nie Huaisang didn’t care who Lan Xichen was, didn’t bother asking what type of person he was or why Jiang Wanyin fell for him. He was just interested in Jiang Wanyin’s current circumstances. He had always only cared about the people he knew.
It was also the reason why Jiang Wanyin avoided calling Wei Wuxian – his adopted older brother – in the first place. He knew Wei Wuxian would come running back to China with the sole goal of murdering Lan Xichen if he told him anything that had happened since new year’s eve.
Unlike Nie Huiasang, Wei Wuxian knew of Lan Xichen and Jiang Wanyin’s inescapable journey of falling in love with him.
He was alone in the apartment, holed up inside his room. Jiang Wanyin lay on his bed, buds stuffed inside his ears as he let Nie Huaisang continue his tirade about the complications of staying with someone you have feelings for while knowing it won’t go anywhere.
“Why are you staying there anyway? It’s not like anything would change.”
Nie Huaisang was blunt. But he didn’t lie. He called it as he saw it: Jiang Wanyin being a martyr for love.
What hurt the most was he only repeated what Jiang Wanyin already knew –
His relationship with Lan Xichen won’t go anywhere. His only remaining course of action to keep his sanity intact was to move on.
So Jiang Wanyin listened, and started packing his bags.
That night, he waited for Lan Xichen to come home so he could say his proper goodbyes. It would be easier to just shoot him a message. But there would be much room for more complications if he does so.
If he really wanted to end everything here and start anew, he needed to cut himself off of Lan Xichen cleanly. Maybe they could still be friends once he properly moved on.
Maybe.
It felt weird to just up and say the reason why he would be leaving. But there was no point in lying about it anyway.
They both knew something was wrong. Knew what that something was.
The sound of the doors opening almost made Jiang Wanyin jump up from his seat.
Seeing Lan Xichen walking through the entryway, looking back over his shoulders again and again, Jiang Wanyin almost let himself ask him what was wrong.
When in fact, he knew everything was wrong.
“What are all those bags in the hallway?” Lan Xichen bent over to remove his loafers hurriedly, almost tossing his satchel on the floor with haste. “Why are your bags there?” His voice was a shade darker, louder.
Jiang Wanyin has never seen Lan Xichen’s body language so erratic. Had never heard him raise his voice.
Tonight, however, it was evident that he was agitated.
Lan Xichen caught him by the kitchen isle. Noticing the smaller bags in the living room, he furrowed his brows and looked at Jiang Wanyin, expecting an explanation. “You’re leaving? Is there an emergency? Why are there so many bags? How long will you be gone? I can come with you if you want.”
Come with me? Jiang Wanyin fought the urge to snicker crossly. Instead, he heaved a deep breath.
Sliding off the high stool, he walked closer to Lan Xichen, hands inside his pockets. He felt jittery, unsure. He needed to keep himself grounded to make Lan Xichen understand. “I wanted to talk to you about this in person, so I waited for you.”
This would be the last time he waited for Lan Xichen.
“Was there an emergency back home? Why are you leaving so –”
“I’ll stay with Nie Huaisang for the moment and then –”
“Who?”
“Nie Huaisang,” Jiang Wanyin repeated, thinking Lan Xichen didn’t hear him. “I’ll be staying with him until –”
“Why? Who is he?” Lan Xichen's tone gradually started to sound annoyed, his voice started to blare.
Jiang Wanyin raised an eyebrow. “A classmate.” Has he not mentioned Nie Huaisang before? “I wanted to properly thank you for letting me stay. I’ve also transferred funds that cover until the end of my contract –”
“You think I care about what the contract says? Why are you leaving so suddenly?!”
Jiang Wanyin was taken aback. He thought Lan Xichen would have no qualms about him leaving. That Lan Xichen would do what he did on new year’s – say nothing and let him go.
In all his years of being with Lan Xichen, he has never seen him – mad. Eyes piercing, voice roaring, tone demanding, mad. Granted, there was never an incident where Lan Xichen was expected to be angry. Thinking back to it now, all the times they had together, they had always been safe.
Too safe. Too comfortable.
… Too comfortable that hurting each other was also considered normal?
To hurt and be hurt should never be normal.
After his initial shock, Jiang Wanyin felt even more pathetic. Beaten down. Tired. All of the emotions he kept behind his sham of being okay breaking and flooding his senses.
Overwhelmed and pissed, Jiang Wanyin gave out a bitter chuckle. “Why do I have to explain myself to you? Can’t I leave? Do you own me?”
Lan Xichen, “Why do you want to leave?!”
“You know why!”
“Jiang Wanyin!”
“Lan Xichen!”
“Tell me!”
“I want to fucking move on from you, okay?!”
Lan Xichen closed his mouth, gulping back whatever retort he had, eyes the same when Jiang Wanyin confessed.
You knew we would end up like this, Lan Xichen. From the moment you decided I wasn’t worth the explanation of why you couldn’t answer me that night – you knew.
Jiang Wanyin, “I know we both pretended it didn’t happen. But being here with you just hurts me. So much.” His eyes sting. His breaths were uneven. “You could’ve just rejected me. Just say you don’t feel the same, Xichen. Why is that so hard?”
“I do feel the same!”
“Bullshit!” What a cheap trick Lan Xichen. “I won’t stay around anymore so you can mess with my head over and over.”
Lan Xichen looked at the floor, up the ceiling, hands on his hips.
So you’re actually sad about this, huh?
In the dim light of their entryway and the adjacent kitchen isle, Jiang Wanyin could still catch his watery eyes.
“Wanyin… Wanyin…”
Don’t cry, you bastard. I don’t want to worry about you.
“Wanyin… I’m sorry. I just need more time.” Then he was raking his hair back, messing it up. He paced back and forth, steps heavy, loud.
Even tonight, with his thoughts muddled and his throat scratchy from all the shouting, Jiang Wanyin still thought Lan Xichen in disarray doesn’t look quite right.
“Time for what?”
“I just need to be sure… please.”
Jiang Wanyin shook his head. “You can’t string me along and ask me to wait for whenever you decide you want me.”
“It’s not like that..!”
“Then what?!” Lan Xichen’s looking at him now, tears spilling on his cheeks. Jiang Wanyin felt his own tears falling, “We’ve been together all these years, Xichen. If you feel the same, you feel the same. If you don’t, you don’t.” He saw Lan Xichen reach out his arm, was about to grab his wrist.
But he didn’t.
If he did, would he have let Lan Xichen pull him back?
Why should he even think about something that didn’t happen anyway?
Jiang Wanyin, “I’m leaving,” He hauled a few of his bags up, then walked to the door, past Lan Xichen who, again, did nothing.
Jiang Wanyin dragged his steps until finally, he was out of the apartment.
Nie Huiasang picked him up at a nearby intersection a few minutes later. The car ride was silent, climbing up the stairs to Nie Huiasang’s house was a blur. Jiang Wanyin was sure his friend said something to try and cheer him up.
He was also sure nothing of what he said helped.
When he got settled in his new room, wide and empty, Jiang Wanyin looked outside the window, up the starless sky.
Before, he was sure Lan Xichen was just unable to find the right words to reject him. Now, after hearing him say he felt the same but wasn’t sure…
Where does that leave them?
What does that even mean?
“I just need to be sure… please.”
“Why can’t you be sure about me?” Jiang Wanyin's breath fogged up the window. When it cleared, he was left looking back at his reflection.
Jiang Wanyin, maybe you shouldn’t have fallen for Lan Xichen?
Maybe you shouldn’t even have met him.
He cried. Again. Cried as he did after those fireworks years ago. Maybe even more. Somehow, tonight, the pain was worse.
Why was he in love with someone who always makes him cry?
Lan Xichen said he was feeling the same.
So why didn’t he stop Jiang Wanyin from leaving?
He hated that even after all that, he wanted Lan Xichen to stop him.
Because there were still many things he left at the apartment upon his sudden moving out, Jiang Wanyin decided to visit it one last time. He planned to come and leave the key when he knew Lan Xichen was away at work.
Lan Xichen’s schedule was engrained in Jiang Wanyin’s memory. Living with him for years made it easy to know when he would be out.
After all, he wouldn't be as affected as Jiang Wanyin that he would suddenly stop coming to work.
Jiang Wanyin scoffed at the thought. It wounded him because it was true.
He was only gone for a few days, not even a week. But stepping inside the apartment felt eerie. It felt foreign but still familiar.
Unlike his relationship with Lan Xichen, nothing inside changed.
There was still the kitchen isle Lan Xichen would hang out while Jiang Wanyin cooked. There was still the small sofa where they used to huddle together and laugh at stupid romcoms.
There was still that narrow veranda, where everything started to fall apart.
Everything was the same. As if nothing happened.
Just like what Lan Xichen wanted.
As he walked deeper into the apartment, on his way to his room, Jiang Wanyin’s eyes landed on an open envelope by the kitchen sink. It was already ripped open. After getting over the gnawing thought that it might be from his family by reading an unfamiliar address, Jiang Wanyin was supposed to just pass by it. Leave it at that.
Then he saw a picture under the envelope, of a man with long, straight hair and mellow eyes. His fingers were already on the corner of the photo before he could think better of it.
It was a postcard. On the back of it was a simple Happy New Year!
Signed below was: Jin Guangyao.
Oh. So that was that.
“You’ll look more beautiful with long hair.”
“You’ve always been beautiful.”
Jiang Wanyin laughed.
All those years, he thought Jin Guangyao had already become a memory. A treasured childhood friend Lan Xichen used to be in love with.
Not someone he was still in love with.
So he had been a replacement all along.
Lan Xichen had always seen him as a replacement.
So what was he wanting to be sure of?
Of him being a good replacement?
Jiang Wanyin laughed until his eyes sting and the tears streak down his face.
Jiang Wanyin stood in front of his new room’s bathroom mirror that same night, dragging his fingers over his long, black hair. Clumping a few strands together, he remembered the way Lan Xichen would touch them reverently.
Then he started snipping at it.
Shorter.
Shorter.
Until there was almost nothing left.