Work Text:
Sometimes he wonders why Lan Xichen stays with him, when he is so undeserving of Xichen’s devotion. Even during completely mundane activities, Xichen is beautiful. Jin Guangyao watches as Xichen gently pulls back his right sleeve, gracefully dipping a brush in ink. Open on the table is a golden notebook he had gifted Xichen many years ago. He ruminates over the difference between the two of them. Xichen is like the gentle swoop of a willow branch, so incredibly good. Meng Yao is completely different; he feels as though he were walking a tightrope across a great expanse, claws and sharp teeth rising from the canyon to nip at his feet. The difference is that while he’s masquerading in his golden robes, Lan Huan has that same gold in his soul.
Sometimes he dreams at night. The dreams of children are plagued with wide-mouthed monsters reaching from under a bed or out a closet. In Jin Guangyao's worst dreams, he is the grinning monster residing beneath their bed. He sees Lan Huan's body beneath his feet, chest covered by the same blood coating his own hands
Sometimes he truly hates himself. Why, for the first half of his life did he live only to gain the approval of his useless father? Why does he now depend on the mindless devotion of others? Why couldn't Xichen's selfless love have been enough? Why, despite all the soft reassurances Xichen has whispered to his ear, does he know, with such gruesome certainty, that he will never breathe until all the creatures hiding in shadows have been brought to his feet. That until then every passing second will feel like a million eyes boring into his depraved, vile soul. Every minute that goes by will feel like invisible hands grabbing at his ankles. Every new day will feel like fingers pressing harder and harder into his throat. He will never breathe until every would-be assassin and potential political rival has been eradicated, his throne as stable as Lan Huan's hand on his shoulder when he wakes shaking from a nightmare.
Sometimes in his presence, Jin Guangyao can almost pretend he was a good man. The desire for Xichen's approval so strong, Meng Yao can't help but pledge himself to a lifetime of rectitude. But like everything else in his life, his secret vows last only briefly before the monster inside him rears its ugly head once again. No matter how hard he tries to emulate Xichen's kind smile and gentle hands, he cannot disguise his soul, its ugliness so very different from the benignancy that embodies Lan Huan.
Sometimes he wants to believe that he could be a good man, but in the middle of the night, laying next to a long-asleep Lan Huan, he cannot help but acknowledge that good is the one word he will never be.
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I see you smile
When you see it's me
I had to do something
To break into your golden thinking
How many times will I do this
And you'll still believe?