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Forever is just a word. Sickly sweet off the tongue and a hard pill to swallow even after years, the wind returns to whisper it in your ear when you see him again. He stands at the other end of the room, talking to strangers and old friends with ease. He commands the attention of the room without having to ask, people gravitating towards him and showering him with praise and well wishes. Jing Yuan is a natural leader, graced with a lazy and a reassuring smile and warm tone that soothes over the worries of the soldiers that he commands. Once upon a time, that warm tone filled the privacy of your room, four closed off walls where you lay buried beneath sheets and tangled limbs with someone who made a promise he couldn’t keep. Your chest tightens at the thought and you allow yourself a moment longer to watch from a distance.
They say that distance makes the heart grow fonder and yet you can’t tell if this feeling in your chest is fondness, heartbreak, or something more cruel. A part of you misses him. You miss the soft caress of calloused fingers tracing along your skin, drawing invisible patterns forever inked in swirls and asymmetrical hearts. You miss the late nights with bottles of alcohol tucked beneath coats as you snuck away from gatherings. You miss him.
Attending a party hosted by Yukong would no doubt mean seeing him, and yet that selfish part of you crept up and goaded you into accepting the invitation. It hadn’t helped that sweet Yanqing had run into you at a cafe just two weeks prior, eager eyed and brimming with excitement as he asked if you would attend. So you find yourself dressed in something nice and swiped a glass of something bubbly from the nearest platter upon entering. The drink is bittersweet on your lips, but the alcohol is warm as it washes down your throat. You wonder if you look like a mess, failing to be put together as you duck away from conversations and steer clear of his path. That doesn’t stop you from looking over to where he stands. It’s impossible not to glance over when his booming laughter catches the eyes of all.
He looks happy, you think to yourself. You grimace at the thought but can’t help but steal another glance. He looks good. And as an ex-lover, it’s not quite something you want to acknowledge because there’s a part of you that wishes that maybe he hasn’t quite moved on yet either. Two months is barely any time at all in the long span of life on the Xianzhou Luofu. It is nothing in the length of your relationship with Jing Yuan. But you wish that two months would become two years, then two hundred, and then maybe, his face would just be a blur in the back of your mind.
“(y/n), you’re here,” you pause in your hurried steps, standing up straight as you steel yourself. Seeing him from afar is one thing, seeing him standing in front of you is another. “Yukong said you might bail at the last minute.”
“Were you hoping I would?” the words come out before you can stop them. Apologies spill from your lips and Jing Yuan clears his throat, an amused smile tugging up on his lips. It’s unfair that he looks so put together when you’re falling apart in front of him. It’s humiliating.
“Would you be surprised if I said I was hoping you wouldn’t? I wanted to see you again. It feels like it’s been forever,” he steps closer. You want to scoff at his choice of words. How ironic of him. Forever.
“You said forever and I almost bought it,” you shake your head. “Is this another one of your thought out conversations that will go your way?” He doesn’t look fazed at your accusation. But something shifts in his eyes and his smile becomes more strained. His eyes search yours and you lift your chin higher and the tension around you both grows. You’re acutely aware of the looks that people shoot the two of you as they pass by, no doubt trying to catch a word of what the General and his ex-lover might have to say to one another. Anxiety festers in your chest. It was a mistake to come. The sooner you get away from this conversation, the sooner you can find Yukong and make your exit.
A cruel part of you wonders if this was all part of a plan that he had crafted. You wouldn’t be surprised if it was. After all, Jing Yuan is known for brilliant strategies that can win on the battlefield and in the game of politics. He’s always been a strategist, carefully crafting his words and attacks to strike with force. It’s one of the many lessons you’ve learned from him. When you stay by Jing Yuan’s side long enough, you learn how his brain works, how he chooses to move pawns across the board to achieve victory, how he shuts down opposition in meetings and how he shows you how he loves. The best, or perhaps worst you’ve learned is how to strike where it hurts with words that dig beneath the surface and burst beneath the skin, leaving a gaping wound that bleeds insecurities.
You wonder, when did all the lessons you learned turn to weapons against your heart. It’s not easy to love a general, it’s harder to love someone like Jing Yuan at that, someone who throws himself into work and occasionally forgets to take care of himself, to take care of you. You heard the rumours, the cruel words behind your back when you left his office in the middle of the day, humiliation painted clear as day across your face. Your own worries twisted into claims of being too overbearing and as his office watched in shocked silence as he sent you out in silence, the ground swallowed you up whole.
“My apologies, I didn’t mean to bring up unpleasant memories,” he says gently. You bite the inside of your cheek and shake your head. There’s no point in starting something ugly in the midst of a party. That would only draw more attention to you both, and that was the last thing either of you needed.
“It was nice to see you again—”
“Do you want to speak elsewhere?”
You both speak at the same time before erupting into coughs and muffled apologies. It feels so childish, the way you both stand in front of one another and attempt to speak. It’s a reminder of first meetings, first dates, first loves. Look where it’s left you now.
“You don’t have anywhere else to be? Other friends to catch up with?” you question, stealing a look around at the crowd of people around you. Everyone is either far too busy conversing with one another or navigating through the crowd. You catch the eyes of nosy onlookers who turn away in a split second, embarrassed at having been caught.
Jing Yuan hums thoughtfully, “You’re the only one I’d like to catch up with.” He holds out his hand, a silent invitation for you to join. You shoot him a suspicious look, but the warm expression on his features is anything but skeptical. There’s no doubt he has some ulterior motive to this, but you allow yourself another moment of selfishness as you take his hand and allow him to tug you away from the crowd. You have no doubt that the rumours will immediately circulate the moment the doors click shut behind you.
“Forget about what everyone else will say,” his voice is a low murmur as he leads you outside. You forget that after having known him for so long, after having been with him for so long, it’s hard to hide some of the thoughts that he seems to be able to read. But you stay silent and follow after him, keeping up with his long, hurried strides as if he were in a rush. And when he finally slows down, you finally register where he’s taken you. A familiar pavilion with the sight of the Ambrosial Arbor in the background, far from the prying ears of gossip hungry people and onlookers with cameras at the ready. A place that you had once found solace in with him before it was swept away.
“Do you remember this place?” he glances over at you wryly.
You don’t humour him and snap back, “Are you playing some sort of game with me?” Jing Yuan has the nerve to look amused and you fist your hands at your side, seconds away from throwing a punch at that pretty face of his. If he wasn’t the General of the Xianxhou Luofu, you would have no qualms giving him a piece of your mind. But alas, in public, and the fact that everyone back at the party knew he had left with you, would only spark more rumours.
“General, what’s going on?” you drop part of your facade, exasperation dripping from your tone as your turn to face him fully. He doesn’t look at you, body weight leaning against the rails as he stares at the ancient tree.
“You haven’t called me that in a long time,” he hums.
You narrow your eyes. “That’s not the point,” you step closer, well aware that you’re about to cross dangerous territory. Jing Yuan is playing a game, a touchy one at that, and you’ve fallen right into it. This tightrope like situation that you’ve found yourself in is no doubt a plan he’s devised on his own and there’s a small part of you that fears what his next move will be. “Stop playing with me. I’m not some sort of stupid game to you anymore.”
“You’ve never been a game to me,” his words are quiet, but heavy as he glances over to you, furrowed eyes searching yours. “You don’t think I’ve been toying with you all this time, do you?”
You refuse to say anything. Deep down you know that Jing Yuan truly did care. That doesn’t mean you are willing to let go of your pride just yet.
“You’ve never been a game to me. Don’t you ever believe that.” Jing Yuan turns to face you fully and you lean back, surprised at his sudden actions. “I made mistakes, I know that. And I’m sorry for all that I put you through. I never meant to humiliate you.”
“That doesn’t change the face that you still did it,” you hate that the memories seem to wash back over you again. The feeling of tears prickling in the corner of your eyes as you stand in a room of people, his booming voice silencing yours, crushing you under the weight of his stare. What started as a suggestion to his plan of action, turned to your own personal concerns for his well being as tensions began to rise between you, him, and all the other people in the room. And when he finally cracked down, booming voice sharp and decisive as he ordered you to stop worrying about things that were of none of your concern, you felt that string snap. Silence enveloped the room as everyone else turned away. Perhaps you shouldn’t have let yourself become carried away with personal feelings, but how could you not have, when he was about to put his life on the line and was laying out his plan in front of you, his lover.
“You said all of those cruel things in front of everyone,” your voice wavers. Jing Yuan takes a step forward. Then another, reaching for your hand as you hastily pull back. “You kept going and all I did was sit there and take it. So how could I not think that this was all some stupid game to you?!” You know you sound unreasonable, that the pieces don’t quite connect, but that bubbling fury that’s risen has already spilled over the top. And seeing him again doesn’t make anything better. Two months is not enough time in the long span of things for you to fully come to terms with all that’s happened, and avoiding him has only made the situation worse. You let thoughts fester as you ignore his texts, cry yourself to sleep as unopened letters sit on your bedside table collecting dust with every waking day.
Before you can speak again, Jing Yuan crushes you in a hug, large hands finding their place around you as he tucks you into his body, ignorant of the way you protest weakly and tell him to stop acting like this when people might see.
“You don’t get it, do you?” his breath is shaky on your neck as he holds you. “The expression on your face has haunted me since that day. I didn’t know what to say when you showed up the next day to end things. I thought it would be for the best. I don’t deserve your forgiveness so soon, not after that, but please, Aeons please, know that I’m so sorry.” You don’t make a move to return his embrace but your relax in his hold. As if sensing your hesitation, he loosens his grip but doesn’t quite let you go, running his hands down your arms until he holds your hand. He looks vulnerable and rattled and it’s a rather unsettling sight to see him lose his composure like so.
“I miss you, I’m sorry.”
“General—”
“Jing Yuan.”
You sigh, “Jing Yuan.” He looks up at you and you sigh.
“If you’re going to break my heart, please, just lie to me one more time,” he begs.
“I’m not going to break your heart,” you say carefully. “I think it’s safe to say that neither of us have moved on. Or at least, really tried.” His grip on you tightens, as if afraid that you might pull away and leave him for real. “I’m willing to give this, us, another shot.” Your words are hesitant and he hears the uncertainty in your voice, but it’s enough for him. You’ve always been enough for him.
“I still love you, I promise,” he whispers. “And I promise I’ll keep this, forever.”