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“Jing Yuan?” Dan Heng’s hesitant call echoes quietly through the hallway. As he lifts his hand to lightly knock on the General’s door, the lingering sound of his voice fades into nothingness.
When he’s greeted by only silence, his brows crease, creating faint worry lines on his skin. Fighting down the urge to push the door open, he purses his lips, and turns away. Torn between his desire to respect Jing Yuan’s privacy, and his growing concern for the General’s safety, all Dan Heng can do is resume his nervous pacing.
It’s not common for Jing Yuan to spend so long getting ready–even if tonight is a special occasion.
Dan Heng can’t recall a time when Jing Yuan had spent more than a handful of minutes fussing with his appearance before being ready to leave. Ordinarily, all the General would do is toss his hair into a ponytail, attempt to cover the bags beneath his eyes, and the red tint that clings to his lashes from the exhaustion that so often sinks into his very bones. Yet, no matter how hard he tries, traces of that constant fatigue always manage to peek through the layers of concealer trying to smother them.
Inhaling, Dan Heng turns to face the door again. He can see faint marks on the wooden floorboards beneath his feet from the sheer number of times he’s walked the length of this narrow corridor.
The likelihood of something befalling Jing Yuan in the man’s own home is minuscule at best–even more so with him nearby. But he can’t get the incident with Bailu at Scalegorge Waterscape out of his head. It feels like its memory has been burned into every single part of him. And, if someone was able to hire assassins to strike the high elder it wasn’t improbable to believe another could do so to target the General. Jing Yuan, after all, has faced his fair share of backlash for pardoning Dan Heng.
And there are countless strangers who would pay a pretty lump of gold for his life. Certainly, more than a handful of them would be willing to harm Jing Yuan in the process of chasing an old grudge.
Dan Heng’s mind is beginning to spiral all over again.
Unable to drown his anxiety, Dan Heng knocks on the door again. With more force this time. “Jing Yuan?” His voice is deeper, desperate to be given a response from the man inside.
This time, the door slowly creaks open.
Relief immediately fills his taut chest, but it lasts for only a fleeting moment.
Instead of Jing Yuan, he’s greeted by the massive snout of a lion as Mimi shoves his head through the tiny crack in the door, and forces it open. With a carefree yawn, the feline steps out into the hallway.
Dan Heng’s gaze instinctively falls onto Mimi’s snow white fur, and his heart leaps into his throat–nearly heaving its way past his tongue. With increasing panic, he spots something bright red staining the lion’s forehead. His mouth goes dry, and he nearly rushes into the room.
But he stops just short of doing so when a faint, floral scent wafting up from Mimi’s head strikes his sensitive nose.
Quickly kneeling down onto the floor in front of Mimi, he slides his hands through the oversized house cat’s thick mane. His wandering fingers halt when they find a series of scarlet marks leading up Mimi’s head.
“Mimi, you…” Dan Heng swipes his thumb along the rounded edge of one of those marks. When he turns his palm upwards, there’s a glossy red stain covering his finger. One that carries a very distinctive rose scent.
Dan Heng’s nose wiggles subconsciously.
Against his hand, he can feel Mimi’s entire body vibrating as he purrs–blissfully unaware of Dan Heng’s current plight.
It’s not blood, Dan Heng realizes, and his entire body relaxes.
He can briefly recall a very similar aroma pouring off of March in the past.
It’s make-up.
Ruffling up Mimi’s mane, he tries to uselessly scrub the stains off Mimi’s stark white fur, but all he’s truly accomplishing is making them larger, and covering his own hand in a waxy substance.
“Why are you covered in make-up?” He hardly expects Jing Yuan’s spoiled pet to provide him with an answer, especially when Mimi seems perfectly content with Dan Heng’s pitiful attempt to clean all of the bright red color from his fur.
Knowing he’s only making it worse, Dan Heng resigns Mimi to his fate, and stands back up to enter Jing Yuan’s room.
Jing Yuan is sitting at the large vanity in the far corner of the bedroom. His muscular back is facing towards them. His hair is undone, and hanging loosely over his broad shoulders, and the vibrant, crimson ribbon that normally keeps it up is tied around his wrist instead. He appears unaware of the odd pair loitering at the threshold of his room–or, more likely, he’s noticed and is adding on a few finishing touches before addressing them.
“Jing Yuan–” Dan Heng finally steps fully into the room. Behind him, Mimi’s heavy footfalls reverberate through the small space as the lion carefully follows after him.
Dan Heng is suddenly and very intensely aware of the oppressive aroma of flowers clogging up the air. It’s so thick he feels like he might just choke on it.
He’s beginning to understand why the lion had been so eager to escape a moment ago. “Mimi is–”
Jing Yuan finally turns towards him.
The General’s fingers are gingerly gripping a delicate comb. One with a soft, pink lotus carved into its center. Locks of his silky hair are still cascading through its teeth as Jing Yuan’s eyes meet his own. There’s a shimmery glow highlighting his sharp cheekbones and smooth skin, making it look dewy in the light cast from the lantern sitting on the table.
When Jing Yuan blinks, his eyelashes look far longer than Dan Heng ever recalls them being. And Dan Heng finds himself just as drawn to the gold and red sheen covering the other’s upper eyelids. But he’s captivated, most of all, by the startling scarlet hue covering Jing Yuan’s plump lips. It stands out vividly against his pale hair and starry eyes.
Dan Heng is entirely bewitched by it. Much like a moth to a flame.
Those tantalizing lips curve upwards into a gentle smile that takes Dan Heng’s breath away.
Jing Yuan carefully places the comb down on the vanity.
“Ah,” Jing Yuan tries, but fails, to swallow the soft, airy laugh that manages to slip past his throat as he notices the pitiful state of Mimi’s fur. “I’m afraid the fact that I’m wearing lipstick had escaped my mind a moment ago when he came to greet me.” His attention shifts to the poor lion hiding behind Dan Heng’s legs. “I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me, Mimi.”
The warm, dazzling glow that slips into Jing Yuan’s expression is enough to make Mimi helplessly bow his head in defeat.
In that moment, Dan Heng discovers it is, in fact, possible to feel a tinge of jealousy towards an extra large house cat.
With neither Dan Heng nor Mimi capable of forming a coherent thought, Jing Yuan decides to fill the void.
“While you were away this afternoon, March paid me a visit. She did not specify why, but she generously gifted me all of this.” He tilts his head towards the cutesy bag containing an array of make-up Dan Heng has never seen before. “I cannot claim to be at all familiar with the art of make-up; however, she was very insistent that I try it, at the very least, for tonight. I could not bring myself to allow her kindness to go to waste, but, admittedly, I’m uncertain of whether or not it looks presentable.”
Dan Heng isn’t sure if March is actively attempting to murder him, or if she’s trying to help him get laid. He; however, knows he doesn’t have the gall to question her motives when he’s staring the heavenly results of her meddling in the eyes. .
“Dan Heng?”
Realizing he’s been silently admiring Jing Yuan the entire time, Dan Heng sheepishly clears his throat. Then closes the remaining distance between the door and the vanity.
Mimi, now little more than an afterthought in the General’s and Dan Heng’s minds, tactfully takes this opportunity to slip back into the hallway.
“It…” Dan Heng swallows around the lump in his throat as he reaches out to tenderly touch the very corner of Jing Yuan’s mouth with his thumb. The red he had tried to scrub off of Mimi’s fur still clings to his skin, and matches the alluring shade highlighting Jing Yuan’s glossy lips. “ You –look beautiful.”
Not that Jing Yuan ever looks anything but utterly radiant in Dan Heng’s eyes. .
Jing Yuan’s smile widens beneath Dan Heng’s touch. The feeling of the other’s calloused finger against his skin is somewhat ticklish.
“Mmm,” Jing Yuan hums softly, lifting his hand to wrap his fingers around Dan Heng’s wrist. “Does this shade suit your tastes?”
“Yes.” Dan Heng answers without hesitation. His voice is heady, and his hot breath ghosts over Jing Yuan’s jaw as he leans in close enough to feel the softness of Jing Yuan’s skin against his own.
“Dan Heng, you’ll end up like Mimi,” Jing Yuan warns, but tilts his chin up regardless, and allows his shimmering eyes to fall shut.
“I know.”
Dan Heng closes the feeble distance remaining between them, and captures Jing Yuan’s lips in a hungry kiss. The lipstick coating them is smooth and moist against his mouth, and he can feel it smear against his skin every time he deepens that passionate kiss. The subtle scent of rose fills his lungs to the point of bursting, and Jing Yuan tastes impossibly sweet against his tongue.
Reluctantly, he admits to himself, he’ll thank March the next time he sees her.