It's been thirteen years since Lan Zhan was last in a room with Wei Wuxian, but its been five minutes since he saw Wei Ying teaching art online. Devising a complex plan to save Wei Ying from being framed from murder, Lan Zhan throws his life and he...
But he's been awake for thirty one hours and cannot summon the energy.
Something his brother must have suspected and worried over, so cooked more food, designed for the tastes of one person, than the rules really allow. His warming dinner is proof of his brother's fears and his devotion. Brother will not accept thanks, so he will need to express his gratitude in some other way, maybe a new book?
For once when his soup is hot, he does not sit at the table as he should. They have a round table that sits close to the kitchen units but instead goes to the red sofa on the other wall. He sinks down gratefully, tucking the rabbit cushion Wei Ying bought for him years ago, behind his back. Its mortifying to have to ignore Brother's barely suppressed smile, but it always sits in pride of place, on a sofa far more suited to Wei Ying, than a Lan home.
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A new red sofa that came with the apartment and was part of the reason he had moved here, because Wei Ying always wears red in some way . Which was so utterly ridiculous, he allowed Brother to assume it was the quiet neighborhood and the view over the park to remind him of Gusu.
Not that Lan Zhan was thinking of a man who will never live here. But he has resigned himself to thinking about and planning for a man he loves with every fiber of his being, drawing some strength and comfort from being reminded of him.
His love for Wei Ying has become part of him, like the blood in his veins and the breath in his lungs. He cannot stop loving him, cannot imagine a world where he never knew the brilliance of Wei Ying's soul. Cannot stop looking for ways to reproduce the echo of him, even in places where those quick light strides have never even ventured.
He goes to cafes Wei Ying would like. He doesn't like coffee but the scent of it is comforting. He has a bottle of Wei Ying's favorite lotus aftershave and had to stop pretending he ever planned to give it to him. He hasn't bought chili oil because how would he explain that, partially living with his observant brother, but he does look at them every time he shops. He rents apartments with red sofas. He scours the internet learning about child development and introducing young children to pet rabbits.
No matter how much it hurts to be apart from him, not knowing him at all would be far worse. Living always listening and looking for that echo, is ridiculous and probably a mind altering way to live, but he cannot stop. And he doesn't even have the excuse of grief or a break up he never got over. Does the love of your life moving away after kissing you and moving on for thirteen years even count as that?
Every photo of him online, every message and every gift only makes him more attached, not less. Every year this love seems to have expanded, his devotion ever present, his dedication to loving him from afar is practically an art-form.
He misses Wei Ying and all his carefully fostered connections to him, are making it worse.
It is so quiet, he thinks. Wei Ying is never quiet unless he's concentrating.
