The next few days blurred into weeks for Wei Ying. He wasn't quite sure how he was still breathing, tumbling from class to class. When it felt like he was melting from within. He felt like his brain had been reduced to nothing but goo, like his lungs were collapsing, decaying slowly but surely. It felt like there was a stone in his chest, that wouldn't go away no matter what. Was that how he felt? Wei Ying wondered, as his eyes traced over the familiar silhouette leaving. There were books in his hands, but he carried them with a severity that Wei Ying had not seen, not for a long, long time.
Not since he met him.
His eyes were hollow, in a way that mirrored Wei Ying's. He watched wordlessly as the older boy walked out of the class, the things in his hands half-forgotten. How long has it been? Wangji still hadn't come back, and Wei Wuxian was this close to getting used to waking up alone. He hadn't realized how lonely it was. How used he'd gotten to the other boy's presence, how used he was to looking at his face, seeing his smile, even if it was just for a while.
Funnily, he didn't miss his girlfriend half as much as he missed Wangji, and he wasn't sure why.
Or maybe it was simply that he refused to face it.
Refused to face the fact that maybe, just maybe-
He liked him more than best friends did.
He missed the nights spent talking to each other, missed the stolen glances and knowing smiles, missed the feeling of a hand threading through his. Missed the quiet baritone of his voice, missed the way his eyes lit up when he heard something he loved. But that was before, and Wei Wuxian couldn't shake off the feeling it was too late. What does this mean? He'd never been able to tell,not really, between liking and loving someone. But something with Lan Zhan felt deeper, somehow.
Loving him was as easy as breathing. He did it every passing second, because there was nothing about him that Wei Ying didn't love. There was no reason, he just did. Maybe that's why he hadn't realized earlier. Love came in odd ways, and sometimes love wasn't the amazingly complicated thing people made it out to be. Love didn't always mean fire, it didn't always mean butterflies in your stomach when you talked to someone, looked at them. Sometimes love was simply a cozy feeling in your stomach, much like the warm, fuzzy feeling of drinking hot chocolate when your gazes locked, the feeling that they'd be there, no matter what. The feeling that you wanted to spend every waking second with them, even though it was okay to be apart. The thrill and pleasant hum of emotions when you heard them talk, knowing you could listen to them go on and on for hours and never get bored, knowing their eyes were on you when you spoke, knowing that they listened, no matter how ridiculous or inconsequential what you were saying was. Because they loved you, and you loved them too.
The feeling was at odds with anything Wei Wuxian had ever seen in the media, the idea of seeing someone and feeling sparks, the idea that you could take one look at the person, and you just knew. Maybe it was possible for some people, but that wasn't the case for Wei Ying. At least, he didn't think so. (Oh, how wrong you're going to be, Wei Wuxian.) Maybe that's why he mistook attraction for liking, mistook infatuation for love. He was a mess, that much he knew. I fucked up. The thought rang through his head repeatedly, like a broken mantra. Enough that when he looked up again, the other boy was long gone. The things in his hands seemed to stare back at him, taunting him. Shaking his head as if it'd bring him out of his stupor, he quickly packed his things up, and headed back to the dorm.
Their dorm. The room felt empty, despite the things crammed into every nook and cranny of the room, from the plushies overflowing Wei Wuxian's bed, that seemed to invade Wangji's in the form of a singular black bunny, twin to the white one on Wei Ying's bed, the books stacked haphazardly on the floor, to the pictures plastered over the walls. Yet it felt as if all energy had been sucked out of the room, leaving Wei Ying with nothing but an empty void, with nothing but wistful memories. Every corner of the room was haunted. It felt like he was walking on hallowed ground, the walls filled with traces of Lan Zhan. Every inch was plastered with memories of him, and if Wei Ying closed his eyes, he could see him in his mind's eye again. Staring back at him fondly, smiling, the way he rarely did with anyone else. A smile reserved just for you, Yanli had whispered to him once, a knowing glint in her eye. Am I the only one who didn't realise? (yes, yes you are.)
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Mdzs Oneshots
أدب الهواةCover created by @LuvLaws. Please check them out! They say that the red thread of Fate binds all, but each thread is made of more threads, interlinked with one another. With every different line comes a different fate, and let's see where that brin...
