Mistaken Love And Hate

4. A Fractured Relationship

On Lan Wangji's eighteenth birthday, Wei Wuxian orchestrated a celebration that was nothing short of grand. The room was adorned with an abundance of golden ribbons, blue balloons, and sparkling lights. A towering cake, decorated with delicate flowers and intricate icing designs, sat like a centerpiece on the long table, while laughter filled the air. Nie Huaisang, Song Lan, and Xue Yang—each with their own peculiarities—were there, mingling and trading barbs in their usual, boisterous manner. Lan Xichen, calm as ever, brought with him his omega boyfriend, Meng Yao, whose quiet elegance contrasted sharply with the chaos surrounding him.

Despite the cacophony of noise, there was a soft glow to the evening, an undeniable warmth that filled the room. Lan Wangji, usually reserved and distant, sat at the head of the table, his stoic expression betraying a flicker of something unspoken. There, for the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to bask in the simple pleasure of being surrounded by friends and family.

"This is... too much," Lan Xichen commented softly, his smile edged with something wistful. "You truly deserve to be celebrated, Wangji."

Wangji glanced toward Wei Wuxian, his gaze momentarily softening. "It's Wei Wuxian," he said, his pride visible. "He always makes a big deal of my birthday."

Meng Yao, ever the observer, raised an eyebrow, his voice smooth but laced with subtle malice. "Perhaps he does it out of guilt, to atone for the damage he's caused?" he suggested, his words cutting through the air like a blade. "To ease the pain of your family's brokenness, which, let's not forget, he is responsible for."

The words hung in the air, thick with accusation. Lan Wangji's face froze, his eyes narrowing as he turned toward Wei Wuxian. The atmosphere in the room shifted, the light dimming as an unspoken tension settled over them all. Lan Wangji shook his head. "It doesn't matter what happened between our parents. Wei Wuxian has never done anything to harm me. I can blame him for what happened to my parents but there is so much I owe him," he stated.

"You owe him, like perhaps the roof over his head or even acceptance into society. I thought that was all him clinging to the Lan family name," Meng Yao suggested. Everyone had fallen silent, unsure of how to navigate the sudden, sharp discomfort.

Wei Wuxian stood motionless, as if the ground beneath him had suddenly shifted. His eyes flickered, just for a moment, but he quickly masked it with a forced smile. His heart raced, but his voice, when he spoke, was a quiet ripple through the charged atmosphere.

"I'm doing what I think is best," Wei Wuxian said, his voice steady but heavy with the weight of years of bearing this accusation. "Not out of guilt, but because you are my family. I always try to make things right."

Wangji's expression darkened, the glint of anger in his eyes unmistakable. Without another word, he stood abruptly, pushing his chair back so violently that it tipped over with a sharp crash. He turned to leave, his footsteps echoing in the sudden silence, but not before delivering his final strike.

"Why have I never thought of this? I am your link to the Lan family. That is why you persist with me, refuse to let me go. But I am an adult now," Lan Wangji emphasized.

"No matter what, you're still that five year old boy who clung to me," Wei Wuxian reiterated.

"You are nothing but a stain," Wangji spat, his words cutting like shards of ice. "A homewrecker, a parasite. Everything you touch is tainted."

Wei Wuxian didn't flinch, but the weight of the words landed on him like a blow. He stood there, hands clenched at his sides, his smile now gone, his heart an open wound. And as Wangji walked away, leaving behind a trail of bitter resentment, it felt like the last sliver of connection between them had been torn away.

Xue Yang, who had been quiet until now, leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. He twirled his drink in his hand, his voice a playful lilt that seemed almost too carefree for the moment.

"Well, this is rich," Xue Yang said, the words dripping with amusement. "So, let me get this straight—Wei Wuxian, the man who's done more for you than anyone else, is somehow the villain here? Come on, Wangji. You've been coddled your entire life, and now you're blaming him for your family's mess? Talk about deflecting."

Lan Xichen looked at Xue Yang, a mixture of surprise and caution in his eyes. "Xue Yang, this isn't the time..."

Xue Yang held up a hand, cutting him off. "Oh, but it is, isn't it? This is the perfect time. Wangji, you need someone to blame, and of course, you pick the one person who's always been there for you. Typical."

Wangji's gaze snapped toward Xue Yang, but the other man didn't flinch. Instead, Xue Yang leaned forward, his grin widening as he continued, "But hey, what do I know? I'm just a rogue with no family to protect, no image to uphold. Just remember this: Wei Wuxian's only flaw is that he cares too much. And that's something you'll never understand."

The tension in the room thickened, but Wangji said nothing. He turned on his heel and stormed out, the door slamming behind him with a finality that seemed to reverberate through the house.

The room was left in stunned silence. No one spoke, as if all the words had been swallowed up by the force of Wangji's departure.

The following days brought nothing but distance—an insurmountable chasm growing between Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji. Wangji, once so quiet and composed, now found his every thought consumed by bitterness and contempt. His respect for his uncle, Lan Qiren, and his elder brother, Lan Xichen, had only deepened, their dignified silence a sharp contrast to Wei Wuxian's reckless disregard for propriety.

"Everything you touch is corrupted," Wangji spat one night, his voice low and venomous. "Your very existence soils everything."

Wei Wuxian, standing before him, felt a pang in his chest. Yet, he spoke with a calm that belied the storm raging inside him. "I've never tried to ruin anything, Wangji. Not once."

The words were lost on Wangji, who was consumed by the image of his family's disintegration. His father's face, his uncle's teachings, his brother's wisdom—all of it seemed to vanish in Wei Wuxian's shadow. Every time Wei Wuxian came close, it was as if the stain of his presence spread further.

"Stop lying to yourself," Wangji sneered. "You are nothing but a poison, and I will never forgive you."

Wei Wuxian's face remained impassive, though his heart ached. The man he had loved, the man who had once been his closest friend, now stood before him as a stranger. The distance between them, once just a crack, had become an abyss. And though Wei Wuxian longed to bridge it, he knew deep down that the rift was too wide.

The days that followed were filled with nothing but silence—save for the sound of Wei Wuxian's quiet sobs at night and Wangji's muttered curses as he drank away his frustrations. There were no more paper cranes, no more moments of shared laughter. Only the deafening silence of a broken bond.