Chapter Text
It was cold. The morning dew lingering despite his being inside, hanging off his brow like spiders.
A heartbeat thumped in echo around the gym and he found peace in the steady rhythm as he breathed calmly in time with his strikes. Crack. In. Crack. Out.
Each breath was measured, even. Each was a part of the self he put into the world, and by extension, the impression that he gave to others. He wasted neither.
But Lan Wangji was not proud, nor was he arrogant. Though he excelled with a sword, even a replica from the drama department such as this, he would never say that he was any better than the others students at Lanling University. Much like, when praised for his diligence and hard work in all areas of study, he would neither accept or reject the praise.
He was not better. He just was.
What was it that his uncle had always said? Harmony is the value. Among many, many other family rules that Lan Qiren had pressed upon Lan Wangji since he could remember.
Lan Wangji had thought he had achieved harmony a while ago, through studious devotion to the Lan family rules, his studies at school and now college; in the way he had moulded himself into the perfect student, the perfect disciple of balance.
But the last few months had tested him. And though frustration was a relative stranger to him, he knew its cause better than he would like to admit.
Breathing softly between his lips, Lan Wangji rose into the dance of the fight, the world narrowing to the sword in his hands and the mannequin. Waking up as early as he did, Lan Wangji could avoid even the most assured of enthusiasts - and that was just how he preferred it. The gym had begun opening its doors much earlier, just for him, allowing him to train as often as he liked. Perhaps they’d hoped he would join the fencing team. Regardless, Lan Wangji thought of the gym at this hour as his own, where neither his thoughts or his day could be interrupted.
And yet.
The sword emitted a soft hiss as it split the air and cleaved a deep gouge in the stiff mannequin. He breathed out, and struck again. Here was where he excelled, in the bright calm space of the gym and in the moments of his breath. This was control. This was peace.
Lan Wangji was not ignorant. He knew what some of the other students thought of him. How they thought he saw himself.
Too quiet. Too rigid. That the straightness of his spine was righteous, somehow. How he didn’t know the flare of a wide pupil, nor the breaking seam that came with giving in to the excesses of the world.
He also delved deep enough into the pit of himself that he could make their words slip off like water from the oil he used to wax his guqin. Those that didn’t understand were quick to judge, and it suited no one for him to rise to it.
He stilled, tightening his grip on Bichen - if he was to spar with a drama department’s sword, it would at least have a grand name - and heard nothing for a moment but for the steady fill of his lungs, the gym quiet so early in the morning.
But ... there.
Footsteps. The quiet click of a door in the foyer. A shadow on the cusp of his attention that snagged.
He did not sigh, just pocketed the bright burst of distraction and let it dissolve into nothing. He sheathed Bichen and lifted his hands to remove the blindfold from his face. The world appeared in shades of grey and red; the college’s colours splashed over the inside of the gym in garish streaks.
Lan Wangi was not stupid. He knew where this distraction had come from. Where it had been coming from for months now. They had both joined Lanling at the same time, and a whole year had passed since Lan Wangji had laid eyes on Wei Wuxian wandering the corridors and pathways of the campus. And now, much to his own frustration as much as anything else, he could now distinguish this particular set of footsteps from the other hundreds around the college.
The figure that walked towards him now had been flitting on the edges of Lan Wangji’s horizon for months. A year. Circling in orbit but Lan Wangji had kept him at a distance. Had been filled with a fizzing sort of anger that wasn’t anger at all at the boy; because who has he to be so … loud? So obnoxious? So cataclysmically other than Lan Wangji.
He had seen him in the corridors of the large, ornate campus, laughing or chatting with the two other Yunmeng siblings Jian Cheng and Jian Yanli, who had transferred from out of town. Laughing and chatting with Nie Huaisang, or Jin Zixuan, sons of the families Lan Wangji’s uncle, Lan Qiren, was close to. In truth, Lan Wangji had observed him slipping into the sects at Lanling University with the smoothness of a glove over a hand.
Lan Wangji had made no effort to greet or welcome the trio, preferring to stick to the sidelines when it came to the social etiquette of university.
It was only when it seemed there was no other conceivable option but to engage with this bright, buzzing distraction that Lan Wangji did so. Four months into their first year. When the whispering and giggles, the flicking notes and sleeping in class had got too much for Lan Wangji to stomach without an open display of disapproval.
They had merely met eyes across the room of their philosophy class. But Lan Wangji had felt it like a kick to the chest.
A moment that weighed on him as heavy as the iron grey of Wei Wuxian’s eyes. He’d felt it like the pressure of an oncoming storm.
Since then, whatever rules governed the ways of the world, Lan Wangji decided that they were beginning to irk him. And as soon as they had come back from the summer break and started second year, it had seemed as though there was an invisible cord that was tied about his wrist connected inexplicably to this tidal wave in human form.
Lan Wangji thought that weeks up in the calm, tranquil places of Gusu would resettle the waters of his mind. But he felt them rippling again, too easily.
Now Wei Wuxian walked towards him in a way that struck a chord deep inside Lan Wangji, somewhere he hadn’t experienced before. It wasn’t as if Wei Wuxian didn’t attract eyes wherever he went, Lan Wangji had observed the warm gazes and hopeful smiles that were passed along like a game of whispers from one student to another wherever Wei Wuxian went. No, Lan Wangji was not ignorant enough to say that Wei Wuxian was not beautiful. That as much was clear.
No, it was purely because no matter how hard Lan Wangji attempted to brush Wei Wuxian aside, his classmate rose again and again, blowing life into the embers of the fires that Lan Wangji had only just extinguished.
Lan Wangji stifled the slow burn that made his bones feel softer than usual whenever he glimpsed Wei Wuxian, as his classmate approached. A smile playing around his mouth already.
Do not be of two minds. His uncle’s words, passed down the Lan generations, rang clearly as a bell and Lan Wangji felt the urge to re-lay his feathers; he was ruffled.
Distracted from training - distracted, yet again, by Wei Wuxian.
“Ah, Lan Zhan, you’re really showing that dummy who’s boss. One day you’ll take its head off, and what will we practise with then, eh?”
Wei Wuxian strolled easily up the steps that lead onto the raised dias where Lan Wangji was practising. Had been practising. In peace, he thought, seeing the wry smile on Wei Wuxian’s face and knowing that hard-sought peace was at its end.
Lan Wangji did not respond, just folded the blindfold meticulously into this pocket and then went about the careful process of packing his things into his bag that lay at the edge of the dias. Unfortunately, the shoulder that he turned towards his classmate did not seem to send a large enough message.
Wei Wuxian simply strolled to Lan Wangji’s side and slouched a little against the thin rail that blocked off the dias from the rest of the gym - mostly for fear of unpracticed students accidentally cutting their classmates to shreds - and titled his head in the manner of someone who wore their grace like a two-day-old sweatshirt; on display, ratted around the edges. Impossible.
“Lan Zhan, you are so stubborn. You heard what I said, right?” He smiled, easily. Easier than Lan Wangji had ever managed in his years growing up in Gusu. “What are you even doing in here? It’s so lonely and quiet.”
Lan Wangji refrained from asking him the same question. He knew that Wei Wuxian did not enjoy early mornings. Wei Wuxian shuddered as though the thought of being away from the gossiping bodies of campus was simply too much to bear. Though Lan Wangji told himself he’d not noticed, it would be a lie if he said that Wei Wuxian suited isolation; he was not a creature of habit or quiet, like Lan Wangji.
Lan Wangji remained quiet. Not a ripple on the pond. Inside, he was asking himself why this boy felt the need to lump his presence on him like the last dregs of congee.
Had he not followed the Lan rules in some way, broken some family honour he had not understood, and Wei Wuxian’s insistent presence was somehow punishment for his discretions?
Staying quiet hadn’t dissuaded his classmate. Neither had ignoring him completely, which Lan Wangji was wont to do with most of the students he encountered. He’d forged a routine here, and it had been going perfectly well until some sort of muted hurricane, the first of its kind, had blown across his tracks and smiled with the face of Wei Wuxian.
“Ah, well Lan Zhan, before you ask - because I know you’re just dying to - no, I wasn’t following you. You should be so lucky!” Wei Wuxian grinned, then pouted a little when he saw that Lan Wangji just continued to fold his practice things into his bag. The soft leathers of the blindfold, the oils, his gloves and sheaths. “Lan Zhan, are you listening to me?”
Lan Wangji waited a moment, packing in careful silence. But in the corner of his eye he saw the mop of dark hair and an open face, watching him expectantly with stone grey eyes.
What particular shade were they today? That he asked himself this frustrated him two-fold, not only because his mind wandered off into the realm of what Wei Wuxian’s eyes looked like in the first place, but because he knew the answer. That because the hour was early, they would be frost. But later, they would have darkened with the retreating sun into moody slate.
Ridiculous. Observing Wei Wuxian’s eye colour was no good for anyone.
Because although Lan Wangji would profess indifference to anyone that might ask about Wei Wuxian, and had done everything in his power not to notice the tall, slim boy now folding his arms beside him, he would be breaking one of the family rules if he said he had succeeded.
Lan Wangji had seen. And in his own way, he had not looked away.
“Lan Zhan! You really are gonna ignore me? I can’t believe it,” Wei Wuxian voice rose in mock disbelief, clearly enjoying himself. He raised a plaintive hand to his chest. “You’re hurting my feelings Lan Zhan, I hope you know that. Only rude guys ignore perfectly honest and well-meaning people like me - and you are the rudest of them all I think, Lan Zhan - ”
“Wei Wuxian, what?” Lan Wangji said, curtly. Breaking under the pressure of Wei Wuxian’s tumbling speech. The familiarity Wei Wuxian’s lips had with his name was difficult to endure.
He could tell that Wei Wuxian was smiling at him in that peculiar way he had.
“You sure woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, Lan Zhan, and that's saying something.”
“I did not.”
“Sure sure Lan Zhan. Anyway,” and Wei Wuxian was speaking again, burning through words like an oil lamp does fuel. He chattered aimlessly as they left the gym and across the quiet courtyard towards the main campus. Wei Wuxian refused to take notice of the silence that Lan Wangji offered him and filled it with words about people Lan Wangji had no interest in, and no desire to know in the future.
Lan Wangji walked with purpose through the small square with its sprouting trees and trimmed grass, the hard-edged buildings stacked on top of one another to form a mass of lecture halls, classrooms and dormitories on the west wing. Wei Wuxian on the other hand, rolled like water alongside him. Flitting in and out of brick archways, running his hands through his dark hair so that it flopped every which way.
“You know Nie Huaisang, from our class? Well he’s throwing a party in two weeks on Saturday, I heard about it from Shijie today. It sounds fun, so I was thinking of going if you - ”
“No.”
Wei Wuxian glanced at him with his slate eyes, and Lan Wangji pressed down the peculiar wobble that went through his whole body when their eyes met, even for a moment.
“You haven’t even heard about this party yet, Lan Zhan, how do you know it won’t be fun?”
“It does not matter. Drinks, loud parties, are forbidden. Family rules. ”
Wei Wuxian stared at him, “You’re not allowed to drink? Tell me you’re joking, Lan Zhan. I know your family is strict but - parties?” He looked as though this was some great grievance.
Lan Wangji just glanced at him, then fixed his eyes ahead once more. “I do not joke.”
“Oh Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian said, “you don’t understand. Parties are the best bit of university - I feel sorry for you Lan Zhan, I really do. I guess I’ll just have to take Nie Huaisang as my date! Maybe we’ll send you pictures.”
Lan Wangji bit down a response about regretting giving Wei Wuxian his number, because he realised, that too would have been breaking one of the rules.
And when Nie Huaisang appeared around the corner of campus like Wei Wuxian had somehow summoned him, he convinced himself that the strange feeling in his stomach was just hunger. The heaviness in his legs was just tiredness from training.
—
Lan Wangji’s tea was too hot, but he drank it anyway. He sat cross-legged at the low table that he’d bought for himself upon moving into his dormitory room, looking out at the fog that rolled in from the hills surrounding the campus.
He had already meditated for two hours this morning, maintaining that an hour more than usual would help clear the fog that had entered his mind. He needed the extra fortitude.
Saturday had come, and Wei Wuxian had not showed up for class two days in a row.
And despite his unceasing desire to be a menace to everyone and everything, Wei Wuxian could not abide being beaten. Since the academic year had begun Lan Wangji had found himself partnered with Wei Wuxian enough times that he’d come to expect the hard competitive edge that made Wei Wuxian fight his corner in arguments, and even try to jostle Lan Wangji’s position at top of the university.
So when Lan Wangji did not glimpse his easy figure amongst the small crowd of students outside their geometry class, Lan Wangji told himself he had no business being Wei Wuxian’s keeper anyway, and pushed his unusual absence from his mind.
But when he walked to and from class and practice, though his eyes did not roam, the pool in his mind lapped a little as if seeking something - someone - in the hallways, and in the spaces between other people.
Now his phone was laid carefully on the small futon next to the low table. But, he was not watching it.
Such did he master this art of careful non-observation, that when his phone chimed just as he found a particularly interesting paragraph in the article he was reading, Lan Wangji grabbed it and slid the screen open in one fluid motion. Something tight in his chest.
Xichen. He read the message quickly, seeing that his older brother was due to arrive any minute, and cast aside the strange sinking feeling at his navel. It didn’t matter. He was not Wei Wuxian’s keeper.
Lan Xichen knocked on the door soon after. Ordinarily, Lan Wangji would have travelled to the family home in Gusu to see his brother; and he craved the fresh clean air, the tang of evergreens and the wide open spaces. But his uncle was using the institute for work, so he found himself entertaining his brother this Saturday morning in the somewhat lacking spaces of his dorm. Though Lan Wangji had made sure it was furnished above the standard dorm room, it was nothing compared to Gusu, nor the tranquil spaces of their family residence in the mountains.
They sat, and Lan Wangji poured him tea. Usually, he found his Saturday meetings with Lan Xichen peaceable, comfortable enough in the calm spaces between their words and the bottomless patience that his brother had for everyone.
But today, Lan Wangji was uncharacteristically restless. He placed his hands in front of him on the table, removed them. He poured more tea. Sipped though it was still scalding.
“How are your classes going?”
“Good.”
“And your swordcraft? ”
“Fine.”
“I am glad there is a space for you to practice your skill.”
“I suspect that Uncle made sure of it.”
Lan Xichen said nothing to that, but did not disagree, either. Their uncle was not one to enter into confrontation with lightly.
“Professor Qing mentioned that you had seemed distracted of late, during your music lessons.”
Lan Wangji glanced at his brother briefly, before returning to his cup of tea. The leaves were stringent - but that was probably because he left them to steep too long accidentally. Rather than the fact he was worrying.
“Professor Qing has many students to observe, to her we likely all seem distracted compared to her focus.”
Lan Wangji was aiming to begin tuition at the Lanling Institute anyway, so he cast aside unfortunately perceptive observations of Professor Qing.
Lan Xichen made no comment, just sipped his tea. Looked at Lan Wangji with eyes that saw too much, and guarded little. He said nothing to the tea, but placed the cup gently back on the table and gave Wangji another look with an expression that said he already knew the answer to his question, but he was just asking to do the decent thing.
“There is nothing, or no one, bothering you at the moment?”
“No.”
“Have you considered what I said, before you left? It would be good for you to make friends, Wangji.”
“No one interests me.”
Lan Xichen gave a little nod, as if to himself, and only sipped his tea again. He would not prod Lan Wangji, though Lan Wangji knew his brother had always been entirely too perceptive when it came to whatever was on his mind. He had always struggled to hide things from Lan Xichen.
“Mmm,” Lan Xichen hummed in thought, “the Spring festival is close. You will journey back to Gusu, to see us for the week? It is almost mid-January already. Uncle is asking after you. He wishes to know how your studies go, he believes you are doing great things.” Lan Xichen gave Lan Wangji a measured, open look. “And although I understand if you want to stay here, if perhaps there are friends you want to celebrate the festival with, I don’t think Uncle would be so forgiving. He values tradition.”
Lan Wangji removed his hands from the knees. He should stop fidgeting so - his brother would notice. He did not miss the soft warning. Lan Xichen had always harboured his best interests at heart, and Lan Wangji knew that. But there were times when Lan tradition did not suffer exceptions.
And ordinarily, Lan Wangji would not have minded the break from campus. From the busy city and its people. He clamoured for fresh air. And yet - there was a small part of him that sunk a little at the thought.
“I will come back to Gusu. It is too noisy, here. I miss Cloud Recesses.” And no one has asked.
Lan Xichen left a couple of hours later, after they whiled the time away with gentle conversation where Xichen navigated around what was clearly on his brother’s mind, and Lan Wangji refused to tell him. Lan Wangji had cooked them lunch, and was thankful for the silence.
But once his brother had left, and Lan Wangji was alone again in the space of his room, he found that the distraction that had been buzzing around his head only worsened. An ache had formed behind his eyelids, that not even playing his guqin could remedy. So Lan Wangji did what he did best; he worked on his university papers for the coming weeks, and ignored the sour taste in his mouth every time he glanced at his phone to see nothing new. He would not name the worry, because then that was admitting to himself that he was worried. And where would he find himself then? Discordant. Out of balance.
Lan Wangji could not remember having a worse Saturday.
-
He’d been playing when his phone had buzzed. And though he had been waiting for it all day, perhaps even since he noticed a distinctly Wei Wuxian shaped hole next to him in the hallway two days ago - it took him a moment to realise he was not hallucinating it.
“Wei Wuxian.”
“Lan Zhan,” a velvet voice said down the phone - though it was raspier than usual, like he’d sucked on the incense that Lan Wangji had been burning all day.
Because Lan Wangji had felt particularly like there was a ghost, a shadow hanging around him the last few weeks - like whenever he awoke it was as if he’d just missed someone speaking. And the feeling had only worsened when he thought about why Wei Wuxian had not come to class.
So he’d burned sage to clear his mind. And to clear whatever it was from his dormitory. Lan Xichen would have smiled knowingly, if he were here to see Lan Wangji stoically smudging the clean, functional areas of his dorm. But his brother would have let him get on with it, and said nothing to the fact that the ghost around Lan Wangji’s shoulders was not a ghost at all, but Wei Wuxian.
“Lan Zhan, are you ignoring me again? I thought you would be happy to hear from me,” the voice continued on the phone, but Lan Wangji was half-caught on a rope of his own making. He’d wanted Wei Wuxian to call him. But now that he could hear the other boy breathing down the line, he didn’t know what to say.
“Not ignoring,” Lan Wangji replied, standing like a spare string from his guqin in the middle of his room.
“And here I was thinking that telling lies wasn’t allowed in your family,” the voice said breezily, though there was an edge to it. There was a beat of silence.
“Lan Zhan, I could use some company.”
-
Lan Wangji was surprised at himself, when he had agreed to meet Wei Wuxian at the campus gates in ten minutes. It was just after seven; he would normally be playing guqin or reading in the quiet, the peace, of his room, eating dinner and beginning the slow ritual of preparing for bed at nine. Do not work after 9 PM.
Not walking across the courtyard to meet a boy who sounded like he had sucked down half a barrel’s worth of liquor.
And Lan Wangji was even more surprised at the fact that he’d agreed easily to Wei Wuxian’s request. It troubled him, if he was honest. Fluidity was dangerous. Water carved and ran in all directions if left unchecked; toppling over itself until it became a destructive force. Better to be the river banks, made of stone. Better to guide, than be guided.
But Wei Wuxian could not be guided, and so Lan Wangji found himself in dire proximity to breaking a family rule to persuade Wei Wuxian not to do anything too drastic. Because, Lan Wangji had swiftly found out that Wei Wuxian abided by no rules but his own.
The cold night air jangled in his lungs in the courtyard outside of his dorm building, and Lan Wangji gave a cursory glance up at the bright waxing moon. Do not judge me too harshly.
Wei Wuxian was sitting at the gates of campus. He sat like a mound of dirt, sprawled out on the flagstone steps that lead up to the campus. And though his back was facing Lan Wangji, he recognised the particular slump that Wei Wuxian adopted when he’d been drinking.
Lan Wangji tamed the heartbeat that gulped and swallowed his blood around his body too fast, and walked softly towards the dark figure of Wei Wuxian. Who apparently hadn’t heard him coming.
“Wei Wuxian,” Lan Wangji said, a few paces off, and Wei Wuxian twisted where he sat with a shocked expression. Then surprise burst on his face and formed a smile. Lan Wangji looked him over, once, twice, in a way he hoped was subtle. Nothing seemed out of place - Wei Wuxian was fine.
But he was drunk.
He patted the concrete step next to him, still smiling at Lan Wangji, and there was a sloppiness to his movements that Lan Wangji hadn’t seen before.
“Lan Zhan!” he grinned, holding the amber-coloured bottle he held in one hand up as though in salute, “you came!”
“Wei Wuxian, where have you been? Why have you been drinking?”
The other boy’s face dropped into a playfully abashed expression before he waggled the bottle at Lan Wangji a little and said, “Ahhh, it’s nice to see you too Lan Zhan.”
Lan Wangji did not respond. Now that he knew Wei Wuxian was okay, outwardly, he focused on controlling his heartbeat. It moved like a wild thing against his ribs and he half resented it, the painful thrumming. But mostly he felt relief. Even just seeing Wei Wuxian settled the nerves that had tingled in his fingertips the last two days.
“You sure know how to make a guy feel welcome, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian sighed, looking at his feet. “But why not drink? I like the taste. And I’ve been nowhere. Just around. Why, did you miss me?” He followed this with a spiked smile and patted the step again.
Lan Wangji did not respond, just toyed with the notion of leaving Wei Wuxian here on the steps to his alcohol and have done with him. But, even the idea was a lie.
So he perched on the concrete step next to Wei Wuxian, whose face burst into a grin so bright it felt like they’d passed hours there on the steps by the gates, and the sun was rising on Lan Wangji’s skin.
He waited, trusting his instinct that said Wei Wuxian would talk if he wanted to. Wei Wuxian was always talking, so his hesitancy sat like a rock in his stomach. Wei Wuxian shrugged a little, taking another pull from the bottle, and Lan Wangji found that the tether of the patience he hadn’t known he was extending was fraying. “Impossible,” he said under his breath, and rose swiftly. His coat swished with his quick strides.
“Eh! Lan Zhan! Don’t leave!”
Lan Wangji did not turn around, just walked back toward the campus.
“I cannot stay. I cannot make you do anything, so I won’t ask you. But you disappear, and don’t say where you have been. And now you drink, and want to bring that liquor onto campus. It is too much.”
“Lan Zhan!” He tried to keep walking, but the note to Wei Wuxian’s voice - he stopped. Turned slowly, keeping his face impassive though he felt more than he had in months. Years.
Wei Wuxian raised his eyebrows at the most that Lan Wangji has said in a single instance since they met. Lan Wangji ignored the fervour in his voice; he was just tired from a long day. He should be preparing to rest, recover the fortitude that seemed to be inexplicably disappearing the longer he stuck around Wei Wuxian.
“You are angry about the drink? Okay.” Wei Wuxian lobbed the bottle into the nearest waste bin and Lan Wangji fought to roll his eyes in a manner that was decidedly not like himself. “There. Now you don’t have to be angry. And Lan Zhan, I knew it! You did miss me.” But something passed over the smile that ordinarily would have made Lan Wangji’s chest tight. A shadow.
Lan Wangji waited.
“I had an argument,” Wei Wuxian finally said after several long moments of silence, his eyes on his fingers as he fiddled with his sleeves. “At home. I needed to clear my head, get out of the city for a bit.” He laughed again, but it was sharp, bitter. “Turns out, that not everyone’s as forgiving of me as you are, Lan Zhan.”
That Wei Wuxian thought he was forgiving surprised him a little. Because he’d been careful towards Wei Wuxian. Sure, there were fewer times where they had been apart over the last three months than Lan Wangji had fingers, but even so. Lan Wangji felt a discord between his body and his head and his heart.
He thought he had been outwardly cold to Wei Wuxian, easily disapproving, despite the overwhelmed way that Wei Wuxian made him feel. Like he was neck deep in water, only just breathing.
What else had he betrayed to Wei Wuxian without realising?
“What happened?” Lan Wangji asked, glossing over Wei Wuxian’s comment. He did not wish to look too closely at what it meant.
“It was just a fight. I disappoint the Jiang family,” he tried again with a smile, but it did not wipe away the flash of sadness in his eyes. “But it’s over now Lan Zhan, so you can stop worrying. I also realised that A-Cheng might need taking down a few pegs after not having me around, so I came back. And - ” he waved to himself.
Lan Wangji did not respond, he just watched Wei Wuxian move his mouth like there was a bad taste in his mouth. Something in his gut unspooling a little at how easily Wei Wuxian carried himself. Though it was off, like he was carrying something on his shoulders tonight.
“Why did you call me?”
Wei Wuxian stilled, and Lan Wangji thought that for once, he would not answer. But then -
“Ah Lan Zhan isn’t it obvious?” Then he smiled a touch and drank, giving the bottle an appreciative look. “I’m drunk, misery loves company, and it seemed especially fun to spend an evening nettling the most mysterious Lan sibling. Well, an evening for you.” He looked at Lan Wangji then, pursing his lips. Wei Wuxian stepped closer, and a bolt of warmth passed through him. Stronger than the worry, than the nerves he’d been carrying but not admitting. He stepped back from the force of it. Wei Wuxian, of course, barely even noticed.
Lan Wangji crushed the rush of heat that flooded his body - kept it from his face and ears through sheer force of will. But as they stepped into the ring of light from one of the campus lamps, his confusion when it came to Wei Wuxian was stripped from his mind.
His face was pinched, like he hadn’t slept well. There were soft rings around his eyes, and although he was talking, Lan Wangji suddenly struggled to make out the words that usually cut through the noise. His ears were buzzing at the subtle differences in Wei Wuxian.
Because, in all his knowledge of philosophies, laws and concepts, Lan Wangji found himself woefully lacking when it came to understanding what his body was telling him. What his pumping heart was saying when it constricted at the very slight changes in Wei Wuxian.
The dark jacket he wore was too thin for the night air that chilled Lan Wangji despite his coat.
Deciding, Lan Wangji shrugged it off. The olive-coloured wool thick and heavy as he held it out to Wei Wuxian.
“Take it.”
Wei Wuxian just looked at the coat. “I’m fine, Lan Zhan. It’s not cold.”
“Wei Wuxian, you are cold. Do not make me ask twice.”
The other boy took the coat, wrapping it around himself and snuggling in despite his protests. His face warmed with a small smile, then he shoved his hands into the deep pockets. “Thanks, Lan Zhan.”
They walked in silence to where the paths split and Lan Wangji’s dorm was one direction and Wei Wuxian the other. Lan Wangji just looked at him for a moment. Wei Wuxian was not his to mind. Wei Wuxian was no one’s but his own, and certainly nothing close to Lan Wangji’s in any sense, he allowed himself one small luxury in saying, “You should rest. You missed classes.
Wei Wuxian had seemingly recovered from the dip in his demeanour, and smiled once at Lan Wanghi. A bit of colour in his face now he wore Lan Wanghi’s coat. “Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan. You worry too much.”
“I do not.”
He turned from Wei Wuxian, the cold night air cutting through the thin shirt he had on. At least Wei Wuxian was back.
-
Away from the smell of the night and the sharp tang of whatever liquor Wei Wuxian had been drinking, Lan Wangji tried to ignore how he not left behind obstinate troublemaker Wei Wuxian, but someone whose edges Lan Wangji could see like cut glass.
And that made Lan Wangji fizz with something he couldn’t name, but it was bright and painful, and brought with it a notion to break rules himself, which he couldn’t understand in the slightest. The thought of someone dimming the brightness in Wei Wuxian’s expression elicited a particularly painful desire to shield Wei Wuxian and take the brunt himself.
There was a tug somewhere around his naval that he couldn’t name. Ripples in the usually calm pool of his mind.
It was eight thirty pm, and Lan Wangji had far too much restless energy than was decent, especially for this time.
As he sat as his guqin in the cool, quiet of his dormitory room, Lan Wangji did not think of the shadows wrapping themselves around a slim, tall figure. He did not think of the particular note that he might have attributed to a wistful look. Neither did he let himself take notice of the unsettled feeling that had crept into his bones; like they no longer belonged entirely to him.
In fact, as he played, he thought of nothing at all. He was clarity. This was control.