yes, he thinks. perhaps it is. but, lan wangji's heart has always been foolish. it has loved against what all would consider wise of this disciple, this second jade of lan, but it has never lied. it has never has never steered itself to make easier the truth. it has only known the sun of wei wuxian, the newer rains of jiang cheng. it has only known what what it is to burn from the outside in, until no part was left to lan wangji that was not theirs to begin to. and yet, jiang cheng still questions it. and lan wangji knows it to be his own fault.
and lan wangji knows it to be that it is either this, or to suffer the fires of his own wanting. like his mother, in that lonely house — like his father, left forever pining. and no matter how it was the gentians blanketed the mountainside in blues, it had forever been an absence and a haunting. two, left to suffer what it was they built. two, with their two children, never knowing the depth of it.
and still, his mother never wavered. and is father never spoke of it. and lan wangji feels the swell of his own passions, the roots tangled and rotted, and swallows about the way they crowd to form their sounds in ways more useless than meaningful, more meaningful than useless. ]
You are different, [ he starts slowly, as though each dismissal does not make him bleed. and his words are viced in his throat, as if he were to loosen hold on them, they would too wither and die. and like this, he moves his thoughts forward. each painful inch for which he tries, a sort of hollowing. in that cave back then, with wei wuxian — their wei ying — ] That is not bad.
[ it isn't. it never was. and still, he continues. senseless as he knows it to be, it is what jiang cheng must know. ]
Wei Ying is Wei Ying. You are you.
[ jiang cheng, stubborn and waiting for him to awaken. jiang cheng, with tea settled between them. jiang cheng, drunk and loose and prideful nonetheless. ]
Neither of us are him.
[ there is only one wei ying. one, in all the world and the next. and it is the only one he wants. it is the only one that lan wangji will ever want. there is only one such as him. ]
I, [ he starts again, the knit of his brows more visible against the fall of the sun. and still, he tries. he tries. he tries. ] Always saw you. You with him. You — [ you did not see me, and yet I love you no less for it says the ugliest parts of him. and while it is true, he keeps such things in check. there is no reason to hurt, to be hurt more than he is. ] were happy. Hard not to notice.
[ restrained and somehow wild where it is that wei wuxian touched. he was beautiful, in a different way. and while lan wangji did not love him as immediately as wei wuxian, did not love him for as long as desperately — ]
I only know what I have chosen here, [ he finishes, finally. his voice sincere as it is always, its edges clear beyond a single wavering. and he closes his teeth about it, soft. and still, his eyes only skim at jiang cheng's lit edge. ] I know only this one.
[ he only knows only what he knows now. he does not know as jiang cheng does. he does not know and he stays, regardless. he stays and takes in each and every poison, drinks them evenly until all within him numbs. ]
no subject
yes, he thinks. perhaps it is. but, lan wangji's heart has always been foolish. it has loved against what all would consider wise of this disciple, this second jade of lan, but it has never lied. it has never has never steered itself to make easier the truth. it has only known the sun of wei wuxian, the newer rains of jiang cheng. it has only known what what it is to burn from the outside in, until no part was left to lan wangji that was not theirs to begin to. and yet, jiang cheng still questions it. and lan wangji knows it to be his own fault.
and lan wangji knows it to be that it is either this, or to suffer the fires of his own wanting. like his mother, in that lonely house — like his father, left forever pining. and no matter how it was the gentians blanketed the mountainside in blues, it had forever been an absence and a haunting. two, left to suffer what it was they built. two, with their two children, never knowing the depth of it.
and still, his mother never wavered. and is father never spoke of it. and lan wangji feels the swell of his own passions, the roots tangled and rotted, and swallows about the way they crowd to form their sounds in ways more useless than meaningful, more meaningful than useless. ]
You are different, [ he starts slowly, as though each dismissal does not make him bleed. and his words are viced in his throat, as if he were to loosen hold on them, they would too wither and die. and like this, he moves his thoughts forward. each painful inch for which he tries, a sort of hollowing. in that cave back then, with wei wuxian — their wei ying — ] That is not bad.
[ it isn't. it never was. and still, he continues. senseless as he knows it to be, it is what jiang cheng must know. ]
Wei Ying is Wei Ying. You are you.
[ jiang cheng, stubborn and waiting for him to awaken. jiang cheng, with tea settled between them. jiang cheng, drunk and loose and prideful nonetheless. ]
Neither of us are him.
[ there is only one wei ying. one, in all the world and the next. and it is the only one he wants. it is the only one that lan wangji will ever want. there is only one such as him. ]
I, [ he starts again, the knit of his brows more visible against the fall of the sun. and still, he tries. he tries. he tries. ] Always saw you. You with him. You — [ you did not see me, and yet I love you no less for it says the ugliest parts of him. and while it is true, he keeps such things in check. there is no reason to hurt, to be hurt more than he is. ] were happy. Hard not to notice.
[ restrained and somehow wild where it is that wei wuxian touched. he was beautiful, in a different way. and while lan wangji did not love him as immediately as wei wuxian, did not love him for as long as desperately — ]
I only know what I have chosen here, [ he finishes, finally. his voice sincere as it is always, its edges clear beyond a single wavering. and he closes his teeth about it, soft. and still, his eyes only skim at jiang cheng's lit edge. ] I know only this one.
[ he only knows only what he knows now. he does not know as jiang cheng does. he does not know and he stays, regardless. he stays and takes in each and every poison, drinks them evenly until all within him numbs. ]