( the only thing that has helped xiao xingchen keep it together for the past many years has been routine. it's something he learned young and managed to apply in his everyday since — focus, dedication, and a wayward lifestyle is all one needs to set the soul at peace.
of course, his routine has shifted somewhat significantly in the last few months. for quite a time, it was just himself and a-qing making do and getting by, xingchen not allowing his blindness to effect in him in any real negative away, except for the constant ostracizing, and for isolating himself from who was, at a certain and significant part of his life, his only friend. this was easy, of course. it's imaginable that a blind man's course is always dark and frightening, but xingchen was pleased to walk it, happy to offer his eyesight for what he believed was a greater power. so — it's not a bad life for awhile, though it is empty, with hollow corners and quite nights, the rustle of leaves easily mistakable by a-qing's plucky fingers unwrapping hard candies.
then xue yang appeared, and the routine changed again. a mysterious stranger, a broken leg, and a pathway to recovery. the guise didn't last long — for a few nights it was pleasant, and then at the reveal of who xue yang was, it was. tense, and coarse, and. shockingly to none more so than xingchen himself, not unpleasant. xue yang is a being capable of terrible, soul shattering and life ruining things, but. he also says things to get xingchen to laugh, and he carries his basket to the market sometimes, and fills a void in xingchen named loneliness. in the moonlight there are things that only xingchen can see in him, like a profound sorrow that cakes the soul in tar, or a boldness impassioned only by fear of the ordinary.
his kisses are also sweeter than hard candies, and twice as sharp.
and now, the latest and last addition to xingchen's routine — song lan himself. at the start of all things, xingchen had to beg him not to kill xue yang, the foolishness of the request not escaping his ears as the words left his lips. of course xue yang deserves to die, but. his presence in xiao xingchen's life has become ... necessary. now they live like this, for the past week or so — xue yang and xiao xingchen on one side of the fire, song lan on the other, a stagnation in progress.
it's after a dinner xingchen had prepared for them that they're back in their usual spots, a normal tense, deadly silence spilt between them. he can feel song lan's eyes like daggers into him but stays sitting upright, a silent meditation keeping him calm. his two partners must be having some invisible conversation with their eyes that xiao xingchen can't hear — because in a moment, xue yang's head is in his lap, and xingchen sets his hands in his hair and at his neck, instinctively soothing him. )
Zichen, ( xiao xingchen huffs out after a moment, eyebrows knitted. his head gives a slight nod, inclining towards them. ) come sit with us. Won't you?
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of course, his routine has shifted somewhat significantly in the last few months. for quite a time, it was just himself and a-qing making do and getting by, xingchen not allowing his blindness to effect in him in any real negative away, except for the constant ostracizing, and for isolating himself from who was, at a certain and significant part of his life, his only friend. this was easy, of course. it's imaginable that a blind man's course is always dark and frightening, but xingchen was pleased to walk it, happy to offer his eyesight for what he believed was a greater power. so — it's not a bad life for awhile, though it is empty, with hollow corners and quite nights, the rustle of leaves easily mistakable by a-qing's plucky fingers unwrapping hard candies.
then xue yang appeared, and the routine changed again. a mysterious stranger, a broken leg, and a pathway to recovery. the guise didn't last long — for a few nights it was pleasant, and then at the reveal of who xue yang was, it was. tense, and coarse, and. shockingly to none more so than xingchen himself, not unpleasant. xue yang is a being capable of terrible, soul shattering and life ruining things, but. he also says things to get xingchen to laugh, and he carries his basket to the market sometimes, and fills a void in xingchen named loneliness. in the moonlight there are things that only xingchen can see in him, like a profound sorrow that cakes the soul in tar, or a boldness impassioned only by fear of the ordinary.
his kisses are also sweeter than hard candies, and twice as sharp.
and now, the latest and last addition to xingchen's routine — song lan himself. at the start of all things, xingchen had to beg him not to kill xue yang, the foolishness of the request not escaping his ears as the words left his lips. of course xue yang deserves to die, but. his presence in xiao xingchen's life has become ... necessary. now they live like this, for the past week or so — xue yang and xiao xingchen on one side of the fire, song lan on the other, a stagnation in progress.
it's after a dinner xingchen had prepared for them that they're back in their usual spots, a normal tense, deadly silence spilt between them. he can feel song lan's eyes like daggers into him but stays sitting upright, a silent meditation keeping him calm. his two partners must be having some invisible conversation with their eyes that xiao xingchen can't hear — because in a moment, xue yang's head is in his lap, and xingchen sets his hands in his hair and at his neck, instinctively soothing him. )
Zichen, ( xiao xingchen huffs out after a moment, eyebrows knitted. his head gives a slight nod, inclining towards them. ) come sit with us. Won't you?
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