VDay Lockers 2021

[themorninglark]

This is a masterpost for my 2021 vday locker fills!

Comments

for van // chengxian, in the rain

[themorninglark]

Wei Wuxian’s leaning way out over the prow, staring at his own reflection like he’s never seen it before. Like they never snuck out to play on a stolen boat, like they never drifted too far, too fast, too young, like the lake itself and all its lotuses had never caught ablaze. It still hasn’t stopped, the burning. So Jiang Cheng doesn’t look.

This much will sear itself, whether he likes it or not, upon his memory: the sweep of a red and black sleeve trailing into the water. The shadows that darken the space between them, as the clouds roil overhead and turn the sunset a fierce shade of bruising. The shape of a man who is not his brother.

Jiang Cheng, he calls, facing the horizon. Jiang Cheng, I think it’s going to rain.

Not his brother, and yet, there is no one left in the world who calls him by his name. Only this man, in a body an inch too short and a smile like a phoenix on fire. Ashes and sparks, sparks and ashes.

If he’d help Jiang Cheng to row, they’d be back before the rain started. But fleeing from an oncoming storm has never been Wei Wuxian’s style, in his last life or this one. Even as night begins to fall, he’s still looking away from home. No. No longer home. I wish you’d stay. Every time, Jiang Cheng thinks of saying it, and he never does. He has not grown so selfless as to lie with impunity.

The day the lake burned. His parents’ death anniversary. A scorching, a rebirth, everything that broke them down and brought them here today. Would he give up this life now, for a dream where none of it ever happened; would he look into that water and reach his hand out to the ghosts? Is that why he cannot bring himself to face the flames?

No, he does not wish Wei Wuxian would stay. What he does wish—

Wei Wuxian turns back at last, eyes bright. Do you think there’ll be soup, he asks, when we get back?

Yes, says Jiang Cheng. Yes, there will.