[ Runyu had been reluctant to leave Xingchen after that night in the garden, but as much as he yearned to stay by the warmth of his trusting friend, another part of him needed to leave. To take a moment to gather himself away from his knowing presence.
Xingchen’s earnest gestures were too auspicious to accept in his condition for long, not as someone who had grown used to the hollow regrets that weighed him down in each exchange between Xufeng and himself. His brother had cut the chains of despair from him, but in that same moment, he had set forth the sentencing of his atonement. And in the present state, his generous eyes neither condemned or judged him when he visited, and yet that compromise seemed all the more distancing for Runyu. When still, his brother was better than he at the conclusion of their war.
Xufeng had grown out of his suffering — to put it in painful terms of poetry, he’d found his eternal spring with his flower.
A spring in which Runyu would never belong, even if that spring would offer her forgiveness.
His own hands had destroyed enough there.
And yet the gentle gaze of Xingchen, someone he’d left far behind, in another war nonetheless, did not cause such pains for the Night Immortal. His smile did not expose another hole in his psyche, a loss that Runyu would carefully cover in another period of solitude and work. No whispers of deceit or graceful lies rose to his mind to darken the confessions gifted him because even the filthy corruption within him remained dormant. He didn’t understand it, and such lack of knowledge, of foresight into the situation, left him bereft of his usual composure to handle the situations. And without that discipline, he worried what he could do.
Xingchen trusted him, but even if the darkness within lay quiet, Runyu would not extend that same faith to himself.
He’d proven himself to be lacking in that area of genteel behavior.
However, even if he kept his distance, as the Heavenly Emperor and the Night Immortal, Runyu kept the presence of Xingchen in mind, learning his routine and smiling, albeit briefly, when the man seemed to be content in his little garden and house. Even when Kaunglu and himself had extended him an invitation to explore the heavens as he wished, he didn’t seem to go far beyond the library. Sometimes, he allowed himself to wonder if he were waiting for company for such exploration, but he didn’t dwell on these ideas long. Weighted by the wrongs he had committed and the loss echoing deep in him, too many wishes, too much warmth hurt to contemplate for long. When in forced seclusion again. And when much of his existence was as cold as his torn soul. But Runyu couldn’t ignore his presence, even when at a distance from him.
Not that the flowers allowed him to.
Xingchen’s flowers had continued to fill his corners of the vast realm, filling his garden, Xingchen’s own garden (at his own insistence), and even outside the library. They had yet to reach the throne room, and Runyu was at peace with that absence. Not sure he could accept such color in that arena of pain and deceit.
He was still at a loss on how he could ever attempt to repay his new companion for his generosity. Stubbornness aside, the scope of his gifts were too much to equal with any simple thing.
Perhaps that’s why when his friend did not leave his room on time Runyu found himself deviating from his original path, turning away from his walk of sins and returning towards the guest houses on the other side of the other side of the royal palaces. His pace may had been quicker than his usual stride, too, but he did not allow himself to consider that meaning. This was necessary.
Foolish, too, if nothing were amiss.
He halted at the steps to his friend’s new abode, breathing in. Hesitating. Before going farther. Before showing such a sign of regard. ]
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A week or two later - when the flow is disturbed
Xingchen’s earnest gestures were too auspicious to accept in his condition for long, not as someone who had grown used to the hollow regrets that weighed him down in each exchange between Xufeng and himself. His brother had cut the chains of despair from him, but in that same moment, he had set forth the sentencing of his atonement. And in the present state, his generous eyes neither condemned or judged him when he visited, and yet that compromise seemed all the more distancing for Runyu. When still, his brother was better than he at the conclusion of their war.
Xufeng had grown out of his suffering — to put it in painful terms of poetry, he’d found his eternal spring with his flower.
A spring in which Runyu would never belong, even if that spring would offer her forgiveness.
His own hands had destroyed enough there.
And yet the gentle gaze of Xingchen, someone he’d left far behind, in another war nonetheless, did not cause such pains for the Night Immortal. His smile did not expose another hole in his psyche, a loss that Runyu would carefully cover in another period of solitude and work. No whispers of deceit or graceful lies rose to his mind to darken the confessions gifted him because even the filthy corruption within him remained dormant. He didn’t understand it, and such lack of knowledge, of foresight into the situation, left him bereft of his usual composure to handle the situations. And without that discipline, he worried what he could do.
Xingchen trusted him, but even if the darkness within lay quiet, Runyu would not extend that same faith to himself.
He’d proven himself to be lacking in that area of genteel behavior.
However, even if he kept his distance, as the Heavenly Emperor and the Night Immortal, Runyu kept the presence of Xingchen in mind, learning his routine and smiling, albeit briefly, when the man seemed to be content in his little garden and house. Even when Kaunglu and himself had extended him an invitation to explore the heavens as he wished, he didn’t seem to go far beyond the library. Sometimes, he allowed himself to wonder if he were waiting for company for such exploration, but he didn’t dwell on these ideas long. Weighted by the wrongs he had committed and the loss echoing deep in him, too many wishes, too much warmth hurt to contemplate for long. When in forced seclusion again. And when much of his existence was as cold as his torn soul. But Runyu couldn’t ignore his presence, even when at a distance from him.
Not that the flowers allowed him to.
Xingchen’s flowers had continued to fill his corners of the vast realm, filling his garden, Xingchen’s own garden (at his own insistence), and even outside the library. They had yet to reach the throne room, and Runyu was at peace with that absence. Not sure he could accept such color in that arena of pain and deceit.
He was still at a loss on how he could ever attempt to repay his new companion for his generosity. Stubbornness aside, the scope of his gifts were too much to equal with any simple thing.
Perhaps that’s why when his friend did not leave his room on time Runyu found himself deviating from his original path, turning away from his walk of sins and returning towards the guest houses on the other side of the other side of the royal palaces. His pace may had been quicker than his usual stride, too, but he did not allow himself to consider that meaning. This was necessary.
Foolish, too, if nothing were amiss.
He halted at the steps to his friend’s new abode, breathing in. Hesitating. Before going farther. Before showing such a sign of regard. ]