Work Text:
"Lan Zhaannn!" A voice calls out. Loud, too loud to belong in the Jingshi, yet it made a home in the walls. The loud made home in the quiet. Pausing his writing, Lan Wangji looks up at the sound. The sound of his home. His husband was grinning from ear to ear as he sat on the edge of the big circle window in their residence. "Will you come with me for a little bit?" Wei Ying says innocently. Lan Wangji simply raises an eyebrow. His husband was anything but innocent.
None the less, because he could never deny his Wei Ying of anything, he stands, setting his writing utensil down to dry, and makes his way over to his husband. As he gets closer, Wei Ying's expression brightens, as his smile grows. Arms out as he straightens up in a notion to be carried. Lan Wangji smiles as he walks towards his beloved, just a tiny one, but one that is only shown to the person in front of him. One that causes the other to soften, eyes still bright, but smile more soft, more quiet and more secretive. The one he only shows to those he loves deeply and thoroughly. The one he gives to Lan Wangji in the deepest of nights, or when he makes his favorite soup, or when he's looking at Lan Sizhui and thinks no one is looking at him.
But Lan Wangji is always watching him.
Just as he goes to grab Wei Ying, another voice calls out, causing him to look towards the doorway. "Wangji?" His brother asks, eyes knowing, as they always seem to. Was always able to read Lan Wangji, even when he did not seem to know how he felt.
Lan Wangji goes to look back at Wei Ying, only to see an empty window. A feeling of hot, boiling panic rises in him as he quickly searches around, before running to the window, looking out and on the ground, for any sign of anything. Searching madly- desperate to see a glimpse of his beloved, a glimpse of black or red- anything at all.
It's then, that he remembers. Leaning against the window as he feels his knees go weak, his eyesight blur, his senses go. It's that moment when everything crashes down on him full force like a tidal wave.
No. No- not again, please no.
"Wangji." He brother whispers, his hand coming to his shoulder, squeezing. He brings his younger brother to his bed, in which Lan Wangji sits on the floor promptly, not being able to bring himself to sit on the bed. The bed where the other side is unused and cold. His brother sits next to him, pulling him into his arms, attempting to squeeze out all the heartbreak out of him, all the madness, the anger, the feelings.
He looks towards the window, feeling the tears fall as his eyes play ticks on him as he sees a boy that is no longer there. Hasn't been there in a while. A ghost.
Wei Ying was not there. And he never would be. Not again.
No reincarnation, no being summoned.
No small touches, or whispered words, no smiles, no soft kisses that felt as though butterflies graced his skin.
Absolutely nothing.