Work Text:
I wish you went behind my back
And told me lies and stuff like that
I wish you kissed someone I know
And did the unforgivable
Maybe hatin' you's the only way it doesn't hurt
Mu Qing sat with his back pressed against the headboard, staring straight ahead at nothing. His eyes were half-lidded and his breathing was even. If Feng Xin hadn’t grown so attuned to everything about him, he might have mistaken this for him almost being sleepy. But he wasn’t so naive, not anymore. He reached out for Mu Qing’s hand gently, fingers closing around the tips of his. He whispered, “Something on your mind?”
Silence met him.
Perhaps Feng Xin should have known then, what was about to happen. Mu Qing didn’t turn his hand around the way that he normally did, so that their palms touched and their fingers could fall between each other comfortably. He didn’t sigh and roll his eyes the way that he would when he thought Feng Xin was worrying over nothing. Today had been an unusually good day, they had only argued a little bit, and so Feng Xin had thought that everything was okay.
It wasn’t.
“This isn’t working.”Mu Qing’s voice wasn’t cold, it wasn’t condescending. It wasn’t the voice he used when he wanted to get a rise out of Feng Xin. No, this voice was something else. This was the voice that he used when he was making an observation. As if he were commenting on the weather; it’s cloudy, the sun is out, this isn’t working.
“What?”
There, a sigh. Something closer to normal for them, “I said—”
“I know what you said.”
“Then why did you say ‘what’?” They both knew why he’d said what. It wasn’t so much the word that he’d meant as it was the feelings he’d wanted to convey. ‘What’ stood in for the dozens of other words he couldn’t say, didn’t know how to say. Mu Qing pulled his hand away and turned his head to look at Feng Xin expectantly.
Slowly, Feng Xin pushed himself up to a sitting position, he took a breath in, opening his mouth to speak, and then let it out without saying anything. He stared at Mu Qing, at the mole on his cheek by his eye, waiting for the words to come to him, the ones that would make Mu Qing realize this was a mistake. They never came.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Mu Qing eventually said, looking away guiltily. Good, Feng Xin thought a little bit bitterly, let him feel bad right now. He immediately wanted to take the thought back when he saw the hurt finally showing on Mu Qing’s face.
“Like what?”
“Like I just told you that the world is ending.”
“Maybe it is.”
Mu Qing sighed again, closing his eyes fully, “It’s not.” Feng Xin glared at him then, brows furrowing and lips turning down into a deep frown. His chest felt like it was being carved out with every word he said.
“This is what you want, then?” He asked, his voice rough and sharp around the edges. He could feel himself getting agitated, could tell that they were seconds from exploding into another fight. Maybe things would have been easier if they had.
Mu Qing nodded, not opening his eyes, “It is. I’m sick of fighting with you every day.” Feng Xin knew that what he actually meant was hidden somewhere in those words, but he didn’t know how to find them. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he turned his head to stare at the wall in front of Mu Qing’s bed.
“Alright,” He said, because what else could he say. He would never force Mu Qing to stay in a relationship with him. This wasn’t even an actual relationship. This was… Feng Xin didn’t know. It had started as a secret, a meeting of teeth and lips and hands, and then it had evolved into something else. It was still a secret shared between them, he mused, standing up from the bed, so it isn’t like it should hurt.
But it did.
He found his clothes on the floor from where they’d discarded them earlier. A mean and hateful question about that having been a goodbye fuck was on the tip of his tongue. But when he turned his head to look at Mu Qing to say it, the words died on his tongue. Mu Qing was looking at him with a strange expression. His mouth was pulled into a tight, thin line, his thin brows furrowed.
Feng Xin looked away quickly, pulling his pants on and then grabbing his shirt before walking towards the door of the bedroom. He didn’t stop to say goodbye, or anything else. He just left.
So I'm gonna hate you
I'm gonna hate you
Paint you like the villain that you never were
I'm gonna blame you
For things that you don't do
Hating you's the only way it doesn't hurt
It had been two weeks.
Feng Xin was sitting in a booth, sipping the shitty margarita in the glass between his hands. The chips and dip lay forgotten on the table in front of him as Xie Lian chatters to Hua Cheng in the booth opposite. Feng Xin’s eyes were staring at nothing, his ears only picking up bits and pieces of what his friend and his boyfriend were talking about. Normally that wasn’t a problem, normally there would be a fourth person at the table that Feng Xin could make jokes with so he didn’t feel so alone.
“-said he wasn’t feeling well, do you know what’s wrong?” Xie Lian was saying.
Feng Xin took another sip from his glass.
“I don’t think he’s listening, gege.” Hua Cheng said soothingly, and then, “Quick, let’s leave before he realizes—”
“San Lang,” Xie Lian chides, smiling despite himself. He leans forward a bit, and Feng Xin blinks at him, slowly realizing that he was being spoken to. He takes another sip of his drink and raises a brow, waiting for Xie Lian to repeat himself.
“I was just talking about Mu Qing,” Xie Lian said, patiently, “He said he wasn’t feeling well. I was wondering if you knew what was wrong?”
Feng Xin’s nose wrinkled, and he flinched backwards, as if away from the question. He said, “The fuck should I know?”
Xie Lian looked at him curiously, “I thought you two were friends again, did something happen?”
Sourly, Feng Xin ignored his straw and tipped the glass back to swig the last part of his margarita. He wiped the liquid away from his face with the back of his hand and said, “Who would want to be friends with that asshole?”
This seemed to puzzle Xie Lian more than anything he’d said thus far. His brows came together, and he got a little frown on his face, “So something did happen? I really thought you guys had gotten past the fighting… You seemed to be getting along so well lately.”
“The only thing that guy is good at is picking a fight,” Feng Xin said, reaching out for Xie Lian’s untouched margarita. He took a sip from it. “He’d just be a buzzkill if he was here. Let’s just be happy none of us have to see him, yeah?”
Xie Lian glanced at Hua Cheng, who was already looking at him. Unspoken words seemed to pass between them, it made Feng Xin frown, but he said nothing. Instead, he took another sip. He didn’t drink often, so he was grateful when he started feeling something other than anger in his head.
“Feng Xin,” Xie Lian said, softer than he had any right to sound in such a loud restaurant, and he reached out one of his hands to cover Feng Xin’s as he reached for a chip to dip into his salsa cup, “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine?” He said, confused about the question, “Are you okay?”
Xie Lian’s expression went softer, and he sighed out before pulling his hand back to his lap. “I’m fine…” He said. Feng Xin, who was not good at reading anyone besides the idiot who was missing from the table, proceeded to grab a chip and dunked it into his salsa He scooped, just because he knew that Mu Qing hated when people scooped, before bringing the loaded chip to his mouth and chewing on it.
The rest of dinner and drinks passed by without Xie Lian asking any more questions.
We weren't perfect, but we came close
Until I put all of our pain under the microscope
And I still can't face it
I'm still in love, for what it's worth
Maybe hatin' you's the only way it doesn't hurt
“You snore like an old dog,” Mu Qing said distastefully after their first full night together, when Feng Xin had woken up with Mu Qing in his arms. It was truly a momentous occasion. Normally when they were done having sex, Mu Qing or Feng Xin would clean up and rush out of the other’s apartment. It was like an unspoken rule, but this time, they’d made an exception.
Feng Xin had laughed hard at that, a full bellied laugh. Mu Qing looked at him like he was appalled by the sound, but his cheeks were flushed pink, and Feng Xin knew without having to be told that he was actually appalled by himself for being charmed by it.
Mu Qing reached out to shove at his shoulder, but Feng Xin caught his hand and brought his knuckles up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the skin there. Mu Qing gazed at him then, expression softening just slightly. He whispered, “My, my, you’re rather bold in the morning, aren’t you?”
“Shouldn’t I be?” Feng Xin asked back, teasing. He pushed forward so that Mu Qing was pinned beneath him, bringing their hands above Mu Qing’s head, and leaned in to press another kiss to his lips this time. Mu Qing let out a soft sound that Feng Xin swallowed down, parting his lips and asking for entrance into his mouth. It was a delicate thing, whatever was between them, but right now it was sweeter than it ever had been. Mu Qing parted his lips against Feng Xin’s, letting his tongue in to explore.
They stayed like that for awhile, kissing until Mu Qing was breathless and pushed Feng Xin’s face away. Feng Xin had grinned like an idiot. He murmured, “You’re not supposed to hold your breath, you know?”
Mu Qing pushed at him again, a little rougher this time. He was scowling now, the sweet softness gone as he tried to shove Feng Xin off of him. He said, “Shut the hell up, who asked you?”
Feng Xin laughed again, catching his hands easily and leaning in to kiss him again, though his lips trailed down from his lips to his jaw and then his neck slowly. Against his skin, he murmured, “You’re cute.”
“You’re not.” Mu Qing said sullenly, which only made Feng Xin’s smile grow. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
“I’ve just never seen you so open before. It’s not like we’ve never kissed.”
“We haven’t kissed like that.”
“Like what? Like I meant it?”
Mu Qing didn’t say anything to that, which made Feng Xin pull away from his neck, smiling down at him. Utterly charmed by the man beneath him. They were both in their underwear; a rule that Mu Qing had made in order to let Feng Xin sleep in his bed with him. Like this, Feng Xin could see the way that Mu Qing’s blush stretched down to his chest. Leaning in, Feng Xin pressed another little kiss to his pulse point.
“Want me to stop?” He asked softly, lips brushing against his skin.
Nothing.
Feng Xin pulled away again, looking up at Mu Qing’s face. He was chewing on his lower lip. Reaching out with his hand, Feng Xin pried the lip from between his teeth. He said, “Hey, I won’t do anything unless—”
“Don’t stop.” Mu Qing said then, pushing himself up to his elbows.
That was all Feng Xin had wanted, all he’d needed. Just something to show that Mu Qing was still interested, still wanted it. He said, “Okay,” softly, and then pressed up to kiss his lips again. Mu Qing kissed him back, though his kisses became more insistent the more comfortable he got. He kissed with a purpose, and Feng Xin couldn’t help but let him, amused and aroused all at the same time.
“Feng Xin?!” Shi Qingxuan shrieked. Feng Xin blinked the memory away from his mind. He focused on Shi Qingxuan, who was standing in front of him with a hand on his shoulder to stop him from walking into traffic. He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck.
“Sorry, sorry, I’m alright. My bad,” He waved at the car +that had started wailing on its horn at him in apology, his face flushed with embarrassment and nervousness. He couldn’t believe himself. Not only was he thinking of Mu Qing again, but now he’d almost walked into traffic. Un-fucking-believable.
Shi Qingxuan narrowed her eyes at him, frowning, “Are you feeling alright?”
“I’m fine,” He said again, for what felt like the fiftieth time this week. He was fine, truly. He was just distracted. He couldn’t help it. It was like no matter what he did or where he went he was reminded of Mu Qing in some way. His friends asking about him, or passing by the cafe that they’d gotten coffee at together so many times or the class that they shared.
“Well, I don’t believe you,” She said, crossing her arms over her chest. As if that meant anything to Feng Xin. She didn’t have to believe him, they were only friends by association, really. She was more Xie Lian’s friend than his. “I’m going to walk you home.” She went on, wrapping her arms around Feng Xin’s left arm.
Easily, he slipped his arm away, ignoring the twinge of discomfort at that show of attention from her, “There’s no need. I’m like a block away.”
“Feng Xin.” She said stubbornly. And Feng Xin didn’t have the energy to fight her, so he sighed and shrugged, gesturing her forward. They waited together for the light to turn, and then took to the street together. She chattered about mindless things, so many that Feng Xin couldn’t keep up with her train of thought. It wasn’t until he heard Mu Qing’s name that he tuned back in.
“—has been acting weird too. Everyone says you guys got into another fight, but this doesn’t feel like one of your fights,” She was saying matter of factly, and Feng Xin’s face twitched. She noticed, and stopped talking, waiting for him respond.
“I’m not acting weird,” He said, voice gruff and sounding more defensive than he wanted it to. Shi Qingxuan sighs, as if she’s extremely tired of the conversation already. He went on, “No, really. I don’t know what his problem is, but I’m fine.”
She opened her mouth, probably to say something clever like I can tell, but Feng Xin pressed on. He kept walking as he spoke, thankful for the physical activity. Being active had always helped him sort through difficult things. Not that this was difficult. He really was just distracted, that was all.
“We always fight, by the way. It’s not like that’s anything new. He’s probably just staying away because…” He trails off, frowning as he looks forward. He could’ve sworn he’d just seen Mu Qing, standing against the tall brick of his apartment building waiting for him. He blinked, and the image faded, revealing a stranger who was just scrolling on his phone, leaning against the building.
“Because?” Shi Qingxuan pressed, all of her chattering having stopped as soon as she’d caught onto a piece of information that she was decidedly too curious about.
“Because he’s a little bitch.” Feng Xin finished, pursing his lips. He wouldn’t feed into the fodder. It wasn’t just because he knew that Mu Qing cared about everyone’s perception of him. It was also because Feng Xin hated gossip. He stopped once he was outside of his building, looking at Shi Qingxuan expectantly, waiting for her to leave.
She was looking at him curiously though.
“There’s something you’re not saying,” She decided, nodding to herself.
Feng Xin scowled, unable to hide anything from anyone but making sure to make it clear that he was not interested in talking about it. He said, “We fought. What the fuck else is there to talk about?”
“Nothing,” She sighs, seemingly realizing that she was not going to get anything from him when he was in this mood. She smiled at him then, and held up a hand to wave, “Bye A-Xin, thanks for letting me walk you home!” And then she turned and started walking back the way that they’d come from, leaving him to watch her from the doorway of his apartment building. The man who’d been leaning against it had pushed himself up at their approach and walked away as well, so Feng Xin was left all alone.
So I'm gonna hate you
I'm gonna hate you
Paint you like the villain that you never were
I'm gonna blame you
For things that you don't do
Hatin' you's the only way it doesn't hurt
Feng Xin spent most of his time either at school or at the gym. He didn’t want to be left alone with his memories in his apartment. Eventually he’d have to talk to Mu Qing again, to be the one to break the silence between them so that they could exchange the things they’d left at each other’s apartments. He knew Mu Qing wouldn’t—he’d sooner write off anything that he left as lost forever.
Not that he cared, of course. It wasn’t his business if Mu Qing never got his mother’s hand-knitted blanket back. But Feng Xin wanted his things at least, and if that meant Mu Qing got his as well then so be it. Whatever, he wasn’t going out of his way for him.
He was on his way home from the gym when he ran into Jian Lan. His body was still damp from the shower that he’d taken, his clothes sticking to him in weird ways. Jian Lan was walking out of a restaurant as he passed by the front of it, bringing a cigarette up to her lips and lighting it. As she saw him, her expression brightened and she waved him over.
It had been around half a decade since they’d dated, way back in high school, and to this day she was one of the only women that Feng Xin felt comfortable around. Sort of. Well, mostly it depended on the day and how magnanimous she was feeling, but overall she was a good friend of his and she only sometimes tortured him with teasing. He wasn’t really in the mood for her antics, but he wasn’t about to just ignore her either. With a sigh, he stepped towards her.
“Where the hell have you been?” She asked, smiling with the cigarette between her teeth. Feng Xin looked at her, at the cigarette and then at her smile before looking up into her eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words failed him. Her smile melted. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
People walked past them, some coming to the restaurant and some leaving it. Feng Xin looked around them and then back at her. For once, he was grateful that she was able to read him so well. She nodded slowly in understanding, dropping the cigarette and reaching out for his hand. She guided him away from the restaurant then, letting their fingers slide together and their palms touch. The feel of it set him at ease immediately.
“I don’t mean to interrupt you—” He manages to get out, letting her guide them both through the busy sidewalk. She’d only been to his apartment once, so he wasn’t sure where she was taking him. He found he didn’t care or mind. It was easier when he didn’t have to think.
“It’s fine,” She says, “I’ll just send them a text.”
“Them?”
“Just some friends.”
“Ah, okay…” Feng Xin said. His voice was soft, but he knew that she’d heard him. They came to a small door nestled in the alley between two large buildings. She pulled a key out and unlocked the door before slipping inside, pulling Feng Xin in behind her. She locked the door after they were both inside and paused, letting him go so that she could take her shoes off. Carefully, Feng Xin followed suit.
The door led to a small square of space at the base of a steep staircase. There was a little sliver of carpet that Jian Lan put their shoes on once they’d taken them off, and then she started climbing the stairs. Feng Xin watched her for a moment, debating whether he should say something to ask where they were, but decided he trusted Jian Lan enough to know that she wouldn’t put him in any kind of danger or anything like that. He went up behind her without another thought.
She led him to a small room with a couch at the top of the stairs. Connected, though separated by a small island countertop, was a kitchen. He realized then that they were in an apartment, probably her apartment. Relief came easy to him as he let her once again grab his hand and pull him towards the couch. She pushed his shoulder gently to get him to sit, so he did, looking up at her with furrowed brows as she started to step away.
“I’m just grabbing some water for us,” She said over her shoulder, as if able to guess that he was confused about her actions. He watched her go into the kitchen, watched as she pulled out two glasses and then filled them with water from a pitcher in the fridge. As she came back to the living area, she offered him a glass. He accepted it as she sat down on the couch beside him.
“Thanks,” He mumbled, bringing the glass up to his lips. He gulped all of the water down, and then held the cup awkwardly, unsure of what to do with it. She watched him, bemused, but said nothing as she held her own cup in her hands on her lap. There was a long pause then, nothing said between them, though they were looking into each other’s eyes.
“So, what happened?” She said eventually, after the pause had stretched on long enough to be uncomfortable. Feng Xin breathed out then, his hands tightening around his glass.
“Nothing.”
“Liar.”
“I’m fine.”
“You literally almost started crying on the street—you’re not fine. What happened?”
“…” Feng Xin didn’t know how to respond. By being here, by talking about this, he ran the risk of exposing a secret he’d been keeping for the last year. It scared the shit out of him. He said, eventually, “Someone I was seeing broke up with me.” And then, “No. We weren’t really seeing each other. It’s more like…” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair in frustration that he couldn’t find the words. “Fuck. I don’t know. We were just—together. Like, sexually.” His cheeks burned at the admission, and he couldn’t bring his eyes up to meet Jian Lan’s.
She was quiet for a while, and then she said, “Okay, so they broke up with you?”
“Breaking up makes it sound like it was something serious.” Feng Xin says immediately—a way that he’d tried to reason himself out of being upset.
“Feng Xin,” Jian Lan said lightly, reaching out to pat his knee reassuringly. “It’s okay if it felt like it was serious. How long were you screwing her?”
“Him.” He said immediately, and then regretted it immediately at the look of astonishment on her face. Out went the secret. He looked away again and cleared his throat as her eyebrows settled back into their natural position on her face. “I was seeing him for about a year.”
“That’s a long time to be seeing someone.” She said, “Even if it was just sex.”
“Yeah, but I knew that that was all it was.” He said, as if trying to convince himself again that that was the case. He knew it wasn’t. They’d blurred the lines plenty of times, especially once they’d started staying over at each other’s apartments. It had started to feel like something real, at least for him. But that wasn’t the point. It didn’t matter anymore. “He broke it off with me.”
“Why?”
Feng Xin made a face, “The fuck do you mean, why?”
Jian Lan turned her head slightly, narrowing her eyes at him, “Did you not think to ask why? Did you even talk about it?”
His expression turned into a scowl, and he closed his eyes.
“Feng Xin.”
“Who asks why when they’re being broken up with? I’m not going to beg him to change his mind, not when it was clear that he’d already known what he was going to say at the beginning of the night.” The words came rushing out of him like a dam breaking. He hadn’t even known he’d wanted to say them, had been thinking them since it happened. But they were out in the world now, and he couldn’t take them back.
“You asked me why.” She says softly, trying to catch his eyes again.
“You weren’t a constant pain in my ass.” He replies, frowning. It’s a flimsy excuse. Most of his excuses about Mu Qing were. “He said that this wasn’t working.”
Jian Lan made a face at that, chewing on the inside of her cheek.
“We fought a lot.” He went on, swallowing as he prepared to bare his soul to her, “Like a lot. But we hadn’t really fought that day. I’d thought… I thought that things were okay. That we were okay. But he said that like he’d been sitting on it for hours. For days. Instead of talking to me about it, he just decided…” Feng Xin couldn’t keep the pain out of his voice now. He shook his head, rolling his eyes. It was an unfortunate thing to have picked up from Mu Qing.
“And you didn’t ask why.” She reiterated, shaking her head.
“Fuck off with that,” He snapped, glaring at her, “no I didn’t. The fuck was I supposed to do, beg him to reconsider?”
“You loved him,” She said, and he flinched, “So yes.”
“I didn’t—”
“Don’t bullshit me, Feng Xin. I’m not an idiot.” She said. “You were absolutely in love with him. You’re sitting here, getting all starry eyed while talking about him breaking up with you.”
He flushed, “I’m not.”
She raised her brows at him, amused but shaking her head. “You should talk to him.”
“It’s been a few weeks now…”
“For fucks sake, Feng Xin. Call him.”
He swallowed again, breathing in and out. Suddenly, he wished that he had just ignored her, that he’d walked right past her and went home. But he hadn’t, he was stuck here in her apartment talking about something that he didn’t want to be talking about and feeling like shit. He shook his head, but said nothing.
She seemed to sense that he was shutting down, and thankfully eased up on him. For the rest of his visit they talked about anything else, and only when he was leaving did she hug him and whisper into his ear, “Call him,” one last time.
It's not the truth
It's not the cure
But hatin' you's the only way it doesn't hurt
Sitting in his dark apartment alone, Feng Xin stared down at his hands on his lap. The couch beside him was empty, missing something vital. He moved one of his hands to rest on the cushion beside him, the cool leather just another reminder that he was well and truly alone.
Alone.
Alone, like this, he supposed he could let himself feel the truth of the situation. Jian Lan had been right. Feng Xin was in love with Mu Qing. Had probably been for a while. Now, with his absence being amplified in the darkness, he felt it deeply. He missed Mu Qing. Missed him the way that he missed home sometimes, the feeling real and true and undeniable.
He knew that he shouldn’t. Knew how foolish it was to miss someone who felt better off without him. There were a lot of things that Feng Xin knew. That didn’t make it any easier for him to let it all go. To let Mu Qing go. Maybe he should call him. Maybe he should reach out and bridge the gap between them…
There were certain things that he had to face now, before he could make that decision. Things that would make a difficult situation harder:
1) They weren’t even dating. They’d never talked about dating; Feng Xin had always figured that Mu Qing had only wanted him for his body—because surely when they’d started this whole ordeal, that was why Feng Xin had wanted Mu Qing…
Except.
Except now, with the physical and emotional distance between them… it was so glaringly obvious that that was simply not true. It had been more than Mu Qing’s body that had drawn him in. It was his wit, the way that he always had something clever to say in response to Feng Xin. It was his attitude, annoying as it had been. There was something intoxicating about being the center of Mu Qing’s attention, even if it was because he was mad at you.
Feng Xin brought his hands to his head, letting his fingers curl into his hair. Fuck. He didn’t know how this could have happened. Not with Mu Qing of all people. But then again, when he thought about it, it was always bound to happen, wasn’t it?
The memories flashed by in painful clarity—every sigh, every whimper, every blush. Each time Mu Qing ever rolled his eyes or made a snarky comment. It was all tinted now, a shade away from reality. Like this, Feng Xin could almost convince himself it had been mutual.
2) Whatever they were doing, it was over now. Never again would Feng Xin receive a text asking, ‘tonight?’ or ‘come over?’ or ‘your place or mine?’ If he received anything, which he wasn’t convinced he would, it would never be to ask for his time and company again. Something about that thought stung. Because now that he could see it, he couldn’t unsee it.
Fuck.
He’d been all in the moment they’d kissed for the first time. More all in than he’d ever been with Jian Lan. Than he’d been with anyone. Maybe, he thought sadly, it had been even before the kiss. Maybe it had been as far back as their first meeting. There’d always been something magnetic between them. Would it really be so surprising to think that Feng Xin had been interested in him even then?
3) He was drowning in this. The pain of knowing that Mu Qing was over it, had probably been over it for a while. He didn’t even know why he was humoring the thought that he might be able to talk him out of his decision.
Perhaps that was something he needed to face too. His fear over the outcome. What was the worst that could happen? Mu Qing saying that the feelings weren’t mutual, that they’d never been mutual, that he was well and truly done with Feng Xin. The thought alone made his chest ache.
He pulled his phone out and stared down at it.
4) Mu Qing was a bitch.
Even if Feng Xin might have been taken in by his personality, being with someone like that long term wouldn’t be a fun experience. Surely Feng Xin knew that much at least. Most of their fights had started because of him anyways. Because he’d misunderstood the meaning behind why Feng Xin had said this, or had taken that out of context.
It wasn’t like Feng Xin had enjoyed always fighting with him.
5) Feng Xin hated him.
Hated him like he’d never hated anyone before. He poured all of his pain, all of his frustration into the feeling, and he let it sink down deep into him. It filled him like rain pouring from the sky. All of the childish feelings crept out with it. It isn’t fair. I can’t stand him. This asshole just made a decision on his own again. Fine. It was fine. He could accept this. Mu Qing had broken up with him a little over three months ago, and it was fine.
He clutched his phone in his palm, about to shove it back into his pocket, when the screen lit up and it vibrated in his hand. He glanced down at the it, not really in the mood to talk to anyone right now after all. And then…
Mu Qing: We need to talk.