Curse Or Cure?

A Little Piece of Heaven

Wen Kexing had spent his whole life in a world of fear. Fear of what he was. What he could do. What he could become. What others would do if word ever got out about him.

Wen Kexing feared the very existence he was.

Never before had he witnessed anyone do what he could. A glance up at the head of a person, Wen Kexing could know their identity with no problem at all. Names and numbers, written in red, told Wen Kexing all he needed to know. With the wisps of crimson smoke in his hands, he could take an object and control its path. Could take a person and move their very being. A flick of his wrist had his thrown fan retreating back to him, his aim perfect with every swing of it. Had once ripped open the skin of a person's throat by Wen Kexing's angered stare alone.

Most days, Wen Kexing was scared of himself.

"Don't ever let them know, A' Xing, people fear what they can't understand."

Wen Kexing wished his parents were still alive to comfort his fears.

Relaxing at a brothel will just have to do.

For now.

Wen Kexing sighed, leaning his head on the palm of his head, taking in the room. Bright colors of red and gold decorated the area, women in said red clothing entertained the men of clearly high status. What babbling fools they are, the men practically fell over in their seats, drunk out of their minds, lusting over the fairly pretty women. 

A flash of metallic blue in a sea of crimson caught the corner of his eye.

The man was breathtaking, Wen Kexing noted, in awe at the sight of him. He wore complex-looking robes, almost like a uniform feudal officials wore, his hair tied up in a topknot by a leather cuff and a dangling blue accessory attached. He had an elegant slope of a nose, a delicate cupid's bow with light pink dusting those soft-looking lips, arched eyebrows that gave the appearance of unimpressed boredom at the other man that stood before him, his eyes like the peach blossoms Wen Kexing had adored to stare at when he was a child, a cute mole under one of the eyes, set upon a high cheekbone, and a defined jaw. 

Wen Kexing's eyes widened when the beautiful man turned his stare from the unattractive man in front of him, talking but seemingly being unheard, to catch Wen Kexing's own. Embarrassed at being caught, Wen Kexing turned his eyes away, looking down. Wen Kexing was used to being unseen, many tend to ignore him, seeing his white hair as a sign of a bad omen. Cursed, he had been called once, the civilian hadn't even known he had heard.

With a sigh, Wen Kexing stood up, bored of this scene already. 

And then promptly tripped.

Because of course, his stupid self would.

Strong arms caught him by his waist, the scent of rainwater and sandalwood filled his senses as his face collided with a built chest. 

The sound of the lively brothel came to a halt.

Hesitantly, Wen Kexing looked up, catching the eyes of the same man from before, a beauty unmatched.

"Are you okay?" The man asked, voice a whisper in the wind.

"Yes," Wen Kexing managed out, surprised that the man was still touching him, willingly so too. How long has it been since someone has deemed him worth their time? To look upon him with eyes that saw him? "I'm okay."