CHAPTER 48: OUR MIDDLE GROUND?

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     The next morning was much slower than the others mainly due to the previous night's happenings. Wuxian was last to wake, his body gently and well situated in Lan Zhan's bed. Lan Zhan must've moved him sometime during the night as he didn't recall getting into his bed at all. He got up, taking the time to stretch then headed off in search of his partner. He strongly doubted that Lan Zhan would clock in for work but he didn't push it passed him. If anything, that man was a workaholic at best.

        The serene sound of utensils moving against each other welcomed him as he stepped into the kitchen. He watched as Lan Zhan moved graciously even in a hangovered state as he prepared breakfast. He still didn't look all that fresh but considering that he was already up on his feet, Wuxian could relax a bit.

    "Lan Zhan," he called out softly. He didn't want to disturb the peace that surrounded them in that morning. He took a seat at the kitchen barcounter as Lan Zhan immediately served him up. Today's meal consisted of wheat porridge, some boiled sweet potatoes and honey water. Lan Zhan had an added peira soup bowl, a natural detoxifying and healing drink that would help him recover. Something he definitely needed at the time.

   "How are you feeling? I was a bit surprised about yesterday but you don't seem too bad now. I tried to help as much as possible." Wuxian stated as he stirred his porridge. It was piping hot and he added pieces of sweet potato in it for extra flavour.

" I am fine, thank you for asking. I also - want to apologise for showing up like that. It was wrong of me and I hope I didn't do anything to make you feel uncomfortable or that I stepped out of line." Lan Zhan offered, feeling ashamed at his behaviour. He had acted inappropriately and it was dishonouring.

     Wuxian dropped his spoon, looking up at him. Don't..... Don't tell me that.....

      " You - you don't remember?! "  Wuxian asked, a mix of slight confusion, disappointment and irritation. It couldn't be. Come on! Not twice in a row! He was about to bombard Lan Zhan with questions as the feeling of deja vu hit. He got to be kidding him! There was no way he could do this! Hell to the no! He thought to himself before the mood plunged drastically as the porridge bowl slipped and the contents poured onto his exposed arm. The quiet morning suddenly switched up as Wuxian began to holler and cry in pain.

    "WEI YING!" Lan Zhan called out, jumping into action. It was now a morning show with Wuxian jumping up and down and Lan Zhan trying to perform first aid. It couldn't get any worse than this!


   "How did the bowl even fall? What were you doing Wei Ying!?" Lan Zhan asked like a parent as he applied the burn ointment. His skin had been burnt but not totally through though it had a big, welching, red mark on.

   "Lan Zhaaan! Can you stop lecturing me? Can't you see I'm hurt!!!? Ahh, ahh! It burns!!! Lan Zhan, be gentle!!!"  Wuxian whined like the child he was despite his 33 years of age. Lan Zhan rolled his eyes as he attempted to be careful. It wasn't easy with Wuxian who constantly shifted and moved around with each touch. He truly just had a child in the house.

  " Ahhh, ouch!! Lan Zhaaan!!!! Enough, enough! I'll do the rest myself." Wuxian finally stated withdrawing his arm. It was all Lan Zhan's fault anyway..... How could he forget about last night?! Tch! Humph!! Just the same as before! Bastard.

Lan Zhan let him be as he went to clean up the mess. In truth he recalled every little bit of last night but he just didn't want to go into it yet given their current relationship. There was still much more they needed to cover before getting back into that. That's why he apologised because he didn't want Wuxian to feel obligated or blamed. They both needed time. Eventually, the whole fiasco was over and normalcy returned. Lan Zhan fixed another bowl for Wuxian; one that was much more cooler and went as far as feeding him. By then Wuxian was over the whole deal but felt as though Lan Zhan had something to say.

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