Chimera; Reality

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n. i just wanna say... i am drained. i am dead to the fucking pot drained idk what that meant, i just hope it makes sense because i am drained. i am dead. i am but a restless soul trying to write more of fengqing bc of some odd goal i assigned myself almost a year ago.

now that we got that out of the way, hello! IM BAAAACCCKK FOR ANOTHER FIIICCCC.

not much romance here, apologies. a lot of pining tho so... compensation? hehe, not sure. anw, enjoy! and also, this is a bit short... at least for me.

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Chimera; a thing that is wished or hoped for but is in fact illusory and or impossible to achieve.

"There is tea brewing in your palace."

Feng Xin doesn't lower down his gaze from where it's stuck staring at the stars. A beautiful constellation of burning chaos scattered around the inky darkness surrounding them. He hums in acknowledgement, though, to avoid ruining the rare serenity blooming inside him and the peace in the air. He accepts the new presence beside him, familiar and embarrassingly someone he holds dear in his irrelevant heart.

Where it be anyone else, he had barked at them to leave the instant they stepped five meters near him.

But it was not just anyone else. It was someone. Someone he does not mind despite said someone also driving him to the nearest wall every time – most of the time, at least – just because, and he lets it happen and even indulges in it willingly so.

"And you left it there. The water evaporated." He hums again, this time, following a something that mortals now call as a shooting star. It travels faster than thrown daggers toward him, he muses. He blinks and the shooting star was gone. He closes his eyes instead. Content and satisfied with just being here, unalarmed and calm in spite of his very being vibrating with the hundreds of years of war. A devastating counterpart of being a god. A god of war.

"The stars are beautiful." He says, for the first time since the other arrived. He feels before he hears. Feels the grass beneath his body move with the sudden movements of boots pushing pass through it and hears said boots hitting the ground with his godly hearing. It stops right beside his hand where he had spread his arms wide and carefree earlier upon plopping down on the ground just to stare at the dark, sparkling sky.

He opens his eyes again and no longer sees the stars of before. He sees only black. Sharp and piercing onyx that might as well be a silent dagger that could stab at his heart repeatedly and he would let it. Let it happen for a whole hour, let it happen for a whole straight year.

Mu Qing has his arms folded as he gazed down upon him. As if he was nothing but just another minor god. An inconvenience. Something that's blocking him from achieving whatever goal he has now even as a god himself. Feng Xin usually feels irked by this. Challenged and angered for who dares to gaze at him as if he is beneath?

But he lets this one be.

Mu Qing might just step on him and he'd say a word of gratitude instead of drawing out his bow in rage.

You're beautiful, he wants to say. You're even more beautiful than the stars, he wants to murmur in the silence just to fill it.

What have I done to breathe the same air as you?

He deems himself lucky. To be this close. To be this near to experience first hand how much Mu Qing had done to bring himself forth and ascend as a god. A deserving god. If Feng Xin had not been too greedy and selfish to have this such important spot near the silverette, he wouldn't have had ascended to claim the southeast because Mu Qing should have.

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