iii. COSMIC BALLET ( jing yuan ).

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i

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i. SYNOPSIS : sometimes you wonder if your spark could outshine his centuries old light. ( jing yuan x reader )

ii. WARNING(S) : mentions of mortality, comfort, Jing Yuan needs a hug, we all do, really. This is all very rough and unrefined I wrote this on my phone hdhdhdhd.

 This is all very rough and unrefined I wrote this on my phone hdhdhdhd

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JING YUAN SHINES WITH A LIGHT too bright for a human. It's the sun embodied, carved onto muscle and skin like fire on flesh, and the art of kintsugi itself, and the people would look upon him and walk their orbits and live their lives.

He'll pour his wine out and rearrange his xianqi pieces and watch the years on the Luofu tick by with war, then peace, then war, then peace again. He'll change strategies. He'll land his checkmates. He'll count every victory and loss. Then he'll shut his eyes and dream of a world where he was a distant speck, anything but a burning star.

And still, he shines

( Bright, bright, brighter and you fear the hearth shall soon give out. )

— And still the people look to him. For the planets center their suns, the asteroids chart their course, the universe exists in itself, a state of orderly chaos. Jing Yuan was the Luofu's heart, the people's heart and that great light was a terrible thing that could never be diffused ( only burn out as time wears upon it ).

You wonder where he gathers his strength, if he could keep dancing this cosmic ballet. Jing Yuan was still Jing Yuan, a human with his soft insides and his fragile soul. And he holds that sun in him. He holds the face of The Hunt. He holds onto Lan's will. He falters. You watch him stagger at times. You see his weariness and something, something in you cries.

You wonder if you could do such a thing too ( you cannot, for your life was a limited, fleeting thing and the daunting weight of immortality scares you too much, like the cold metal of a vice ). You wonder if your comfort would show any effect.

"If you are the sun..." You ask him one day, when the world was quiet and you slip deeper into the warmth of your sheets. "Then what am I?"

You feel his weight shift behind you, his warmth press against your back and his breath against your skin. They were the subtle hints of proof, of his life, of the humanity that stirs in him. You inch closer. "That's a strange question to ask in the middle of the night."

"I know it is. But I'm curious. And I can't sleep when I'm curious."

He laughs that deep, rich laugh. You feel something, it's a wild sort of adoration, a strong urge to kiss him and kiss him and kiss him. It hurts. You push it away.

"A spark," he decides after a moment's silence, like the word is a funny joke you don't quite understand. "Sparks hold potential. Sparks can burn brighter."

"Not as bright as you."

"Of course you can." He replies. He seems sure of himself. He kisses your lips, your neck. He looks at you with a reverance, with worship on his fingertips, with a wistful, desperate longing. "They may not see it, but I do. I will."

You want to laugh. He sounds silly, foolish, and it was a strange way to describe someone as meticulous as him. You only hold a few decades of life left. You hardly believe you could come to be something so profound. "Why?" You ask him.

He gives pause. There is a sacred thing nestled in your question, something that should be handled delicately.

"Because..." He carefully picks his words. You feel his fingers curl in with yours. "You're mortal." Your lips part. He keeps speaking. "And when you love me, when you live and feel as you do — in my gaze, dear heart, you far eclipse this old worn soul of mine."

Ah. You blink. Ah, he was being sincere.

"Do I?"

You sound small. Jing Yuan smiles. He leans into you, nose grazing against yours. The gold in his eyes have dimmed to a mellow affection.

"You do." He nods. "And I am honored, so honored to be loved by you." He kisses your knuckles.

You do not speak. But you hug him, hold him as close as humanly possible. Jing Yuan shuts his eyes. He lets his light dim in your presence. You let yourself eclipse him, as he says you do.

You let him rest.

❪⠀🎬⠀❫ AINE SPEAKS ;;

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❪⠀🎬⠀❫ AINE SPEAKS ;;

BAHAHAHAHA I wrote this whole thing in college on my phone help dhdbdjd. But hey, something short, a bit of a buffer so hehehe.

 But hey, something short, a bit of a buffer so hehehe

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