Wei Wuxian loved sunsets. There was something magical about the way the sky transformed—colors bleeding into one another, like ink on paper. He often found himself perched on the edge of the Cloud Recesses, watching the sun dip below the distant mountains.
Lan Wangji joined him one evening. His robes billowed in the breeze, and his expression was serene. "Wei Ying," he said softly, "why do you love sunsets?"
Wei Wuxian grinned. "Because they're like secrets whispered by the heavens. Each one holds a story."
Lan Wangji tilted his head. "What story does this sunset tell?"
Wei Wuxian pointed to the horizon, where the sun painted the sky in hues of orange and pink. "This one," he said, "is about love."
Lan Wangji raised an eyebrow. "Love?"
"Yes." Wei Wuxian leaned closer, their shoulders touching. "See how the sun kisses the earth before it disappears? It's like a promise—a reminder that even in darkness, there's warmth."
Lan Wangji's gaze softened. "And what does it promise?"
Wei Wuxian's heart fluttered. "That no matter how far apart we are, our love will endure. Like the sun, it'll rise again."
Lan Wangji's hand found Wei Wuxian's. "Wei Ying," he murmured, "you're my sunrise."
Wei Wuxian blushed. "And you're my sunset, Lan Zhan."
They sat there, fingers entwined, watching the sky change. The sun sank lower, casting long shadows. Wei Wuxian rested his head on Lan Wangji's shoulder.
"Promise me," Wei Wuxian whispered, "that we'll watch every sunset together."
Lan Wangji pressed a kiss to his temple. "Forever," he vowed.
And as the sun dipped below the mountains, painting the world in gold, Wei Wuxian knew that love was more than a whispered secret—it was a promise etched in the sky.
