Unclaimed (Xianwang)

Unspoken Emotions (3)

Lan Wangji

Returning to work after my two-day leave felt oddly heavy. It was the fourth day of my cycle, and by tomorrow, it would be over. The worst of the heat had passed. Only the first three days were particularly difficult for omegas to endure, the rest two were easily manageable by suppressants. For alphas, their rut typically lasted just a day or two, intense but brief.

I came in that day with a plan: avoid Wei Wuxian.....why? I don't know...please don't ask me. All I knew was that facing him felt daunting, like an uncharted territory I wasn't ready to traverse. But now I'm irritated, he isn't here. As soon as I arrived and learned he wasn't even in the building, Wuxian had left for a business trip with Xichen and Wen Ning, and no one knew when they'd be back. I didn't understand why but his absence gnawed at me, stirring an unexpected mix of angry and sadness....more like I was disappointed that he wasn't here. It's not like I care so much.

I know I should be worried-Zhao Ming had shown up looking for me, and that should have been my main concern. Instead, all I could think about was Wuxian and the empty space his absence left behind. What is going on with me?

At home, Meng Yao was a shadow of his usual self. He reminded me of characters in those movies who, after heartbreak, bury themselves in relentless activity to numb the pain..... exactly what he was doing. He would not only go for his usual early morning jogs, but also went to the academy an hour early to work out in the gym, and stayed back after his classes to do the same. Even after dinner, he'd go for long walks around the neighborhood, and sleep early, barely leaving any time for conversation.

I had my doubts on what might have happened.... but Meng Yao, no way. He'd come home that day wearing a shirt that dwarfed his slender frame, the scent distinctly different from his own. It carried an unmistakable trace of Xichen, now that I think of it.... I knew it was a familiar smell, I always got a lighter version of the scent when Xichen was near but it was strong on Meng Yao mingled with the lingering sweetness of his own pheromones when he walked in. The shirt.... it might not be what I doubt, something might have happened to his shirt that Xichen lend his, but what about the other details I couldn't ignore: his swollen lips, the faint red marks trailing from his jawline to his ear and down his neck. He'd been concealing them beneath high collars and long sleeves-uncharacteristic for him. Each time I tried to talk to him, he was distant, as if the connection we once shared was slipping away. The realization sat like a stone in my chest. Did I push him into it all? Was I the reason?

Meng Yao has been unusually wearing turtleneck and pants. He didn't have many of those so he bought a few and was even wearing the same inside the house. Meng Yao I know hates turtleneck, being a trainer he always has to be physically active and sweats a lot due to that, so he prefers wearing loose shorts and a vest or an open-neck shirt. He who preferred loose, airy clothing that allowed for freedom of movement was suddenly embracing the suffocating fabric of turtlenecks and long pants. He has been acting weird for the past one week and I'd finally had enough of this. "Meng Yao..." I said, my voice firm but gentle.

He turned to me, wearing a mask of nonchalance. "Hey, what's up?" he asked, as if everything was fine, as if nothing had changed. His heat cycle was over, and now was the time to talk.

"What's going on with you?" I pressed, searching his eyes for any sign of the truth.

He looked at me like I was saying something strange, "What?"

"See you aren't yourself after that day. Your mind is somewhere else. What is it that you can't tell me?".

"I'm good, I'm just busy, that's all. Exams are coming up, and I need to make sure my students are prepared. Plus, the competitions are right around the corner. I'm just tired, Wangji."