Fluffy WangXian Oneshots Book Two

Diamond With A Flaw Part 2

It's just gone past five-thirty, and Wei Ying is finally free. He works in a hairdressing salon, sometimes opening up for the boss and standing on his feet for the better part of the day. Wei Ying doesn't bother checking his outfit or changing his clothes before he leaves work, still minimally covered in other people's hair, but at least he smells nice. He learnt early on a few years ago not to wear his best clothes in that place, not when he couldn't guarantee the state of them at the end of the day.

This morning, he had shimmied into his leather pants, and okay, they're a bit snug, but they make the view of his back phenomenal, and the hairs just slide off. Plus, black goes with everything, including his red t-shirt with black claw marks both in front and on his back. It often gets hot in the salon, so he layers up with easily removable cardigans and sweaters. Today, he's wearing his favourite black hoodie with red accents. But if he looks a little rough around the edges, well, that's kind of the point, isn't it? According to his self-advertisement, he's supposed to be the wild card, the bad boy boyfriend, if that's the reason he's been summoned.

He hurries to the little coffee shop where they've agreed to meet, this mysterious stranger whose first text was only three words: can you help?

He's just finished work for the day, and he's tired, anxious to return home. Wen Qing has sent him here with clear instructions, in spite of his refusal to take anything about this seriously. This person, the one who calls himself Lan Zhan, texts like an old man, and that's really the main reason why Wen Qing advised him to be careful.

Wei Ying didn't get much more out of their minimal back and forth, only exchanging a handful of messages, but the gist of them being that this Lan Zhan is in a bind and needs help ASAP. See, after that first text from him last night, around nine-ish, all of Wei Ying's replies went unseen, so either the guy was absent from his phone or he'd switched it off...but who does that so early in the evening? Wei Ying honestly thought he was being ghosted and was prepared to write him off as a waste of time.

But then this morning, Lan Zhan had apologised for not responding straight away and although he hadn't given a reason for his lack of response, he mentioned that he felt uncomfortable discussing their possible collaboration over text and requested a meeting, which is why Wei Ying is standing in line and waiting for his coffee.

It's a nice place, this coffee shop, he realises. It's not part of a chain, and that's kind of good. There's a comfortable-looking turquoise sofa by the window, a funky loveseat with orange and purple striped retro cushions that look squishable, and a couple of tables artfully scattered within easy reach. A few monochromatic abstract paintings are hung on the walls framed by hanging green plants, and it's elegantly casual. He takes his tray to the loveseat because then he has the best view of the door and anyone walking in.

Wen Qing wants him to be safe, he reminds himself as he settles down, making himself comfortable. That's why she suggested he meet Lan Zhan in a public place where he can shout for help if he feels unsafe - after all, they know virtually nothing about this person.

People watching is relaxing, Wei Ying thinks, smiling at a teenager with a Maine Coone cat on a leash and obviously struggling with the creature as their wills clash; she wants to come inside and the cat definitely does not. A sweet old couple stroll past her with arms linked, and the cute old man is focused solely on his wife, his merry eyes twinkling in awe even though they must have been together for decades. There's such love in his expression that Wei Ying can't help staring back at them with a longing of his own.

How nice would that feel? To be in the company of someone who loves so unconditionally, so much that they can't look away for even a second? To be appreciated and claimed by one's feelings is just the best part of being in a relationship, he thinks sadly. There's something so wholesome about it, something everyone wants, and because it's so rare, that makes it even more precious. He's still staring out of the window when someone clears their throat near him. He gets a whiff of a woodsy scent...something clean and kind of spicy but in a floral way? He can't put his finger on it, but it reminds him of old temples, mystical and fancy.