Edith Redwood

Hello, Moas! Apparently my YeonBin fic entitled Beauty And A Beat is nominated as the best romance here! Please vote for me, that would mean the whole world to me ✨ thank you if you did cause I'll post an extra chapter lol
          
          https://www.wattpad.com/1613887652-the-hidden-gem-reader-choice-awards-best-romance

"so go on, tell me your deepest secrets, your darkest sins," said the gilt-eyed, stranger, his eyes glittering with a curious mischief in the dim glow of moonlight. "I won't judge." 
          And for some odd reason, Wei Wuxian believed him. Smiling wistfully, he glanced up at the sky, fighting the tears that were threatening to take over. He'd always been a quiet drunk, in contrast to his usual personality. And though he knew he wasn't drunk now, he could feel the familiar surge of feelings crashing over, drowning him in waves. 
          "I feel too much," Wei Wuxian started, wondering if there was anything in the vast expanse of the sky that could tether him to earth. "I feel like I'm overflowing every day. It's not even about big matters, it's about everything- and it's getting painful to feel. I can't turn it off like a tap, even if I should. I'm too much for anyone to handle." 
          
          The gilt-eyed stranger considered his words for a while, before finally countering. "That's not always a bad thing, though. It means you have empathy. It's a gift, to be able to feel. I know people who would kill for it," he said simply, his gaze never wavering from Wei Wuxian. "And you're never too much, you're human. You're not something that needs to be handled, you're just someone who needs to be loved," 
          Wei Ying dragged his eyes away from the sky to look back at the beautiful stranger, his nerves nearly buckling from the intensity of his gaze. 
          "But first, you need to love yourself." 

It was odd. As a kid, all Wei Wuxian he ever wanted was to grow up. But now, as a grown up all he wanted to do was to be a kid again, to run wild and free, even if his youth had been full of hubris. There was something sweet, he supposed, in staying innocent, in staying naive. 
          And watching A-Yuan playing in front of him, running happily across the barren fields, blissfully unaware of the spirits that haunted the former grave, he finally understood one thing. 
          In growing up, it wasn't that the world had changed. The ghosts had been here for centuries, and would remain here for many more. Instead, it was Wei Wuxian himself who had changed, no longer carefree, no longer naive.  

(a continuation of the previous scene) 
          The gilt-eyed stranger didn't speak, simply glanced at Wei Wuxian, the words behind his eyes indecipherable— and yet it was the most seen Wei Ying had felt in months, maybe even years. He looked at him like he was studying him, and Wei Ying couldn't help but wonder what it'd be like to be adored by him, what it'd be like to be loved by him. But it was a foolish thought, nearly laughable. They were nothing more than beautiful strangers in the dead of the night,  nothing but two ships passing by in the embrace of moonlight. The silence lasted for a few minutes, before he finally spoke up. 
          "No," his voice was deep and slightly rough, a contrast to his polished composure, " everyone wants to be seen. It's innate," 
          The beautiful stranger before him leaned back slightly, and it was almost surreal to think that such a composed figure would deign to be here, sitting next to Wei Wuxian on wild grass in the middle of nowhere while wearing formal clothes. The blue top matched him perfectly, and Wei Ying could tell from the cut of his trousers that they were tailored, probably bespoke. 
          "No matter how we try to convince ourselves otherwise, it's human to want to be known. There's nothing wrong with it. We all need a witness in our lives sometimes. All need an accomplice from time to time," Something in his gilt eyes seemed to intensify, sending a spark of electricity down Wei Wuxian's spine. 
          

"I feel like a ghost," Wei Wuxian laughed, but the sound was hollow, and his eyes remained weary. He wasn't quite sure what he was doing here still, pouring his heart out to a stranger he just met. But at least he was real, unlike the swathes of online profiles he's seen before, the bots, the people, that seemed to vanish as soon as he began typing. He's gotten used to it, seeing the flicker of green next to a profile and typing, only for his texts to go unanswered. It could be days, weeks, even months when they remembered to respond. Some of them would never remember. 
          And yet, he kept trying, showing up for people who'd never do the same back, even if they'd done so in the beginning. And maybe that's just the way it was meant to be. He smiled at the gilt-eyed stranger sitting across him, and vaguely wondered if things would be different if he'd met him across the screen. And for the first time in a long while, Wei Wuxian admitted he felt lonely. 
          "But maybe that's just how it's supposed to be. I get to vanish into the background," he let out another laugh, a harsh, bitter sound, "Isn't that a good thing?" 

@EdmontonAlbertaCan upcoming, I hope- (written with that intention, but we shall see how that progresses first, hehe)

It unsettles Wei Wuxian. Once the words are out of his hands, he can't get back to them anymore. There's no way of scrounging them up and putting them back into his heart, carving them back into his brain, no other way of letting the words creep back and meld back into the beat of his unfettered heart, no way to let them take hold of his mind, letting him loose control again. There's no way to escape, and all that sits before him is a long, unending tunnel, the sneer of a blank cage coming back to greet him. 
          "There's a new master now," the words seem to sneer, darting just out of his reach, hiding in the crevices of his mind. But all Wei Wuxian hears is 4 words. 
          You. Are. Not. Needed. 
          And it terrified him, more than it should. Because in the thousands of today, and the thousands of tomorrow, Wei Wuxian has only ever clung on to one hope. 
          The words need him. The words need him to live. 
          Now, though- it appears the tides have changed. 
          
          

"you've written so many love stories," Lan Zhan breathes, finally looking up at the boy sitting across him, draped across the table. Lan Wangji might never confess it, but he's read all of the illustrious Yiling Laozu's novels, from the moment the first one came out. "So why, why, can't you love yourself? Believe there's something in yourself worthy of love?" 
          
          The laugh that escapes the writer's lips is painted, a sharp rasp. "There's a difference between being in love with someone else and being in love with yourself. You can love someone without loving yourself, even though it shouldn't happen." 
          
          "It's hard to be in love with oneself, which makes writing an even more brilliant escape, don't you think? You can write a thousand beginnings, a thousand endings, of people falling in love with one another over and over again without once having to be in love yourself." 

All things fall apart eventually. 
          It's a universal truth, one that Wei Wuxian has never quite experienced yet, not until now. Staring at the papers in front of him, marked with a harsh grade, he sees the same few numbers over and over again. 32. 34. 36. 37. 38. All of these are out of a 100, and Wei Ying is failing all of his classes as of now, and the national exams are just a month away. He can feel the dread crawl up his throat before he even remembers to breathe, and for the first time in a long while, he feels the urge to cry. 
          But he can't. There's a room filled with people that surround him, caging him in as his mind begins to descend, his heartbeat turning erratic, a sick, wet feeling in his chest beginning to pool. 32. 34. 36. 37. 38. 
          The numbers haunt him as he looks at them through bleary eyes, his lips chapped and dry as the professor drones on and on about whatever he does, and this time, it feels like his life is on the line.

I love you something tender,
          I love you something sweet, 
          until the roots of my gums can no longer hold my teeth. 
          
          I love you something bitter, 
          I love you something brash,
          Until the quiet pump of my lungs exhale their last shaky breath