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Waking up is never a good feeling, in Sunday's humble opinion. All perceptions are simply too much to record and process, light descends upon his eyes like a dagger to his chest, quiet whispers loud like a child's annoying yelling. He'd rather not be awake at all.
“Love.”
A quiet, warm voice makes its way to his brain, followed by torching, stingy, delicate touches on his skin. A thumb rubs on his naked arm, moving to the top of his head, ruffling his hair with a type of care that rivaled God's love for humanity.
Then, a quiet, sweet peck on his cheek, scratching at his skin and making a pleasured whine leave his lips. The hand in his hair plays with it as the man above him whispers sweet nothings into his ear.
“My love, it's time to wake up from your slumber.” It says, leaving another gentle kiss on his nose.
Sunday whines and turns around, reaching out to the other body on the bed, curling around it. He rubs his forehead against his shoulder, his arms and legs embracing this man that has been letting him live a sweet dream in a cruel, real world.
He feels kisses all over his face, slowly advancing towards his neck, and he inadvertently lets a soft laugh escape his mouth.
“Wake up, darling.”
Slowly, Sunday opens his eyes, just for his field of view being restricted by the face of the man above him. He reaches out a hand to his face, gently caressing it.
“Am I not still dreaming?” He weakly asked, his voice a little sore from his sleep.
Jing Yuan smiles, resting his hand atop of Sunday’s, gently leaning his head into it as he rubs his thumb on its back. The feeling is so soothing and the touch so warm that he almost falls to his slumber again, kept awake only by a gentle tug on his clothes.
Sunday looks up again, eyes slowly opening again and ending on the other again, admiring the view that is trying to wake him up from his dreams. It feels so surreal that he doesn't actually believe that's how he's going to start his day.
“You certainly aren't, if you don't close your eyes again.” Jing Yuan speaks, with a tone coated in honey and a timbre so warm that he could almost feel the faint heat on his skin.
It can't be real, he's still dreaming.
After everything he's done to all he held dear, surely no one thinks he deserves this treatment. No one would send this divine presence for him to feel so warm and calm.
No one would care for him to that extent.
All of a sudden, he feels him next to his ear, whispering again. “You can feel my skin, can't you?”
He feels a tender kiss on his cheek too, and he instinctively rubs his feathers on his face, quietly whining as he wraps his arms around his shoulders.
Everything with him feels as if he's bathing in the sunlight. He can't help but lean into it, begging for more time with him, just in that position.
“The feeling of a pleasant touch isn't real proof I'm not dreaming.” He then manages to answer as his wings happily flutter against his cheeks and he rubs his head on Jing Yuan's clothes.
He doesn't even know how they ended up in his room, but he almost doesn't care.
Turning his head slightly, he catches his lips in a kiss, and his hands reach down enough to pull his thigh garter belts, giving a very clear message to what he wants now.
He thought he would have given it to him, but he didn't. Instead, he just kisses him back, moving his body just slightly to let Sunday keep him in place with his legs, on either side of him.
As soon as their lips separate, Sunday feels a kind hand under his chin, directing his golden eyes to stare into dense, liquid honey. Normally, he would hate a situation like this, where someone else dictates his every action, but right now he doesn't care.
He can't bring himself to care, simply because it feels good. It feels so good, letting him take care of everything he needs, and he's scared of it.
As he thinks whether he likes it or not, he feels warm lips on his neck and he gasps, his wings almost shivering at the contact. Jing Yuan leaves a few kisses there, making a trail up to his chin, letting Sunday quietly pull his hair and clothes with both hands, almost desperate to feel it for a second more.
Unfortunately, Jing Yuan leaves a final kiss on the tip of his nose, caring and affectionate, before starting to ask other questions.
“What is the matter?” He questions, his fingers calmly playing with Sunday's hair.
Sunday ponders if he should tell him the truth. It’s almost embarrassing and he’s not used to sharing his honest thoughts with anyone, but he’s always helped him, throughout these years. He was almost hurt when he turned down his invitation to Penacony, even if he knew the reason why.
He reaches out a hand to cup his cheek, gently rubbing his thumb on his cheek. He doesn’t even remember how they started exchanging opinions and confessions in those letters, but it has always been easy to talk and write to him. Usually, no one would peak into them because they’re official documents sealed with something only they can use to open it. It’s something that was originally implemented on both of their homelands to preserve sensitive documents only certain people can access, if stated so. In the end, it worked in their favour.
“Who started it?” Sunday suddenly asks, sweet eyes gazing in his direction. “Do you remember?”
Jing Yuan stops for a second to think. “If my memory isn’t failing me, I believe you accidentally left a note between official documents you sent to me. Then, I sent it back to you and we kept writing to each other.”
“I’m glad I made that mistake.” He smiles, warmly welcoming a quick peck on his lips.
Jing Yuan rests a finger on his wing, gently caressing it. “Let me ask something now. How long have you had feelings for someone you never met?”
Sunday was expecting that question, if he has to be completely honest. It's something he struggled in the past wrapping his head around too, it just made little sense. He's never heard his voice nor met him, but he could feel the love and care in his writing. It has always been soft, deep, sweet, warm. He could feel them in his very soul.
“I longed to meet you for a few months.” He confesses, in the end. “I thought we would have a chance for the Charmony Festival, but…”
He trails off, memories of that recent period flashing in his head. Most of it is blurry, almost as if he was acting from behind a glass, someone else commanding his body.
However, he remembers all the hurt he's caused.
He knows it's wrong now, but that didn't sway his conviction. He still wants what he did a few days ago, he still believes humans deserve an idyllic paradise to live, he still believes he should be the one suffering because of it, he still believes all evil needs to be eradicated.
What he needs to figure out is how to do so without hurting people like he did already. That isn't what he longs for, nor what he promised.
Jing Yuan moves his hand away, just to caress his hair quietly resting on his shoulder.
“If I had come, nothing would have changed.” He says, moving his eyes to Sunday's. “But, I would have loved to meet you sooner and in… better circumstances.”
Sunday smiles again, slowly shifting his hand to touch his bottom lip with his thumb.“Ever since I left Penacony you have been the only person that I wanted to wake up for. I yearned for this,” he pulls him in for a quick kiss, “many times in the last few days.”
“Then, how does it feel?” Jing Yuan smiles, doing the same for him.
He smiles into the kiss and he lets him rest his forehead against his own, accepting another couple of lazy, quick kisses in rapid succession.
“Like a dream.” Sunday whispers, forcing him to get close enough to leave a few kisses on his jaw and neck.
Jing Yuan laughs, granting him everything he wants at that exact moment. He kisses him on his lips again, his wings carefully caressing his skin.
“It’s a good thing that it isn't.” He whispers, leaning down, intent on kissing him again.
He honestly would have, if someone didn't stop him on his tracks.
“General! It's late!”
Bangs at the door follow, causing Jing Yuan to turn, and smile, as Sunday watches from below.
There's always that sleepy expression on his face, but his eyes are different from before. The utmost care and curiosity towards him turn into affection and pride immediately, leaving him puzzled.
Is that how he looks too, when he talks about his sister? Is that something only a parent can grasp?
He rotates this matter in his head over and over again in those few seconds, until he hears Jing Yuan answer.
“I’m ready, Yanqing.” He calls out, before turning to Sunday and leaving a kiss on his forehead. “Wake up. The clothes and belongings that you need in the morning are over there. Be careful with your wings.”
He leaves the bed, quickly opening the door to entertain the very young, very impatient lieutenant. He doesn't turn to look at Sunday, giving him enough space to wake up and get dressed.
With a huff, he gets off the bed, trying to avoid looking at his body. It's full of scars on his back, hands, feet, chest, a few decorating his forehead too. He's always thought those were necessary for his end goal and he never cared much about them, even if they perpetually hurt him, but after his fall he has been trying to avoid thinking about them.
Jing Yuan, for some reason, doesn't mind them. Maybe it's because he's used to seeing scars, given the amount he still has, something that even his curse wasn't able to heal.
He calmly put on his clothes, carefully fitting his hands into his gloves, letting the scars show in the cross-shaped hole in them, slowly folding his lower wings into his vest, to then put on his pants and shoes.
His wings flutter and end up on his face, forcing him to slightly shake his head. He looks to the side, puzzled, wondering why they suddenly moved like that. He sees them slightly trembling, before standing still again.
He stares at them a few more seconds, before taking the piercings in his hand and noticing the movement start again. It's more subtle now, but it can still be seen by anyone.
Sunday opts to sigh and put them in his pockets, putting on only his earrings. Maybe, avoiding them today would have ended up being better for him. Maybe, he would stop putting them on, if that's the reaction his own body is having.
As he stares into the mirror to put on his earrings, he listens to what Jing Yuan and his child are saying, simply to know what he's walking into.
“Who are we waiting for?” Yanqing asks, a little annoyed.
Jing Yuan laughs softly before answering. “I have a guest today.”
“General, are you sleeping around again?” Yanqing dryly asks, making Sunday smile.
The thought of Jing Yuan sleeping around with strangers couldn't be farther from the truth, but it's funny nevertheless. Despite his thoughts, even if that use of ‘again’ would mean it's not the first time that happens
“What do you mean, Yanqing?” He laughs, dismissing the matter. “I hardly let anyone into my room.”
Sunday looks over to the mirror to check if everything is at the right place, deciding he's ready after a few seconds.
Yanqing huffs, defeated. “You know that's not what I-”
“You must be Yanqing, the knight prodigy.” Sunday intervenes, smiling at the boy.
Eyes made of honey and melted gold stare back at him, innocent and curious. He's never met him, but he knew he had his same eyes. It's hard to believe he isn't his son.
“You look a lot like your father.” He mentions, keeping to politely smiling at him.
He knows he's about to ask something about him or to correct him on his relationship with Jing Yuan, but Sunday stops him before he could even open his mouth.
“My name is Sunday.” He rests a hand on his heart, slightly bowing. “I am an old acquaintance of the general.”
Jing Yuan nods, explaining further. “I haven't heard from him for a while, so I made sure he would receive an official invitation from the Xianzhou Alliance to visit the Luofu.”
Yanqing doesn't seem convinced, but there isn't something they have to worry about. In fact, he just greets them and returns to his duties, leaving them alone.
“Well, enjoy your stay, Mr. Sunday!” He yells as he runs away, waving to the both of them.
Sunday politely waves back and shyly smiles, before turning to Jing Yuan again, who is looking at him with the same care he did before they got interrupted.
“I will personally be responsible for your stay.” He announces, giving him a calm and happy smile.
He's sure he would wag a tail now, if he had one.
Sunday politely smiles back. “Doesn’t the Divine Foresight have more pressing matters to attend to?”
“There are some. But I am lucky enough that I’m in the transition of stepping down for my position, therefore Lady Fu will take those matters into her own capable hands during this time.” He calmly explains, starting to walk forward without signaling him to follow.
He does anyway, figuring out this is simply something that he's used to doing, since he's been general for a long time. He can't imagine he takes these mannerisms at home on purpose, but after centuries, something is meant to be engraved in someone's body. Even someone like him.
The general doesn't stop any time soon, and Sunday has the chance to look around in the meantime. The streets brim with life, albeit slightly different from Penacony, but he could feel the planet breathing with each step he takes. Shops, families, musicians, artisans, the occasional cloud knight at the edge of the road. Everything is warm and breathing life into the planet.
A quiet smile appears on his face, his wings ruffling their feathers in approval and moving slightly from the happiness. He knows this also has its negatives like horrible people, or attempts at disrupting peace, but that isn't what Jing Yuan wants to show him. If he's here, with him, it can just be that he wants him to see something positive, at the very least.
“I think you will like this place.” He hints, leading him to an extreme side of the planet, only pure space awaiting them after that rail they were resting against.
As soon as Sunday looks forward, his mouth gapes in marvel, scrutating every part of that show of light. There are the sun, moon, stars and space merging into one painting, and he's not sure he can look elsewhere upon gazing at it.
Jing Yuan looks at him and softly smiles, fully aware of the fact that he couldn't even bother to notice him.
“I’m sure that you know that Penacony isn't the only place with these types of sights, but it seems rather clear to me that you are trying to escape from reality.” Jing Yuan says as he looks in front of him, feeling Sunday's gaze shifting to his body. “At the same time, if you stayed within that dream, you wouldn't have been able to witness this nor meet me.”
Sunday immediately changed attitude with a deeper tone, almost growling at him. “What is this about?”
“What you want it to be.” Jing Yuan turns to him again, keeping on smiling. “Proof that you should stay alive and stop fighting to dream and escape, maybe.”
He immediately ceases any arguing he might have had in store, and he looks at the moon. He's not sure he should tell him the real reason why he's there, but maybe it would be better for the both of them.
“I’m going to join the Stellaron Hunters.” He spits out, resting his folded arms on the metallic rail. “This is a visit of courtesy, as repayment for all those times you lent an ear to my worries.”
All he gets in response is a relaxed laugh. “Not everything needs to be repaid. I wrote to you because I liked doing so and I wanted to know you. Why did you?”
Sunday freezes in his tracks, blankly staring at him. A thousand feelings come back, rocking his very soul like a powerful storm does to a mismanaged boat.
His heart clenches, and his fist instinctively grabs his clothes right on his chest, as his eyes lower in thought. He knows what he wants to say, he wants him to know desperately, but he has to think about how to say them.
He wants him to know he cares too much for his own good. He wants him to know why he clinged to him so quickly. Even if he swore he'd never open his heart to anyone a long time ago, he wants to do it now.
It's not logical or self-preserving, it's simply a desire buried deep within him that he now wants to show him.
“Because you were the first person that treated me as more than the Oak Family Head.” He blurts out, all of a sudden. “I knew you were an Emanator of the Hunt. I knew we'd never see eye to eye. But I wanted to be closer to you. I wanted to know how it feels, to be treated as more than just a fancy title or a precious object to move around.”
Everything he says is full of guilt and sadness, but it's something he needs him to know too. Their numerous arguments hurt him, but talking to him makes him feel more alive than he's ever felt. He needs him to understand all of his feelings now, no matter what it takes.
Jing Yuan visibly melts in front of him, his eyes brimming with love and care. “Oh, my dearest. Is that all?” He softly answers, with a voice so warm and soft that it feels like touching the clouds high in the sky.
He reaches out a hand to cup his cheek, and Sunday leans in, closing his eyes and yielding once again to those caring attentions. His wings happily flutter and a relaxed smile makes its way on his face. Despite all that resentment, all the hurt from those arguments, he still feels like he's in Heaven.
“We're bound to clash, but that doesn't erase my feelings, as it doesn't yours.” Jing Yuan continues, as Sunday slightly opens his eyes to look at him. “You can always tell me of your worries and joys, as we used to in those letters.”
A smile and a soft hum speak for him, as he pulls Jing Yuan closer by the wrist of the hand resting against the railing. He lets go of both of his hands, stepping closer to hug him, his wings happily flapping against his shoulders before mimicking a hug as well.
Jing Yuan hugs him back, peacefully humming an incomprehensible melody.
“Is that why you kissed me and begged me to sleep together last night?” He asks all of a sudden, running a hand between his hair.
Sunday sighs and pushes back just slightly, enough to be able to look at him, but not too much to dissolve the embrace. He rests a hand on his shoulder, almost in possessiveness as he answers the question.
“Yes.” He only mutters, keeping eye contact.
Jing Yuan pets his hair, putting it back in order, to then slightly brush against his right wing. He folded the other one, not sure if the touch would hurt him, given it refused to even wear the usual piercings he always wore.
“If I didn't like it, don't you think I would have sent you on your merry way?” He asks, dropping his hand on his side. “I'm asking you this as a friend. Don't push me away like you do with every other soul that tried to help you.”
He doesn't know if it's the kind smile or the pleads out of sheer worry, but something gives him the right push to kiss him again, his wings ruffling and fluttering, emotions all over the place. He doesn't even know if he's glad or mad he's here.
All he knows is that he likes it, for better or worse.
He rests both of his hands between his cheekbones and neck, taking everything Jing Yuan can possibly give him. On his part, he feels a constant push against his body, until he's completely against the railing and his back is slowly bending over it.
Despite that, despite knowing he's lost control of the situation already, he doesn't feel the impulse to run or to regain it. He feels safe enough knowing Jing Yuan is there. Somehow, it's almost as if his sole presence makes him feel able to face what he's scared of the most.
Jing Yuan let's go of his lips, just to give him another quick kiss. And another. And another. And another.
At that point, Sunday can barely think, and all he does is wrap his arms around his shoulders as he keeps him standing up. It's deplorable, really, he doesn't know why he's so attracted to him.
It all started with a few letters, he's just met him and he's this far gone already?
Maybe he needs it. Maybe he's not even acting on personal desires and he's just helping him like he's always done.
Yes, maybe it's just that. Even if those kisses taste of stardust and desire. Even if he could feel the list radiating from his irises.
No, he must care just that much. He's not someone who doesn't think much of him or that wants to hurt him like this.
He's not like him. He deserves love.
“My dear, are you still here?”
Jing Yuan's voice echoes in his mind, grave and powerful, but soft and gentle too. His words resound in his mind every time he hears or reads them, almost like a reminder he can hold onto them to keep walking on the path he chose, despite how different their thoughts can be.
“Sorry, I was… thinking.” He apologizes, feeling his head spinning for a couple of seconds.
He doesn't understand why, until Jing Yuan holds his pierced wing with his fingers. He feels a stinging pain, then a small drop of blood falls on his shoulder, staining his white coat.
“This wing of yours has been spasming for a while.” Jing Yuan explains, letting it go.
It hurts. He doesn't even know how it got injured up to that point. Maybe his own body was tired of his useless self-sacrifice too.
He notices Jing Yuan getting closer all of a sudden, and watches him as he raises a hand. “May I?” He gently asks, flickering a few lightning sparks between his fingers.
Sunday has no idea of what he wants or can do with those, but he certainly knows. He just leans in, giving him all the space he needs to do what he has to.
Jing Yuan directs some sparks in the wound, trying not to directly touch it. It's meant to hurt, but Sunday immediately bites his hand, the rings on his glove in between his canine teeth.
He ends up glowing, but he thinks it's so intense because Jing Yuan is trying to use the right amount of power to make sure he wouldn't be exposed to it for too much time.
When he feels the pain fade, Sunday takes his fist out of his mouth and turns to the side, trying to flap the wing. It does without problems, and there is no pain to be felt.
He faintly smiles, before turning to Jing Yuan. “Thank you.” He whispers, way softer than he intended it to be.
As an answer, he brushes his fingers against the wing, causing Sunday to laugh in reflex, pulling against the railing as he's held in place by Jing Yuan's free hand.
The general catches his lips in a tender kiss, quicker than the last one, and smiles at him.
“I was afraid of seeing you giving up on your humanity to be who everyone else believes you to be.” He mutters, almost against his lips. “Seeing you laugh, just now, so carelessly, eased my worries.”
Sunday stares at him, not sure of what to do. He is willing to open up to him– he's already too far gone to stop doing it now, but he's confused. He usually refuses all sorts of confessions on his inner and most important feelings, so much so that he doesn't know how to answer that.
Anger and frustration slowly build inside him, and lashes out. “You don’t know me as much as you believe you do.”
“Don’t I?” Jing Yuan laughs at him, almost endearingly. “I know you avoid eating sweets, because you believe it would damage the purity that someone else said your body should have. I know your so-called guardian has been grooming you since you were a child. I know that one of your wings was damaged when you were a child and never recovered. I know that whenever you ruffle your wings you agree with what I’m saying. You told and showed me so much of yourself over these past few years… you can’t hide from me.”
“Have I truly told you all of this, or did you run a background check on me?” He questions further, visibly panicking by now.
He knows he's told him a lot of things, but them being listed out in front of him is almost insulting.
“I interpreted some of it from our letters, you told me the rest yesterday evening.” Jing Yuan confesses, catching his attention again. “You were… very drunk.”
Sunday freezes upon hearing those last words. He doesn't remember much from last night, but he thought he drank way too much and Jing Yuan brought him away, not that he talked with him long enough to tell him anything of what he mentioned.
He probably looks desperate, trying to recall what happened just a mere twelve system hours ago, but he can't afford to care now.
“Don’t worry,” came Jing Yuan's voice, calm and reassuring, “I made sure you would stop drinking and took care of you. But you did tell me a lot of things.”
Exactly as he thought, then.
He knows Jing Yuan is a person deserving of great trust and that he knows how to manage a similar situation, but it's worrying that he doesn't remember anything at all. He remembers before and after, but he doesn't remember the rest at all.
Usually, he has blurs or moments that he remembers at least, but this time it's just a black void, as if he slept through all of it.
“How do I not remember it…” He whispers, resting a hand on his forehead as he keeps thinking, unsure of what to think about the situation.
Jing Yuan's hands land on his shoulders, catching his attention. He smiles at him, before explaining what he can.
“The drink you chose is one such beverage. Not many order it and even less accept serving it, but given your reputation, I don’t doubt some people tried to do such a thing.” He calmly states, exhaling as soon as he stops. “Nevertheless, you were with me right after, so everything solved itself rather smoothly.”
Oh. Spiked drinks. Humanity didn't change.
He often forgets his own reputation and the consequences of it, honestly, but he usually doesn't drink, especially on another planet. This time, the feelings of hurt and loss stroke more than usual, so he must have been carried away.
“What else did I tell you?” He asks, turning to Jing Yuan again.
He warmly smiles at him, letting his hands trail down his arms until their fingers intertwine. “You talked a lot about your sister.”
At the mention of Robin, Sunday slightly pushes him away, and turns towards the scenery in front of them.
It still hurts.
He still misses her, every day of his life. Often, he wonders if they could ever meet again, and every time he talks himself out of it to save her from unnecessary heartbreak. He caused her enough problems already, he has no rights to get back into her life.
Jing Yuan must have noticed how sensitive the topic is, and he changes subject, without mentioning his sister.
He's glad he didn't, even just because he's feeling himself slip into an endless, dark tunnel he can't get away from.
“Sunday, I learned the hard way that it’s better to talk about your feelings with someone.” He says, careful to his every reaction to those words. “You look like you are on the verge of breaking down.”
He feels his hands tremble slightly, before forcing a smile on his face. “And what if I am?”
“Then, you should ask for help. I am sure I’m not the first person saying this, but you don’t have to suffer alone.”
Those words echo in his mind, almost until becoming hollow, but instead transformed into a deeper, higher meaning. It's a simple concept, one he's known for so long, but so incredibly hard to actually put into motion.
Sunday simply nods, softening his expression slightly and gaining another smile from Jing Yuan.
“I don’t mind lending you my shoulder whenever you need it, as I know you will too, when I ask of you the same.” He simply states, as if it's the most natural thing to say in this situation.
Maybe it is, but Sunday isn't used to this amount of kindness. He knew already that Jing Yuan has always been a good person at his core just by their letters, but he couldn't know this is who he truly is. A kind, gentle, good man all around.
That just makes him more confused as the reason why everyone seems to hate gentle dreams so much.
“Why do you all want to feel all this pain?” He asks, staring at Jing Yuan for an answer.
He just smiles and looks over the railing, his eyes distant and melancholic. “Because it is part of life, and because it is meant to be shared. Do you not feel better, knowing you aren’t suffering in a black, cold room, alone with your thoughts?”
Those simple words resounded in his soul, almost creating a melody made of sunshine and brightness, hope for the future. Nor Xipe or Ena warmed his heart with their choir and harmonies, but a simple morning with a man he only exchanged letters with was enough for him to feel something so rare and precious.
Sunday knows in his heart that he’s right and he’s lucky to hear it so soon after his fall from grace. He’s grateful he picked him up last night, despite not being forced to nor being notified by him directly that he was on the Luofu. Sometimes he wonders if he’s truly just human, with how he carries himself and how omnipresent and knowledgeable he seems.
Jing Yuan quietly and slowly wraps his hand around his fist, smiling at him, and that’s enough to bring back Sunday’s attention to his surroundings. Sometimes he forgets reality isn’t like dreams for many other aspects of life, but he’s glad he’s not reprimanded for it or violently woken up to reality, for now. He doesn’t know how he’d even react to something like that.
“I am sure your sister would have wanted the same,” Jing Yuan whispers, “but in her absence, I shall do what I can to help you.”
Sunday smiles almost in reflex, as he physically feels warmth wander in his chest and sunlight on his face, for the first time entertaining the desire of walking the path lighted up for him by others, not his sister, not his family, not even his mother. If this is what it’s supposed to feel being alive despite all the pain, maybe he can accept it and try to live it. Not for some greater plan imposed on him by someone else, but because he wants to feel this happiness again and choose a path for himself.
He reaches out for his cheeks, awfully aware of the probably sparkles in his eyes as he looks at Jing Yuan, and kisses him. It was supposed to be a way to thank him, but it quickly transformed into something that he’s not completely sure he understands. It’s way more desperate and pleading that he intended it to be, but maybe because they don’t have time again and he wants to let him know what he means to him. Maybe it’s something he can’t understand because his mind is clouded, but he doesn’t care now.
Maybe, it’s fine to just… do.
Maybe, living doesn’t require him to be perfect, or to shoulder everything for everyone else.
Maybe, sometimes, he can grant himself selfish happiness.
Their lips part, but Sunday doesn’t move away, instead deciding to look down at his lips for a few seconds, to move his eyes up to Jing Yuan’s golden ones.
“Thank you, Jing Yuan.” He whispers, almost against his lips.
Jing Yuan smiles and kisses his cheek, happily realizing that he leaned in, shyly smiled and closed his eyes in response. He will be fine, he thinks, as he glances behind him, over the railing, spotting a figure from his past whom he let go not too long ago.
He lets Sunday go, but he lets him cup his face with a gloved hand and kiss his cheek before he watches him leave, with a tiny piece of paper in his hands. He looks at it as he opens it and smiles, folding it again. He doubted he could feel happiness in such a situation, but he did, despite all the odds, and it’s something he will cherish in the next few years of his life.
Playing with the piece of paper with his fingers, he raises it against the light of the sun, revealing the words in a clearer way, and now he’s smiling even more, extremely happy for the first time in centuries.
Write to me again, my dearest sunshine.