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my memory plays our tune, the same old song

Summary:

Someone moves into the vacant flat adjacent to Lan Wangji. They have a small son who cries himself to sleep every night.

Reminded of his own troubles as a child, Lan Wangji takes the music box his mother gifted him and knocks on his new neighbour's door.

If the music box was able to help him, there is no reason to believe it won't be able to help another child in distress, right?

Notes:

The music box in question:

 

Yes, that is me holding it. I saw it at the store and went "That is the most Babyji thing I have ever seen" and had to have it. jiejieaini owns the same one. I've sent it to them; apparently, their face turned into the pleading eye emoji when they first saw it.

It plays "It's A Small World", just as tinny as it is in the linked recording, lol. My own music box I had as a baby had it too (although it looked like a pink elephant), which is where the inspiration for this fic came from.

Title taken from James Blunt's "1973", which is one of my personal favourite songs.

Special shoutout to mulberry_graceful for brainstorming ideas with me for this one. ♥

Super special shoutout to Witch_Nova221 for letting me borrow her Jenny for this story. If you have not read Echoes of Love, I highly recommend it. You WILL cry, but you will love it.

As per usual with my works, the characterisation hinges more on CQL. If you don't like that, this might not be the fic for you. Much love! ♥

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Note for podficcers: Everything is in Lan Wangji's POV except for the first few paragraphs, up to the first " *** ". That's Mama Lan.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

A-Zhan cannot sleep. His mother sighs.

She turns in her bed, reaching out to her husband’s sleeping form.

As usual, the bed beside her is empty, the mattress cold, the sheets untouched. She briefly wonders where he might be spending the night this time, but then shakes it off when she hears a tiny knock on her bedroom door.

A-Huan, her oldest son, sleepily peeks through, unsure whether he should enter.

“Mama,” he says quietly. 

“A-Zhan?” she asks, and A-Huan nods.

A-Zhan, her youngest son, is three years old and has trouble sleeping. Both of her sons are very sensitive, but she suspects that A-Zhan can somehow sense her own distress even more than his older brother does - the fact that her husband seems to have lost interest in his own family, being away more often than he is home. The fact that she is trying to hide a cough that only seems to grow more persistent, no matter how much cough syrup she takes to stave it off. 

She will have to visit a doctor soon. She’s afraid of what she will learn. If this is what she thinks it is, if this is the same illness that already afflicted her own mother and other members of her family, then it might be too late for her already.

But she must try. For her children, and for herself.

A-Zhan is an inquisitive child. He looks at the world with big shining eyes and likes to learn as much as he can, but even at his young age, he knows how to appreciate beauty in its simplest form. If he spots a flower he thinks to be pretty, he can spend hours just sitting there, admiring it and spinning stories around it in his head.

He doesn’t talk much if he doesn’t feel the need to, but the stories he tells his mother and his brother are always full of colour and light and imagination. She loves them with all of her heart, and it breaks her to see her baby so quiet and withdrawn. 

A-Zhan is clearly tired, looking at her with drowsy eyes when she enters her sons’ shared bedroom, and yet he just can’t fall asleep. His splotchy face gives away the fact that he’s been crying. She tries singing to him, reading to him, and playing with the finger puppets and his rabbit plush to distract his mind from whatever keeps him from sleeping.

It doesn’t work as well as she would like it to. She ends up taking both of her sons with her to the big bed, where she reads to them until she can’t keep her own eyes open anymore. Eventually, they fall asleep, cuddled up against each other, but it’s not enough.

One day, while she is visiting friends in Yiling and taking a stroll with them while her boys are having a sleepover with their uncle, she spots a small wooden music box in the window of a charity shop. It’s shaped like a carousel, the dome striped in white and light blue. Four chubby white rabbits dance around on it in lieu of horses.

She stops to look at it, a thought forming in her mind. She is aware it’s meant for babies. A-Zhan will be turning four in a few weeks. He’s not actually a baby anymore, but he adores rabbits and music. Somehow, she knows that the melody will soothe her youngest one when the world gets just a bit too much, that watching the rabbits spin will take his mind to a more peaceful place.

If a toy meant for babies can help her youngest one, who is she to deny him that comfort? It’s worth at least a try.

The music box is in great condition. It spins well, once the upper part is screwed securely to the base. The teeth of the music box all still work very well too, producing a lovely little melody, even if it might sound a bit tinny.

“It’s a mass-produced piece,” the shopkeeper tells her. “I do have a similar one with spinning elephants for my daughter. It plays the same melody. I’ve done some research, and it seems like this is one of the most popular melodies for kids’ music boxes out there.”

She learns that the music box was brought in by a wealthy-looking man, just a few weeks ago, stating that it belonged to friends who have no need for it anymore. Carefully she takes the music box into her hands, turns it around, and wonders about the child it had brought joy to before it ended up here. Maybe the child had grown out of it, and it was decided to pass it on to someone else.

In any case, she hopes that the child this music box first belonged to is happy and healthy, and loved. It’s what she wishes for her own children, at all times.

A-Zhan’s eyes are wary when she puts the wrapped music box on the table, but his whole face lights up once she and A-Huan help him unwrap it and he discovers the chubby bunnies on the carousel. She winds it up and lets it spin on A-Zhan’s nightstand as she tucks him in for the night. Together with A-Huan, she observes as A-Zhan’s eyes watch the rabbits spin around the carousel, the soft tinkling of the music box wafting through the flat like a sweet perfume. 

She watches as his eyes slowly fall closed, faster than they have in the last few weeks.

“It’s working,” she whispers to A-Huan, who nods and smiles.

 

***

 

The music box remains on A-Zhan’s nightstand for the following two years. It moves and gets set up on a different nightstand after his mother passes, and people start calling him “Lan Wangji” instead of “Lan Zhan,” his uncle the only one who still uses the old “A-Zhan” from time to time when they are alone. His brother is “Lan Xichen” now, instead of “Lan Huan.” It’s…weird, but he is getting used to it. Lan Wangji thinks he prefers it that way. At least he doesn’t flinch every time someone calls him by his childhood name, and it doesn’t sound like his mother’s voice.

The music box moves onto Lan Wangji’s bookshelves as he grows older. He doesn’t spin it as often anymore as he used to, but the melody still soothes him like nothing else. It’s a popular tune; he has heard it a thousand times while passing toy shops on his way to school, and yet he will always associate it with his mother, with the teasing lilt in her voice, the gentle caress of her hands, the warmth of her embrace.

Maybe, one day, Lan Wangji will write a melody that will mean just as much to someone else. Maybe he’ll write it for his mother, his brother, or someone else entirely. It has been his secret dream since he started his piano lessons, and it’s one that will accompany him into adulthood.

The music box remains his companion wherever life takes him. It lives in his closet in his university dorm room, hidden away from view because Lan Wangji could not stand to hear anyone laugh at it. It has a place of honour on the bookcases Lan Wangji sets up in his flat after his studies, where he can see it from almost everywhere in his living room. 

Even if he doesn’t need to hear its tune anymore to fall asleep, just looking at it gives him comfort. And whenever the world gets too much, he knows its melody will be there for him.

 

***

 

One day, Lan Wangji finds a folded-up note in his letterbox. He can see it peeking out from other letterboxes as well and rolls his eyes. He does neither want to sell his car to some shady door-to-door salesman nor does he need the services of someone who claims to be a medium, especially not if they call themselves Master Futuroni.

The note, however, is handwritten.

"Hello new neighbour!" it spells in energetic characters.

"My name is Wei Wuxian, and I will be moving into 3 15 b at the end of this week. While I will try to get this move over with as smoothly as possible, I’d like to let you know that I have a young son who doesn’t take well to changes. It’s possible that he might be crying for quite a while at bedtime. I will do my best to get him adjusted as quickly as possible, but you never know with these things, so I just wanted to give you a heads-up. I cannot wait to meet you all!”

3 15 b. Lan Wangji lives in 3 14 b. This Wei Wuxian will become his direct neighbour. He knows the flat adjacent to his has been vacant for some time, and while Lan Wangji loves his peace and quiet, he doesn’t think that a crying child will disturb his routine too much.

 

***

 

It does disturb his routine. A lot. Lan Wangji thinks the child in question must have the lungs fit for a career as an Olympic swimmer.

The boy is relatively quiet during the day. There is a bit of giggling and babbling now and then, and the rattling of toys, accompanied by the typical noises of moving into a new space. It’s at bedtime that things tend to escalate.

It always begins with a bit of wailing before the sirens really start to blare. This goes on for hours until the child presumably cries himself to exhaustion.

It’s not the only thing Lan Wangji hears, though. Wei Wuxian tries his very best to appease his son. Lan Wangji hears him sing and play melodies on what must be a flute. He tries silly games Lan Wangji doesn’t know or recognise, muffled as they are through the living room wall that separates the two flats.

Nothing seems to be working. More often than not, after the child finally has cried himself to sleep, Lan Wangji can hear soft sobbing coming from his neighbour’s flat as if the man is trying to keep as quiet as possible but fails.

After five days of the same thing every night, Lan Wangji feels like crying himself. Meditating is out of the question; the feeling of earplugs irritates him, his noise-cancelling headphones usually work but feel too heavy when he’s actively trying to sit down and center himself. He cannot concentrate on any reading, or on his music. Playing the piano is out of the question with all of this crying.

And so, Lan Wangji goes to bed every night cranky and unable to sleep.

He does feel bad for getting angry at a small child. After all, he had trouble sleeping in his early childhood as well and kept his mother and brother up at night for hours with his own crying. Wei Wuxian only said that he has a young son; Lan Wangji doesn’t know how young this child is, or what ails the boy. 

So the next time the boy is crying, Lan Wangji makes a decision. He takes the music box from its shelf, exits his flat, and rings his neighbour’s doorbell.

The music box was able to help him as a child, even though he was technically too old for it. Maybe it can help this child as well.

It takes a few moments before the door creaks open. From behind it, Wei Wuxian looks at him. His long dark hair is in a dishevelled messy ponytail, as if he has been running his fingers through it, even though it’s tied back. His eyes are bloodshot, shining with tears. His face is splotchy; he has clearly been crying,

He is beautiful, despite it all. 

Lan Wangji blinks himself out of it. He meets a lot of handsome men on a daily basis; why his mind decides to zone in on this particular one is beyond him. 

Not now, he tells himself. There is plenty of time to look at him once this matter is resolved.

A hiccup and a wail drag his eyes to the small head peering at him. It’s only now that Lan Wangji realises that Wei Wuxian is carrying his son on his arm. The boy is older than he had expected; he must be around three or four years old, more or less as old as Lan Wangji was when he received the music box.

Right. Lan Wangji came with a mission. He clears his throat.

“Good evening,” he says, keeping his voice calm and steady so as not to irritate the child. “I live in 3 14 b, and…”

Wei Wuxian lets out a sigh and closes his eyes, as if in pain. 

“I am so sorry,” he says. “I knew A-Yuan would be having trouble adjusting to his new surroundings, but I was hoping he would adjust more quickly, with me being home all the time. I promise I am doing everything to -”

“I know,” Lan Wangji interrupts him. He hates interrupting people, but he feels like he will never get to speak if he doesn’t.

Wei Wuxian blinks at him. “You…know?”

Lan Wangji nods. “I am not here to scold you.”

“You…are not?” Wei Wuxian asks, clearly confused. On his arm, A-Yuan lets out a shriek and hides his face in the crook of Wei Wuxian’s neck.

“Shhhh, Baobao, it’s okay,” Wei Wuxian tells him. He’s rocking the child and rubbing small circles onto the boy’s back. “The nice gege is not angry at you.”

It’s Lan Wangji’s time to blink.

“Am I frightening him?” he asks, alarmed. He has not considered this possibility.

Wei Wuxian sighs again, shakes his head, and opens the door wider with his foot.

“Come in,” he offers. “I’ll make us tea, and then I’ll explain.”

Wei Wuxian’s flat is messy in a way that shows that it’s not fully unpacked yet. Lan Wangji doesn’t pay it any mind. It must be difficult to get a flat sorted out with a small child in tow.

Wei Wuxian gestures at the sofa. “Please take a seat, I’ll be back in a minute.”

A-Yuan’s crying accompanies them the whole time, even after the tea has been steeped and served. All along, Wei Wuxian tries to soothe his child, to take his mind off things, and to make him smile. 

Nothing’s working.

Finally, Wei Wuxian sits down on the couch next to Lan Wangji, A-Yuan still in his arms.

“A-Yuan is usually a pretty cheerful kid, all things considered,” Wei Wuxian explains. “He likes to learn, likes to play. But he also…”

Lan Wangji shakes his head. “Let me try something first if you’ll allow it.”

Wei Wuxian looks at him curiously but nods.

Carefully, Lan Wangji reaches where he has put the music box on the couch next to him, winds it up, and places it on the coffee table before him.

Wei Wuxian’s eyes go wide before gently rocking A-Yuan to get his attention.

“Look, Baobao,” he says, his voice gentle. “Isn’t it pretty?”

A-Yuan turns to look at the unfamiliar melody and quiets down abruptly. He observes the music box as it slowly spins.

“Bunnies,” he says in a tiny voice and points a chubby finger at the carousel.

Wei Wuxian breaks out into a blinding smile. “Yes, Baobao, those are bunnies! Do you like them?”

A-Yuan doesn’t reply, he just keeps on staring at the music box. Every time the melody quiets down, he emits another quiet whimper. Every time, Lan Wangji winds it up again, and A-Yuan grows quiet, clearly mesmerised by the box.

Soon enough, the boy yawns then falls asleep as the music box still plays on. Wei Wuxian stares at his sleeping son, clearly at a loss for words, then at the box, before his eyes travel back to Lan Wangji.

“You’re magical,” he mouths as he stands up to carry A-Yuan into his bedroom. Lan Wangji takes the music box and follows him, but hovers at the door. He observes as Wei Wuxian tucks in the little boy, smooths out the covers, and places a kiss on his son’s hair. 

As Wei Wuxian rises and turns towards the door, Lan Wangji holds out the music box to him.

“Keep it, at least for the night,” he says, “in case he wakes up again. You can give it back to me in the morning.”

Lan Wangji cannot even tell why he is offering up his precious music box so freely. Maybe it’s the thought of going to bed in a less frazzled state; maybe a part of him remembers how soothing the little toy was to him.

Wei Wuxian looks as if he wants to refuse but then seems to think better of it.

“Thank you,” he says. “I will keep it safe, I promise.”

Lan Wangji nods, then follows him back into the living room. Wei Wuxian grimaces at their mugs containing their now cool tea. Before Lan Wangji can say anything, he takes them, brings them to the kitchen, and brews a new batch.

Once they are settled back on the couch, Wei Wuxian sighs deeply, as if he’s able to breathe for the first time in a while.

“Thank you,” he says. “I knew the move would be difficult, but I had not anticipated him reacting this badly.”

“It’s alright,” Lan Wangji tells him. “I don’t have children of my own, but I know that change can be difficult for them.”

Wei Wuxian nods. “How did you know your music box was going to work?”

“I didn’t,” Lan Wangji admits, “but I did have a hard time falling asleep and quieting down when I was about A-Yuan’s age, due to some…tension, at home. My mother bought this music box on a whim because she knew I liked rabbits, and it worked very well for me. I thought it was worth giving it a try.”

“I swear A-Yuan is usually a lovely and cheerful kid,” Wei Wuxian tells him. “We had to move because our former flat was becoming too small. His therapist told me that this could happen.”

“A-Yuan has a therapist?”

“He does,” Wei Wuxian explains. “I adopted A-Yuan about a year ago. According to the adoption agency, his parents died not long after he was born. His grandmother took care of him, and the neighbours found him sick and starving next to the deceased old lady. He does have relatives - we’re friends, actually, but they were living too far away from the old lady to check on her daily, and apparently she did still pick up the phone and talk to them the night before she passed. Their current living situation does not allow for a child, so he went into the system. He was with a few families already. Many of them did not fare well with him being so anxious about change, so they gave him up again.”

Lan Wangji hums. “And now he’s with you?”

“Yes!” Wei Wuxian says. “I saw him a few times when he was with my friends, and - well. I have the money and the time - and now, the space - to raise him. I just knew we were going to be a good match. I was in the system myself; I was not ready to send him back. The therapist was his cousin’s idea. They specialise in art therapy with small kids. His usual therapist is on maternity leave right now. He’s already on edge because he doesn’t know her replacement that well, so the nights are extra difficult. I’m being told that he’s going to be fine, but it might take a while. I am sorry.”

Lan Wangji shakes his head. “Don’t apologise. It is good to see that you’re taking such good care of him. This is a scary situation for him, but I could see from how he turns to you for comfort that he feels safe with you.”

“I know, but right now, I feel like I’m failing,” Wei Wuxian admits. “You should see him when he’s happy! His smile and laughter make it all worth it. I just…I guess I was at my wits’ end. If you had not stepped in…”

“It’s fine, really, “Lan Wangji says. “It is customary in my family to bring new neighbours a welcome gift. I was going to wait until you have settled, but I guess your son decided otherwise.”

Wei Wuxian laughs at that, small and softly. Lan Wangji likes it. He thinks he prefers Wei Wuxian’s smiling face to his sorrowful one.

“I regularly practice the piano,” Lan Wangji tells him, “I hope I won’t annoy you with it. The tenants on this floor are used to musicians living here; the family in 3 14 e all play the guitar.”

Wei Wuxian beams at him. “Really? I play the dizi! Well, you probably already know that, you might have heard me. A-Yuan really likes music, so that should be fine. Don’t be alarmed though if he ever asks to watch you play, he's fascinated with every new instrument he encounters.”

“You are welcome to visit anytime, as long as you both feel safe,” Lan Wangji says and is surprised by how much he means it.

Wei Wuxian laughs. “We might take you up on that offer. Either you’ll get annoyed with us real quick, or you won’t get rid of us anymore at all!”

“I am looking forward to finding out which one it will be,” he tells Wei Wuxian before stifling a yawn.

“You should get back home,” Wei Wuxian says, “I will make sure the music box will be in your hands again by tomorrow morning - I’m sorry, what was your name again?”

Lan Wangji mentally shakes himself. How rude of him; he should have introduced himself a while ago.

“Lan Wangji,” he tells him. “I usually get up very early but I don’t need to be at work before nine, so you have time.”

“I like to sleep in, but a certain someone in this house likes to wake up relatively early too, so I should be able to bring back the music box by eight.”

“Take your time,” Lan Wangji says as he finishes his tea. “I should get going.”

Wei Wuxian rises with him and walks him to his front door.

“Thank you again,” he says softly. “You really helped us out tonight.”

“It is no bother,” Lan Wangji replies. “Sleep well.”

“You too.”

Lan Wangji then returns to his own flat. His rabbits eye him curiously from the safety of their hutch, the door still open so they can roam around freely for a bit longer. He pours himself a glass of water, takes his book, and sits down to read.

It’s…quiet. Peaceful. Lan Wangji smiles to himself. 

He does hear a small wail about an hour before midnight, followed by the soft tinkling of his music box. The last thing he hears before A-Yuan quiets down again is the boy’s soft giggling.

 

***

 

True to Wei Wuxian’s words, there is a knock on Lan Wangji’s door only five minutes after eight a.m.

Wei Wuxian doesn’t look exactly awake, and yet he looks much more well-rested than he did the previous evening. They exchange pleasantries but nothing more, since Lan Wangji has to leave soon to go to work, but the interaction is still a pleasant one, with the promise of speaking more and getting to know each other better once they both have more time.

Lan Wangji finds he’s looking forward to it. He hasn’t seen much of Wei Wuxian and his son yet, but the man seems far more upbeat and energetic this morning, despite his drowsiness. While Lan Wangji likes his peace and quiet, he can’t help but be intrigued by his new neighbour and his young son. He has yet to see the cheerful sunny side of the child, but he can already picture it in his mind.

He checks his calendar to see when he’s free so he can actually spend a bit more time with Wei Wuxian so they can properly get to know each other. He decides he’ll go over one of these days to double-check if Wei Wuxian has time as well.

A-Yuan decides Lan Wangji needs to come to visit them this very evening, for he cries his little heart out around his bedtime, and Lan Wangji’s own heart breaks. He doesn’t even think twice before taking the music box and making his way to Wei Wuxian’s flat.

Wei Wuxian opens his door and stares at Lan Wangji quizzically. Lan Wangji wordlessly holds up the music box, and Wei Wuxian lets him in, a small grateful huff on his lips. 

Just as the previous night, the music box manages to calm A-Yuan down enough for him to go to sleep. Just as the previous night, Wei Wuxian makes them tea and they talk for a bit before Lan Wangji retires back to his own flat.

The whole thing gets a repeat the following night, and the night after that.

On the fifth night, Lan Wangji tells Wei Wuxian to keep the music box.

“You may borrow it,” he says. “If I need it I’ll know where to find it. We both need rest, your son needs rest, and this is easier than me bringing it over every night, and you returning it in the morning.”

Wei Wuxian hums. He wears a smile on his face, yet there seems to be a bit of wistfulness in his eyes. Lan Wangji isn’t sure if he’s reading them correctly, he just knows that he doesn’t like it.

“Yeah, I get it,” Wei Wuxian says. “I bet you’re looking forward to spending your evenings in a way that doesn’t involve bringing toys to get your neighbour’s screaming kid to shut up.”

“That's not what I meant,” Lan Wangji clarifies. “I really just think this is more convenient. In fact, I thought we could maybe meet one of these days for coffee or tea. I think it would be nice to get to know each other in less…dire circumstances.”

Wei Wuxian looks at him, and finally, his smile extends to his eyes.

“I work from home, and I am planning to do so until A-Yuan is old enough to go to playschool, so…if I reschedule I could have time whenever I want to if we’re meeting up here. If you’d like to go out for coffee I might have to ask my sister if she could take A-Yuan for a few hours. Unless you won’t mind me bringing him along?”

“I don’t mind,” Lan Wangji says, “but I thought it would be easier if I was to come over to you first until A-Yuan gets used to me. Maybe then, you could visit me for a change. I think he might enjoy meeting my rabbits.”

“You have rabbits?” Wei Wuxian asks, delighted.

“Mn. A pair, Tofu and Peanut Bunner.”

Wei Wuxian stares at him for a solid minute, then erupts into laughter.

Something in Lan Wangji’s stomach settles.

Tofu and Peanut Bunner? Lan Wangji, are you serious? Those are the best names ever!” Wei Wuxian all but wheezes.

Lan Wangji nods, takes out his phone, and shows him his lock screen, on which both of his rabbits primly sit on his couch.

Wei Wuxian emits a tiny gasp. “Oh they’re adorable! A-Yuan’s gonna love them! He’s very good with animals, you know? He even gets on well with my brother’s dogs, and I hate dogs. Well, actually no, I don’t hate them, they just scare the living daylights out of me. Had an unpleasant encounter with one when I was a kid. Since then, dogs and I aren’t friends anymore.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” Lan Wangji says. “When I was seven years old, a sizable parrot at the zoo tried to nibble on my finger. Since then, I have been very wary of large birds.” 

Wei Wuxian giggles. “Parrots are cool, but they can be real assholes if they want to. When it comes to birds, I prefer crows. They’re so smart and sassy!”

“Like you,” Lan Wangji says without thinking. Before he can blush, Wei Wuxian laughs again.

“Yup! I can even strut like one!”

The evening draws to a close far too quickly. For some reason, Lan Wangj finds it hard to leave Wei Wuxian’s flat this time.

The feeling appears to be mutual, for Wei Wuxian says: “I actually liked having you over every evening these past few days. I don’t know many people around here yet, and I didn’t really have time to go out, unpacking and whatnot. It was less lonely. I’m quite sad it’s over.”

Lan Wangji considers this.

“I enjoyed your company as well,” he replies, surprised by his own words. “We can still see each other in the evening if you would like to continue the tradition. I am visiting my brother tomorrow, so I will be arriving home late, but after that…”

“Come have dinner with us, then,” Wei Wuxian offers. “I would gladly cook for you - don’t look at me like that, Lan Wangji, I know you want to say that it’s not necessary, and I will tell you that I don’t care. Please let me do this.”

Lan Wangji huffs, but nods. “Alright, then.”

Wei Wuxian beams at him. “Great! Does six sound good? Oh, and also, do you have any dietary restrictions?”

“I don’t eat much meat, but poultry is fine. White fish and salmon, if fish is on the menu, and I don’t process seafood well. But you don’t need to make anything fancy; a simple stir fry would already be enough.”

“I think I can do that,” Wei Wuxian says. “It’s a date, then, Lan Wangji!”

Lan Wangji hesitates, but then his heart hijacks his brain, and he says: “Please call me Lan Zhan.”

Wei Wuxian blinks at him, then smiles brightly. 

“As you wish, Lan Zhan. Call me Wei Ying, then too, please.”

"Will do, Wei Ying. Sleep well.”

 

***



As expected, Lan Xichen suspects something’s up.

As expected, Lan Wangji doesn’t like it.

It’s not as if his brother would straight-up ask him if something happened, whether that be something good or bad, but Lan Xichen keeps giving him this one particular look, paired with that one particular smile that both say I know something in your life has changed, Wangji, and you’re perhaps confused but also happy about it, without actually saying a single word out loud.

“Don’t”, Lan Wangji warns as his brother finally opens his mouth to speak, and Lan Xichen raises his hands in defeat, still smiling.

“Be happy that Uncle isn’t as perceptive,” Lan Xichen says. “Whatever it is, you seem happy, and that makes me happy too.”

They’re in Lan Xichen’s kitchen, washing some salad. Lan Qiren and Nie Mingjue are busy setting the table. Lan Wangji can hear them chat casually about this or that article from today’s newspaper. It’s utterly domestic, and something in Lan Wangji’s heart, something he wasn’t even aware existed, yearns.

“A new neighbour moved into the flat adjacent to mine,” Lan Wangji admits. “A young father. His son is having trouble adjusting to his new living situation. He cries a lot, so I tried playing Mama’s music box for him.”

Lan Xichen’s expression changes to something soft but coloured with a tinge of worry.

“And?”

“It works,” Lan Wangji tells him. “The boy seems to be fascinated by the bunnies, and it makes it easier for him to sleep.”

Lan Xichen nods. “That’s good. I remember how well it worked for you. I always wondered what exactly it was about this music box that made you calm down that quickly. It’s the most generic of melodies, and while the rabbits are cute, they aren’t that special either.”

Lan Wangji hums. “I am not sure. Maybe it’s a combination of the way in which the carousel rotates and the repetition of the melody. Maybe it would have worked with any music box.”

“It seems like such a fortunate coincidence that Mama managed to find one with rabbits for the bunny aficionado in the family,” Lan Xichen teases, which earns him a heatless shove from Lan Wangji. “What about the child’s father? Do you get on well? I think it’s important to have a good relationship with one’s direct neighbours.”

“He is nice,” Lan Wangji agrees. “A bit chaotic, as far as I can tell, but so far I’ve only spoken to him in the evenings when he was trying to put his son to bed, or in the mornings when he brought the box back to me. I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen him in a state where he was fully awake, so he might be even more chaotic than he seems. From what I could see so far, he is a very loving and dedicated father.”

“That’s good to hear, “Lan Xichen says. “Are you planning on getting to know him better?”

Lan Wangji nods. “He thinks his son will feel more at ease with me and the new house when he sees my rabbits, since the boy likes them so much, but we want to get him accustomed to me a bit more before I invite them over to my flat. We’ll be having dinner tomorrow evening.”

Lan Xichen says nothing, only smiles that one particular quiet smile and directs its full force to the radishes he is cutting.

Lan Wangji sighs. “Brother…”

“I know I know,” Lan Xichen says, “no meddling. But Wangji - I know you like children, and it’s nice if you’re making friends.”

“I have friends.”

“You do?”

Lan Wangji rolls his eyes. “Do you really think Mianmian, her husband and I meet up once every week only to talk work stuff? And you know how much Jenny loves to drag me to karaoke night once in a while; we talk a lot outside of work and karaoke too, she’s very dear to me.”

“But those are your work colleagues.”

“Nie Huaisang exists.”

“He’s about to be your brother-in-law?”

“Are you telling me that means I cannot develop a friendly relationship with him?”

Lan Xichen sets down his knife. “I just worry about you.”

“I know,” Lan Wangji says. “I may not have as many friends as you and Nie Mingjue, but I am happy. I don’t need a large social circle. You don’t need to worry.”

Lan Xichen nods, but before he can reply, the timer for the oven goes off, and they hurry to finish preparing their salad before sitting down for dinner. 

They don’t talk about it anymore, and Lan Wangji doesn’t think about it anymore until he’s back in his flat and he hears the soft tinkling of his music box through the wall. He doesn’t know what tomorrow’s dinner will bring, but he finds that he’s looking forward to it.

 

***

 

The next day does bring a vegetable stir fry, as expected, but it also brings a fruit salad, some assorted beverages, and a father-son duo that seems much more alert than usual. Lan Wangji suspects that it’s due to him being over not as close to A-Yuan’s bedtime as he would usually visit, but it’s a joy to see the boy peacefully playing and colouring with crayons. He still doesn’t talk to Lan Wangji, but he gives him a toothy grin and a wave upon seeing him, and Lan Wangji counts it as a win.

Wei Wuxian has always struck him as talkative, but now that the man is fully awake, he never seems to shut up. He gives Lan Wangji a tour of the flat, pointing out that he has only seen the living room and A-Yuan’s bedroom, despite his own and Wei Wuxian’s flat sharing the same floor plan. Wei Wuxian tells him, by pointing at photographs hanging on the walls, that he has two siblings, an older sister, and a younger brother, that he was adopted into their family when he was about eight years old, and that no one can cook as well as his sister does.

“She would get on well with my brother, then,” Lan Wangji tells him. “He’s not a chef, but he likes to cook for his fiancé. He finds it therapeutic, and I have yet to try a dish he has cooked that I don’t like.”

“We should introduce them to each other one of these days,” Wei Wuxian says. “Wouldn’t that be fun if our families would get on well? Think of all the things we can do together!”

Lan Wangji tries to think of Wei Wuxian’s family, tries to imagine his siblings how Wei Wuxian described them to him. He wonders if they’re as energetic as he is, and imagines all of them together on a picnic with his own brother and, most importantly, his uncle.

Lan Wangji loves his uncle, but he’s not sure whether to laugh or to cry at that mental image.

Still, the idea of spending more time with Wei Wuxian and his family is one that he finds very pleasant. He looks back at a family portrait on the wall - Wei Wuxian in the middle, A-Yuan on his lap; a woman he now knows to be Wei Wuxian’s sister next to him, a baby in her arms, and a man with a sour expression on Wei Wuxian’s other side. He assumes that this must be Wei Wuxian’s brother.

One day, maybe, he thinks, and finds himself looking forward to it.

A tug on one of his trouser legs pulls Lan Wangji out of his thoughts. A-Yuan stands there, looking up at him with big eyes.

“Bunny-gege,” he says and holds out his arms. “Up, please?”

Lan Wangji turns to look back at Wei Wuxian, who is holding his breath, a wide smile on his face. He nods at Lan Wangji, who bends down and takes the boy in his arms to lift him up.

“Hello, A-Yuan,” he says. “What can I do for you?”

“Baba says you have real bunnies,” A-Yuan mumbles while he plays with one of the buttons on Lan Wangji’s shirt.

“I do,” Lan Wangji confirms. “I can show you a few pictures of them after lunch.”

“Baba says if I am a good boy and always eat my veggies, I can ask you if I can visit them. Is that true?”

Lan Wangji turns once again to Wei Wuxian, who has the decency to look sheepish as he shuffles back into the kitchen. He gives him a small smile before he says: “Your Baba is right. We will see when we all have time, and when you’re ready you can come over and visit me and meet my bunnies.”

A-Yuan beams at him, and it warms Lan Wangji to the core, especially after seeing him in such distress the past few days. He carries the boy to the living room, where they sit down together on the couch.

“Have you been sleeping better?” Lan Wangji asks as A-Yuan takes one of the couch cushions and hugs it to his chest.

The boy nods. “Nights are scary, but they are less scary with your magic music.”

Lan Wangji nods. “You know, when I was your age, the nights were scary for me too. My Mama bought this music box for me to help me, and it really helped. You have to promise to keep the box safe and take good care of it so it will always chase away whatever scares you and your baba. Can you do that for me?”

A-Yuan nods. “Yes, Bunny-gege!”

“You can call me Zhan-gege, if you like.”

A-Yuan seems to think about it. “I like Bunny-gege better,” he declares, and Lan Wangji lets out a small fond huff that is mirrored by the boy’s bright giggling.

Not before long, dinner is ready, and the three of them sit at Wei Wuxian’s kitchen table, the room filled with the warm glow of the slowly setting sun. Wei Wuxian does most of the talking, Lan Wangji being content to listen, and so he learns about Wei Wuxian’s job as a social media specialist for a big brand pet store, about his youth in Yunmeng and the fun things he used to do with his siblings, about how he and A-Yuan lived first in Yiling, where Wei Wuxian was born, but relocated to Gusu to find a bigger place where they could grow as a family.

“I’ve always dreamed of owning a house one day, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian tells him after they’ve all finished eating. “Nothing too big or too fancy, just big enough to comfortably house a family and a few pets while still feeling cosy. You know, myself, my little radish, maybe a partner and, if fate allows it, the radish could sprout a sibling or two. I’d love to have a garden where I could grow my own things and my kids could play in and I could relax after a long day…that would be so fun!”

Lan Wangji hums. “My brother recently acquired a house with his fiancé. It’s a large property, a bit of a fixer-upper, but my future brother-in-law likes to tinker around the house and fix up things, so it’s perfect for them. I am sure they will turn it into a home that will suit them perfectly.”

“That sounds lovely,” Wei Wuxian says. “What about you? Would you like to own some property at some point?”

Slowly, Lan Wangji sets down his glass of water. “I technically already own some property,” he says. “My mother used to own a cottage with a garden. After she passed, it went into my uncle’s possession. It was always meant to be my brother’s and my house, but he and his fiancé were looking for something else, so now it is mine.”

He turns to look at the window. The sun is still setting, with summer about to fully set in, and so the crowns of the trees in the park flanking their apartment complex are bathed in gold. It’s a beautiful sight.

“I am unsure about what to do with it,” he tells Wei Wuxian. “I was thinking about selling it, but I can’t bring myself to do so. There are too many memories attached to it. While I visit frequently to keep it in good shape, it needs some repairs and maybe some updates, but…I also cannot bring myself to live there by myself. It was built for a family. The house needs a family. I’m not meant to live there alone.”

Wei Wuxian, while absent-mindedly running a finger around the rim of his own drinking glass, gives him a long look before he says:

“Who knows, Lan Zhan? Maybe you’ll meet someone, some day, with whom you’d want to start a family. It’s not too late.”

Lan Wangji looks back at Wei Wuxian, at his soft smile and twinkling eyes, at the small boy sitting next to him who seems to be busy looking at the flowers on his napkin, and says:

“Yes. Maybe.”

After dinner, A-Yuan busies himself with his colouring sheets while Wei Wuxian goes to do the dishes. Lan Wangji insists on helping, and after a lot of “Aiyah Lan Zhan”s, Wei Wuxian finally relents and hands him a towel so he can dry. A-Yuan babbles away, imagining stories including the animals and shapes he is colouring, and to his surprise, Lan Wangji finds he enjoys listening to the boy more than he thought he would.

“He is very imaginative,” he tells Wei Wuxian, who beams at him. 

“Isn’t he? I am sure he will become a great storyteller one day, no matter what his career path will be. He’s come such a long way already, I am so proud of him!”

“I can see that,” Lan Wangji confirms while towelling off the last of the dishes. “He seems to thrive under your guidance. You two make a wonderful little family.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Wei Wuxian tells him. “My sister sometimes pesters me about looking for a partner. She says it’ll be easier with another adult on board. It’s what she’s used to with her own husband and kiddo, and maybe she’s right, but…with A-Yuan in tow, I’m careful. It needs to be the right person, you know? A-Yuan needs to like them too, and they need to like A-Yuan as well, or else it won’t work. And right now I’m not getting out much, so I’m taking it slow.”

Lan Wangji considers this. “A wise choice. It wouldn’t be good to find a partner who doesn’t get on well with your child, especially if it’s meant to be long-term. Is having a partner something you are considering in the future?”

Wei Wuxian shrugs. “Maybe. A-Yuan knows that there’s the possibility of another woman or man living with us someday, if it all works out, but I don’t want to overwhelm him. You?”

“Hm?”

“Any partner on the horizon?”

Lan Wangji shakes his head. “Not at this point in time, no. One of my coworkers insists on dragging me from gay bar to gay bar in order to find me a special someone, but I’ve never been good at flirting in those kinds of settings. In fact. I don’t think I’ve ever been good at flirting at all.”

Wei Wuxian laughs at that. “I think you’re doing fine, Lan Zhan. I mean, look at you! You’re charming and funny and you’re handsome as hell; I don’t think you really need to know how to flirt.”

Lan Wangji puts his towel away.

“You…think I’m handsome?”

Wei Wuxian looks at him, eyes widening minutely. “I-I mean yes! You are! Don’t you own any mirrors?”

“I do,” Lan Wangji replies, “but it seems you don’t. Otherwise, you would know that you are just as handsome, if not more.”

“LAN ZHAAAN!” Wei Ying cries, “you liar! You just told me you didn’t know how to flirt?”

“I am not flirting, I am merely stating the truth.”

Lan Wangji knows exactly that he’s flirting. He doesn’t consider his flirting skills extraordinary, but he thinks it’s worth using them if it means he’s getting to see Wei Wuxian blush.

Wei Wuxian is about to open his mouth to reply when he’s interrupted by a wail. A-Yuan is rubbing his eyes with his fist, a crayon still tightly held in the other one.

“Oh no, I think my little radish is growing tired,” Wei Wuxian says and walks over to pick up his son. “Time for bed, sweetheart.”

A-Yuan, while still rubbing his eyes, shakes his head.

“Scary,” he admits but then fails to hold back a yawn.

“I know,” Wei Wuxian replies, all while running his hand soothingly across A-Yuan’s back. “Baba is here to protect you, there’s nothing to be scared of.”

“I don’t want to go to bed,” A-Yuan hiccups, his eyes filling with tears, one fat droplet running down his cheek. “What if I wake up and you’re gone? What if you’re not moving, like Popo did?”

Lan Wangji manages not to draw in a sharp breath. He remembers Wei Wuxian telling him about how they had found the boy next to his deceased grandmother, and while many things can trigger night terrors in children, suddenly A-Yuan’s bedtime cries make much more sense.

Slowly he steps forward until he’s standing next to Wei Wuxian, and runs a finger across A-Yuan’s cheek to catch one of his tears.

“Don’t worry,” he tells him. “Your Baba will be right there when you wake up.”

A-Yuan sniffles, but looks unconvinced. “Promise? Popo said she would be there too when I wake up…”

“Promise. Because unlike your Popo, who did not have a neighbour or relative living close by at the time, there’s a certain Bunny-gege here who could come over and make sure everything is alright every morning.”

Wei Wuxian gives him a look. Lan Wangji thinks he looks like he’s straddling the line between hopeful and doubtful.

A-Yuan’s eyes get very round. “Really?”

Lan Wangji nods. “Really. And tonight, I will stay until you are asleep and make sure your Baba is well, and tomorrow morning I will come knock and make sure your Baba is okay. Alright?”

A.Yuan hesitates, but then nods. He still bursts into tears and is hard to calm down. He clings to his father’s arms, all while reaching out to Lan Wangji and holding on to his fingers. Wei Wuxian does his best to soothe the boy; he rocks him on his arm, kisses his chubby cheeks, and hums a lullaby, all while A-Yuan keeps on hiccuping and whimpering. He manages to bathe him and get him into his pyjamas while the boy is a bit calmer, but as soon as the teeth have been brushed, the tears start all over again.

Lan Wangji watches as A-Yuan keeps on reaching for Wei Wuxian every time he smoothes the covers around his son. He observes as Wei Wuxian tries to read to him, talks to him to reassure him, brings him his favourite stuffie - nothing.

Lan Wangji assumes that Wei Wuxian must be so distracted that he’s forgotten that the music box is right there on the dresser.

Lan Wangji takes it, winds it up, and sits down on A-Yuan’s bed, the box nestled between his hands on his lap.

A-Yuan is still crying, but as he watches the wooden bunnies spin around to the soft tinkling, he quiets down, and for a while he observes the carousel with awe and wonder on his features. Each time the music box spins more slowly, Lan Wangji winds it up again before it can stop entirely, and soon, A-Yuan’s eyelids start to droop for good.

It doesn’t take long for the boy to fall asleep, and even after that, Lan Wangji keeps on winding up the music box so that it plays on for a while longer.

“It’s as he’s hypnotised by the box,” Wei Wuxian whispers.

Lan Wangji hums. “I actually believe that something similar is happening. It’s not the box itself, but the combination of the repetitive melody and the monotonous movement of the box seem to have a soothing effect on children.”

Wei Wuxian chuckles. “The fact that it’s bunnies makes it even better, It actually soothes me too, you know?”

“Oh?”

“Yes,” Wei Wuxian confirms. “I was wondering why it sounded so familiar to me. Yesterday evening it clicked. I don’t remember much of my parents, I was still really young, but I know that I had a music box as well. I don’t recall what it looked like, but I’m certain it played the same melody.”

Lan Wangji inclines his head. “It’s entirely possible. Once you enter a toy store you hear this melody about thirty times. It’s one of the most popular tunes for music boxes out there. I am glad it is able to soothe you as well. I can see how tired you are.”

“Way to make a man feel self-conscious,” Wei Wuxian jokes as he gets up to leave the room. “Tea?”

Lan Wangji nods before winding up the music box one last time and setting it next to A-Yuan’s night light on his dresser.

They take their first sips of tea in silence. Lan Wangji can tell that there’s something on Wei Wuxian’s mind, but he doesn’t pry.

Wei Wuxian fidgets with his teacup before he sets it down and says: “Say, Lan Zhan…did you mean it? What you said earlier…about checking up on me so A-Yuan can be sure I’m okay?”

“Mn. You usually wake up about the time I leave the house. It is no trouble for me to stop by and knock and say good morning, if it helps A-Yuan feel at ease.”

Wei Wuxian sighs. “I was beginning to regret moving here. He was so good before his therapist went on maternity leave. Maybe I should have waited until she’s back.”

“Living in a space that’s too small and crammed to flourish isn’t the most beneficial thing for a child either,” Lan Wangji points out.

“Yes, but -”

“Wei Ying.”

Before Lan Wangji can think about what he’s doing, he reaches out and takes Wei Wuxian’s hand in his own.

“Not every bad thing that is happening is your fault. Trauma is not linear, and sometimes there are setbacks. It’s something I’ve had to learn myself over the years. You are doing your very best, and A-Yuan adores you. I can see how much you love each other. That’s the most important. Everything else will come with work, yes, but it will also come with time.”

Wei Wuxian blinks at him, his eyes glossy. “Aiyah Lan Zhan, you are going to make me cry! It’s just - A-Yuan is lovely, but many people hear about his insecurities, and about how we sometimes struggle, and - I guess they get overwhelmed. Eventually it gets too much for them, and then they’re gone. His cousins are there, we videochat frequently and they stop by whenever they can, but…oh, I don’t even know. It gets lonely sometimes. I don’t want you to believe that it’s A-Yuan’s fault, because it is not! I wouldn’t trade him for anyone else, but sometimes I miss having company. The party animal in me wants fun friends, and I do have some, but…sometimes I simply want companionship. Someone to share my life with. Someone to just share moments with, you know?”

Lan Wangji considers this, then nods. “I think I understand, yes.”

“You are the first person I’ve met who seems to genuinely care about A-Yuan. He really likes you, it’s amazing to watch you with him. He keeps on asking me what I think you’re doing at any given time of the day.”

“Then you should stop by one of these days, so he can see for himself.”

Wei Wuxian smiles at him. “Deal! But also, Lan Zhan…I know you are busy, and I can only imagine that you’d like to just have your peace and quiet after you get home from work in the evening. So…maybe…if you’re coming over to check up on me in the morning, we could potentially have breakfast together sometimes?”

“I’m not sure you would be ready to get up even earlier just to see me,” Lan Wangji tells him, and Wei Wuxian laughs. “But you said your sister would be ready to watch A-Yuan sometimes? One of my coworkers likes to drag me along to karaoke nights, and I figured you might want to come along?”

Wei Wuxian gapes at him. “Karaoke? You?”

Lan Wangji gives him a look. “Are you trying to tell me you’re doubting my ability to sing bad on purpose?”

Wei Wuxian laughs again. “No, but I’d pay cold hard cash to see that happen in real time!”

“I’ll ask if I can bring you along, then.”

“I’d love that!”

 

***

 

Later, when Lan Wangji is back in his own flat, he leans against his front door while he toes off his shoes. He recalls the events of the evening, remembers how Wei Wuxian spoke of companionship, how his laughter tugged at something deep within his own heart. He thinks of A-Yuan, and how his first request was for Lan Wangji to lift him into his arms.

In the darkness of his flat, as the melody of his music box drifts through the wall separating his own living space from Wei Wuxian’s, Lan Wangji smiles.

 

***

 

As predicted, Wei Wuxian isn’t always awake enough to have breakfast when Lan Wangji comes knocking on his door in the morning, and Lan Wangji doesn’t have time to stay for long anyway, but A-Yuan is much more alert than his father after waking up, and seeing Lan Wangji next to his Baba when he first opens his eyes makes the little boy smile like the sun itself. It’s a sight that warms Lan Wangji’s heart. Soon the morning visits become a fixed part of his routine, as do the dinners on Saturday evening, and sometimes on Sundays when his brother or uncle call him over for brunch rather than for dinner.

It’s not long before the father-son-duo set foot into Lan Wangji’s flat for the first time. A-Yuan is enchanted by the piano. Just like Wei Wuxian has predicted, he eagerly observes how Lan Wangji’s fingers dance over the ebony and ivory, coaxing sweet tune after tune from the keys. His own chubby fingers hover over the piano but he doesn’t dare touch it until Lan Wangji permits it and Wei Wuxian gives him an encouraging nod. The boy bangs out a few mismatched notes and grimaces, but then Lan Wangji takes his fingers, gently guides them, and slowly and patiently shows him how to play a simple scale.

A-Yuan’s face lights up like a whole store full of Christmas trees. Lan Wangji finds that he wouldn’t mind seeing that small happy face every day.

As he helps A-Yuan slide down from the piano bench, he turns and takes a glance at Wei Wuxian, who is sitting on Lan Wangji’s couch observing them with a dreamy expression.

Lan Wangji finds that he wouldn’t mind seeing that face every day either.

He offers his guests tea, juice, and snacks, and lets A-Yuan rest a bit before showing him the rabbits. Tofu and Peanut Bunner don’t mind the piano playing, but they still prefer to retreat to their hutch whenever Lan Wangji plays. Now that the instrument is silent, the bunnies emerge from the hutch, curiously sniffing their surroundings.

A-Yuan gasps as one of them hops over to Lan Wangji’s feet and rises to its hind legs to beg for treats.

“This is Tofu,” Lan Wangji explains. “He is very curious and friendly. You can feed him a treat if you are careful enough. I will show you how to do it. Peanut Bunner needs a bit longer to make new friends, but she will come and say hello to you eventually.”

A-Yuan holds out his hand, and Lan Wangji teaches him how to feed it to the bunny. He huffs a small laugh as Wei Wuxian also holds out his hands, his eyes round and pleading.

“Please, Lan Zhan? I didn’t get to feed a bunny since I was a kid myself.”

So Lan Wangji dispenses even more treats and, later, when both rabbits get used to their visitors, watches as Wei Wuxian and A-Yuan sit happily on his couch, each of them with a bunny on their lap.

If he can feel the corners of his own mouth lift up just a smidge and his heart beat just a little bit faster at the sight? That is his secret to keep.

After that, Wei Wuxian and A-Yuan often stay for dinner at Lan Wangji’s flat before he comes over to their flat where both men tuck in the child together and have a last tea for the evening. A-Yuan slowly but surely gets used to the new environment. He still cries at night before bedtime, but the tears stop flowing more easily from day to day - not only thanks to Lan Wangji’s music box, but also because Wei Wuxian seems more relaxed and reflects that on his son.

“It’s all because of you,” Wei Wuxian tells him. “I told you you’re magical.”

“Not as magical as you are,” Lan Wangji replies, and means it.

Jiang Yanli joins them for dinner one evening, her own baby in tow. Her husband is on an important business trip and she’s bored home alone, so she lets Wei Wuxian know that she’s ready to watch A-Yuan and stay over at his flat whenever he wishes to go out.

“Don’t look at me like that, A-Xian,” she says with a tone that’s more amused than annoyed. “Zixuan really does take good care of me, and he’s trying to be at home as often as he can, but some business trips cannot be avoided. And I love my little nephew, why wouldn’t I want to spend time with him?”

“Baba, you have to show Yanli-gugu Bunny-gege’s music box,” A-Yuan pipes up.

Jiang Yanli raises an eyebrow. “Bunny-gege…?”

“Lan Zhan owns a pair of rabbits, and A-Yuan is obsessed with them,” Wei Wuxian explains. “When we first moved in, A-Yuan had trouble falling asleep, so Lan Zhan came over with his childhood music box because it helped him fall asleep more easily when he was a kid. He was kind enough to let us borrow it for the time being. If A-Yuan gets scared, play it, and it will help him to calm down.”

Jiang Yanli looks at Lan Wangji, a soft expression on her face. “That is so kind of you, thank you.”

“There is no need for thanks,” Lan Wangji tells her with an incline of his head. “I recall how it was to be scared at night as a small child, albeit for different reasons. I don’t wish that on any child. I’d gladly be of assistance if I can.”

Jin Ling starts fussing on Jiang Yanli’s arm. “A-Xian, could you please bring me the small nursing blanket that’s in his diaper bag? It’s in the hallway.”

“On it,” Wei Wuxian says and disappears from the room.

“Someone’s getting hungry,” she explains while rocking the baby. “It’s nice to know that A-Xian has found someone he can trust with his son…and with himself.”

Lan Wangji gives her a questioning look. She smiles back at him.

“I adore both of my brothers. They’re both lovely idiots in their own way. A-Xian, in particular, would go through hell and back for the people he cares about, but sometimes he forgets to take care of himself in the process. He knows how clever and talented and charming he is, but sometimes I wonder if he believes that good things simply aren’t for him.”

Lan Wangji hums. “I’ve noticed that a few times, actually. I disagree.”

“So do I,” Jiang Yanli tells him. “My parents, especially my mother…let’s just say that she wasn’t a good parent to either of us, but I always felt like A-Xian took the brunt of it, whether he deserved it or not. He deserves good things and good people in his life. He deserves to be who he is, and be loved for it, unconditionally. I am glad he has found you, no matter what the future will bring.”

Lan Wangji is silent for a while, takes a sip of his tea, then asks: “...did you just give me a very gentle shovel talk?”

Jiang Yanli huffs. “A shovel talk is an outdated patriarchal practice that I personally find disgusting and unnecessary, but…if you want to put it that way? Maybe. Any more questions?”

“Yes, actually. Why is it taking Wei Ying so long to find that blanket?”

“Because he’s looking for it in the hallway. The diaper bag is in the living room. I just wanted some time to talk with you alone, that’s all.”

It’s Lan Wangji’s turn to huff, and before he can say anything, Wei Wuxian’s voice comes from the hallway: “Jiejieeeee, I can’t find it! Are you sure it’s in the hallway?”

Jiang Yanli fixes Lan Wangji with an all-knowing gaze as she yells back. “Did I say hallway? Oh sorry A-Xian, I meant the living room!”

Jin Ling emits a shriek, and Wei Wuxian yells “Yes yes, I’m coming!” before storming off into the living room.

A-Yuan, who up until now has been busy colouring, looks up and goes “He is loud! He can be a police siren when he grows up!”, which prompts a laugh out of both his mother and Lan Wangji.

Jiang Yanli returns to Wei Wuxian’s flat the following Friday evening, bringing her own son and an overnight bag. They promise to videocall when it’s time for A-Yuan’s bedtime so he can say goodnight to both of them, and soon they are off to the restaurant, where they meet up with Lan Wangji’s coworkers Mianmian and Jenny, as well as Nie Huaisang. 

Lan Wangji has hoped that Wei Wuxian would fit right into their little group. It doesn’t take long for it to look like he’s always been a part of it. Wei Wuxian gets on swimmingly with almost everyone. Conversation comes easy to him, and he’s able to charm a laugh out of everyone with his wit. 

A-Yuan is a bit weepy on the phone, but he bravely says goodnight to them, and Lan Wangji promises him to bring his Baba back home safely.

After dinner, Lan Wangji gets to show Wei Wuxian just how badly he can sing on purpose. Wei Wuxian is absolutely in his element, singing just as badly, also on purpose. Their whole group is in stitches, and contact information is quickly exchanged between Wei Wuxian and all of the others. It fills Lan Wangji with a strange sense of pride and happiness to know that his friends like Wei Wuxian, that they so readily accept them as a new member of their Disaster Troup, as Nie Huaisang likes to call them. Wei Wuxian preens with the title, clearly in his element within such a bustling social circle, but soon Lan Wangji can feel his own social battery depleting.

Mianmian, as always, is the first to catch on, offering Jenny a ride home. Nie Huaisang graciously offers to accompany them, stating that he knows a cocktail bar that he wishes to show them, and that maybe Wei Wuxian could go with them next time? 

Lan Wangji is a bit anxious to see how Wei Wuxian will react. He looks at Jenny, then at Mianmian, then at Nie Huaisang, then takes one look at Lan Wangji and says: “Of course! I can’t come home too late anyway or A-Yuan will get anxious. I’m sure he’d love to tuck Lan Zhan in!”

This earns him a laugh from the group. It’s months until then, but Wei Wuxian enthusiastically invites them all to his birthday party, stating that it would be one hell of a Halloween celebration.

They finally say their goodbyes for the day. Despite the pleasant atmosphere, Lan Wangji still finds himself a bit on edge.

“I am sorry,” he says after a beat as they slowly make their way back home through still lively streets, despite the hour.

“What for?” Wei Wuxian asks.

“You were having so much fun, and then I…”

Wei Wuxian dismisses him with a wave of his hand. “Oh come on, Lan Zhan, I have a kid! I am used to spontaneously flagging levels of energy. Besides, I’ve been kind of looking forward to this if I’m being honest.”

“Oh?”

“Mhhm. It’s the first time ever that we’re truly alone. I’m counting this as a date, you know?”

Lan Wangji can feel his ears getting hot. With the tiniest of smiles he extends the crook of his arm to Wei Wuxian.

“Well then. Let me walk you home, and buy you a late-night ice cream on the way. What do you say?”

Wei Wuxian beams at him and interlaces his own arm with Lan Wangji’s. “That sounds perfect!”

They walk like that, arm in arm, talking about everything and nothing. Some passersby shoot them a glance; Lan Wangji wonders if they mistake them for a couple. He finds that he doesn’t mind the thought of them being in a relationship.

It’s something that he has found himself wishing for as of late, especially on  nights where sleep eludes him. Awake in his bed, thinking about whether Wei Wuxian is still up too or already asleep. If they would make each other tea to wind down, or share the secret pint of double chocolate chip ice cream that Lan Wangji keeps hidden in his freezer for days that are just a bit too much, or nights on which he thinks he deserves a sneaky reward. He has seen Wei Wuxian tired in the morning, but he wonders what he’s like when he just woke up, his dark hair fanned across the pillow, eyes only half open yet already crinkling with a smile.

He wonders what it would be like to, maybe one day, hear A-Yuan call him something else than ‘Bunny-gege’. ‘A-Die’, maybe, ‘or ‘Ba’, or even ‘Diedie’. It’s something that only A-Yuan gets to decide, and he would never pressure the boy into accepting him as a father figure if he doesn’t want to…but he dreams.

Right now, he hears Wei Wuxian laugh next to him, sees that tiny speck of strawberry ice cream clinging to the corner of Wei Wuxian’s mouth, and dreams of leaning in to kiss it away.

He fishes out a tissue from his trouser pocket and gently wipes it away instead.

“Oh,” Wei Wuxian says, small and soft. He blushes, and Lan Wangji falls even more in love.

They take their time walking home. Lan Wangji is enjoying every second of it, and by the way Wei Wuxian is tracing idle patterns onto Lan Wangji’s arm and smiling, he believes he might be enjoying it too.

When they finally arrive in front of Wei Wuxian’s flat, both of them hesitate.

Wei Wuxian giggles. “I’m not entirely drunk, Lan Zhan, but I am not entirely sober either. I’m actually a little bit afraid I’ll wake Jiejie and A-Yuan up by tripping over something when I get in there.”

Lan Wangji raises an eyebrow. “The couch in my office folds out into a bed, and my living room sofa is very comfortable too.”

“I don’t have my pyjamas with me.”

“You could borrow some.”

“I don’t have my toothbrush.”

“I have spare ones.”

Wei Wuxian giggles again. “Lan Zhan, ah Lan Zhan, always prepared, eh? Say, how many pretty men that you meet at the gay bar do you graciously offer your couch to?”

“None,” Lan Wangji replies. “Only to you.”

“Only to me?” Wei Wuxian asks.

“Mn. And I didn’t even meet you at a gay bar.”

Wei Wuxian laughs but puts a hand across his mouth when he notices how loud he is.

“Alright, in all seriousness though your offer sounds reasonable, so I will peruse your couch, if you let me. And your toothbrush. And your pyjamas. Different ones than the ones you are wearing…wait. Do you even wear something to bed, or do you sleep in your birthday suit?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Lan Wangji replies, only to tease him, then opens the door to his flat and drags Wei Wuxian inside before he can wake up the whole floor for good.

Wei Wuxian is still giggling as he enters the flat but quiets down abruptly when he stumbles right into Lan Wangji’s chest. Lan Wangji hasn’t turned on the light; only the streetlights from outside illuminate the room with an eerie orange glow.

Wei Wuxian looks up to him with big shining eyes. He is so close that Lan Wangji can see every mole, every freckle, all the small imperfections that make him so perfect. 

Wei Wuxian reaches up and gently tucks a lock of Lan Wangji’s hair that has come loose from his long heavy braid back behind his ear. He doesn’t let his hand fall to his side again; instead, he places it onto Lan Wangji’s chest, right where his heart is.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers.

“So are you,” Lan Wangji replies.

“I really want to kiss you, Lan Zhan.”

“I want that too.”

“Why aren’t we kissing, then?”

Lan Wangji huffs, then takes Wei Wuxian’s hand and places a kiss to his fingers.

“As you so eloquently stated, you aren’t exactly drunk, but you aren’t sober either. If we do this…if that is something we both want, I wish for both of us to do this with a clear mind.”

Wei Wuxian pouts at him, and the sight is so adorable that Lan Wangji almost throws caution to the wind and kisses him anyway.

Almost.

“Lan Zhaaaaaaan,” he whines, “how dare you be sensible at this time of night? Ugh. I’d be disgusted if it wasn’t so goddamn attractive.”

Lan Wangji softly laughs. “Go have some water in the kitchen while I prepare the fold-out bed for you. You should also text your sister to let her know where you are.”

Wei Wuxian lets go of him and fishes his phone out of his pocket while he makes his way to Lan Wangji’s kitchen. Meanwhile Lan Wangji takes off his coat and shoes, gets the bed ready, selects a pair of the softest sleep clothes he owns, and lays out a towel, a washcloth, and a spare toothbrush for his impromptu guest.

Wei Wuxian yawns when he emerges from the kitchen. Lan Wangji lets him use the bathroom first, then shows him to his office.

“These are ridiculously soft, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian remarks while rubbing a hand over the fabric of his pyjama top. “Are those cartoon carrots?”

“A gift from my brother,” Lan Wangji says, as if that would explain anything. Still, Wei Wuxian nods.

“So…I guess it’s bedtime now, huh? Will you…will you come over tomorrow, to have breakfast with Jiejie and A-Yuan and me?”

“Yes,” he promises. Then, before he can talk himself out of it, he leans in and gently places a kiss onto Wei Wuxian’s cheek, only lingering a fraction longer than it would be deemed proper.

“Sleep well, Wei Ying. See you tomorrow.”

Wei Wuxian blinks, but then he smiles, leans in as well, and places a kiss that is just as gentle onto Lan Wangji’s cheek.

“See you tomorrow, Lan Zhan. Sweet dreams.”

 

***

 

They don’t talk about the previous night. Lan Wangji wishes to be respectful. Since Wei Wuxian was tipsy he wants to wait and see if he brings it up first or if this was just the alcohol talking out of him. But Wei Wuxian just chatters on, cheerful as usual, and Lan Wangji wonders if he has forgotten that they both confessed to wanting to kiss.

It’s silly. It could have been just physical attraction for Wei Wuxian, which is fine. It could have been the alcohol talking, which is also fine. Lan Wangji might be hopelessly in love, but that doesn’t mean that he’s ready to risk a wonderful friendship for something that might be one-sided, or just a spur-of-the-moment thing.

A-Yuan is still asleep when they enter Wei Wuxian’s flat, but Jiang Yanli is already up and has prepared breakfast for all of them. Since none of them has to work that morning they can take their time, even though Jiang Yanli cannot stay for very long. She stays long enough to kiss A-Yuan goodbye after he wakes up, then kisses both men on the forehead before leaving, her baby strapped to her chest.

A-Yuan is allowed to eat breakfast in his pyjamas. Lan Wangji has seen him after he just woke up but has never spent much time with him before when he was in such a state. He’s delighted to find out that the boy is very cuddly, which…is an interesting thing to be delighted about, he suddenly realises, especially as someone who always claims to not be that big into physical contact.

Maybe it depends on the type of physical contact, he muses, or on the right people.

He thinks that must be the case as A-Yuan climbs onto his lap and snuggles into his chest.

“What is this?!” Wei Wuxian cries in mock scandal. “My own son? My baby, whom I birthed from my own flesh and blood, forsaking me for the first pretty man he sees? I am heartbroken!”

A-Yuan giggles. “Silly Baba! Bunny-gege gives good cuddles!”

“Oh? Does he now?”

A-Yuan nods. “You should try them, Baba!”

Wei Wuxian spits his coffee back into his mug.

“A-and what about my cuddles?” he fumbles. “Aren’t they good enough anymore?”

“They are still good,” A-Yuan clarifies, “but different!”

“Hm,” Wei Wuxian sniffs. “I guess I will have to live with that reality.”

A-Yuan giggles again before snuggling right back into Lan Wangji’s arms. He’s still a bit sleepy when it’s time for him to get washed and dressed, so Wei Wuxian takes him and carries him into his bedroom and the bathroom.

They end up going to the park together, where they take turns pushing A-Yuan on the swing and count the mama ducks and the ducklings in the pond. They go back home and prepare a light lunch together. They coax A-Yuan into taking an afternoon nap.

It feels…right. As if they already are a family, as if they have always been one, and Lan Wangji aches with it so much that he wants to cry.

They wait until A-Yuan is asleep and then take the music box with them into the living room so they can quickly wind it up should the boy wake up anxious. Lan Wangji helps with putting away the dishes for the big washing up session they’ll have after dinner, goes over what they will need to make food later, then decides with Wei Wuxian that they will order in.

He pauses. Why is he doing this? He doesn’t even live here? This is not his flat. This is not even his life.

And Wei Wuxian is not his.

“I am sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t insert myself into your life so much.”

Wei Wuxian, who has just been scrolling on his phone to select a few takeout options, looks up at him with big eyes.

“What? I-I mean…you don’t want to stay for dinner?”

“I would love to stay for dinner, it’s just -”

“Was it something I said?” Wei Wuxian puts his phone away, gets up and starts pacing. Lan Wangji thinks he looks like he might explode if he tries to sit still. “If it’s because of yesterday then I’m sorry!”

“Wei Ying….”

“I say the dumbest shit when I am tipsy! I really didn’t mean to, I just -”

If Lan Wangji thinks people exaggerate when they say that some things seem to happen in slow motion, then he’s being proven wrong this very instant. Wei Wuxian, who is slowly but surely working himself into some kind of frenzy, bumps into the coffee table and jostles it enough for his coffee to spill out of his mug and the music box to topple over and fall to the ground, where it plays two beats of its melody before the top part pops right off the base.

They both hold their breath and listen, but the morning at the playground must have been really tiring for A-Yuan, for he thankfully doesn’t wake up.

Wei Wuxian’s eyes are as big as saucers as he stares at the two pieces of the music box on the ground.

“Oh no,” he whispers, “oh no. Oh shit.”

“It’s alright,” Lan Wangji tells him as he reaches for the box, and means it. “This has happened to me before. The top part of the carousel unscrews from the bottom part. None of the rabbits are broken, so we should be able to just screw it back into -”

Lan Wangji stops. He has actually never screwed the music box together himself again; it had always been his mother, his uncle, or his brother whenever it had come loose or had been unscrewed for cleaning purposes. This is the first time he sees the underside of the top part for himself.

Wei Wuxian audibly swallows. “Lan Zhan, what’s wrong? Did I break it?”

Lan Wangji shakes his head. “Didn’t you say you were born on Halloween?”

“Yeah?”

“Where did you grow up again?”

Wei Wuxian blinks at him. “Lan Zhan, I don’t understand, what -”

“Just answer the question, please.”

“Yiling. That’s where I lived with my parents until they died. When the Jiangs took me in I moved with them to Yunmeng. Lan Zhan, what is going on?”

Wordlessly, Lan Wangji hands Wei Wuxian the upper part of the music box and turns it so he can see the underside, the one part that is never visible when the box is screwed together.

The part where Lan Wangji just spotted a few handwritten words in pencil that read: 

“Yiling, October 31st. Happy birthday, A-Ying! Mama and Papa love you!”

Wei Wuxian reads it, then looks up at Lan Wangji, then looks back at the writing on the box.

“Is this some kind of elaborate joke, or…?”

Lan Wangji shakes his head. “I’ve never looked at the underside before. Whenever it unscrewed there was someone else putting it back together again, so I’ve never seen the writing before. I know my mother found it in a charity shop while she was on a trip to Yiling to visit friends.”

Wei Wuxian swallows again. His eyes are glazed over with unshed tears.

“I know that my parents used to call me A-Ying,” he says. “One of my last memories is hearing my mother say ‘A-Ying, it’s alright, we’ll be home soon’, and then everything fades to black. Uncle Jiang used to call me ‘A-Ying’ sometimes when I was still a kid, until Auntie Yu said I was too old for that.”

He sits down on the floor, cross-legged, the one half of the music box still in his hands. “I don’t know what happened to our things. I went into the care system after my parents died. Uncle Jiang says he had heard that they had passed, and there had been rumours that I had passed with them. Because he’s not a blood relative it took him a while to track me down and take me in. I assume that our stuff was sold or tossed away; I don’t think that anything went into storage, but..Lan Zhan, that is my birthday. It’s how my mama used to call me. It’s from Yiling. It plays the same melody, even though we’ve established that it’s one of the most common music box tunes out there. Do you think…?”

“Maybe,” Lan Wangji says. “I don’t think there’s a way to find out for sure, but I do believe those are way too many coincidences at once. I believe this might be your music box.”

They sit there, each of them one half of the music box in their hands, not knowing what to say for a long time, before Wei Wuxian leans over and puts his half in Lan Wangji’s lap.

“It’s yours,” he says. “I was still so small. I don’t really remember it besides the melody. You have a connection to it. It helped you through hard times. It reminds you of your mother.”

“It also reminds you of your mother,” Lan Wangji points out. “A-Yuan still needs it. You said yourself that it has a soothing effect on you as well. I think it’s time to give it back to its true owner.”

Wei Wuxian shakes his head. “I can’t accept that. It holds your heart.”

You hold my heart.”

The words are out before Lan Wangji can even try to swallow them down. He can feel the temperature rise in his ears.

Wei Wuxian has gone stock still. He is staring at Lan Wangji, eyes still shining, cheeks rosy, but says nothing.

Might as well get over with it, Lan Wangji thinks, and takes a deep breath.

“Yesterday, I…I didn’t mention it this morning because I was under the impression that you had forgotten what we had talked about,” he says, “and I was not sure whether this was something conjured up by alcohol, or by the heat of the moment, or maybe just me projecting my own feelings onto you. Because, Wei Ying - these past weeks I have come to realise that having breakfast with someone, arguing about who gets to do the dishes, discussing meal plans, tucking a child into bed…it’s something I was considering as a faint possibility in the future, but I never really gave it much thought. Until I met you and A-Yuan, and I realised that it is very much a life I’d love to live. And I would love to share it with you.”

Lan Wangji isn’t sure when he has talked that much at once for the last time but he knows he wouldn’t be able to repeat himself if he had to try again. He is so nervous that he feels slightly sick with it.

Wei Wuxian blinks, mouth hanging open. “Lan Zhan, what are you saying?”

“I am saying that…I found myself falling in love with you and your son since the day I got to know you. I am saying this with no strings attached. I do not want to lose our friendship, but I just had to be honest about it. If you do not feel the same, then -”

Wei Wuxian’s lips are on his own before Lan Wangji can register what’s happening to him. Judging by the soft thud he must have tossed his part of the music box onto the carpet before throwing himself into Lan Wangji’s arms. 

It takes a second before his brain catches up, but then Lan Wangji lets go of his own half of the music box, wraps his arms around Wei Wuxian’s slender frame, and deepens the kiss.

They kiss for a long time, only coming up for air when they absolutely have to. Wei Wuxian brings their foreheads together and softly laughs.

“You mean it, Lan Zhan?” he asks. “You really do? Because I thought I was the one pressuring you yesterday and you were only agreeing with me to get me to shut my mouth.”

“I do,” he replies. “One thing you have to know about me is that I never lie.”

“So…when you said that you’re in love with me…?”

“I meant it. I love you, Wei Ying.”

Wei Wuxian makes a series of incomprehensible but utterly adorable sounds while he buries his head in Lan Wangji’s neck.

“I love you too,” he mumbles after a while. “So much. I knew you were special when I saw how good you are with A-Yuan, how willing you are to accept us in our life just the way we are, but I was unsure whether we were just the best friends in the world, or more.”

Lan Wangji hums. “I’d like to think that we are both.”

Wei Wuxian nods. “Both sounds good. But you know that I am also careful because of A-Yuan. He adores you so much already, but I didn’t want to get his hopes up in case - well. In case I was just daydreaming too much.”

“A-Yuan is wonderful,” Lan Wangji tells him. “He is an amazing child. He struggles, yes, but that is no reason not to love him. I find it very easy to love him, actually.”

“That is good,” Wei Wuxian tells him, “because that little monster asked me the other day when we are going to move in together since we are spending so much time together already.”

Lan Wangji huffs out a laugh. “My lease is up in half a year, I believe.”

“Lan Zhan!”

“A-Yuan is not wrong. Our flats are big enough for small families. They have the same floor plan. It should be easy to join our households. I could either sell or donate or put into storage whatever I don’t need, and A-Yuan would not need to get used to a new place that quickly.”

Wei Wuxian sits up so he can look directly at Lan Wangji’s face. “And…what then? If this works out - and I’ll have you know that I want this to work out, Lan Zhan - where will we go then?”

Slowly, Lan Wangji takes Wei Wuxian’s hand and interlaces their fingers before lifting it to his mouth and placing a kiss to it.

“Would you maybe, one day, like to see Mother’s cottage?”

The smile that blooms on Wei Wuxian’s face is one of the most beautiful sights Lan Wangji has ever seen.

“I’d love to, Lan Zhan.”

 

***

 

Lan Wangji, Tofu, and Peanut Bunner do move in with Wei Wuxian and A-Yuan once Lan Wangji’s lease is up. A-Yuan is ecstatic about the now unlimited access to piano music, rabbits, and Bunny-gege cuddles. They take him along to see the cottage, and he likes it, but he is still wary about having to move again, so they promise to fix up the house and he can help make it pretty, but they will not move in before he is ready to do so.

 

When A-Yuan is six years old, he says that he is ready. He does so by asking Lan Wangji whether he’s going to marry his baba when Wei Wuxian is out of earshot.

Lan Wangji stares at him, but then says: “Is that something you would be okay with?”

A-Yuan nods, and Lan Wangji smiles. “Then I will ask him, because I would love for him to be my husband.”

“Will you become my Diedie then?” A-Yuan wishes to know.

“Not legally, as far as I know,” Lan Wangji replies. “I think I would have to adopt you for that to happen. I would have to talk to your father too about it, see what he says, but…is that something you would like?”

A-Yuan nods again. “Because you are already my Diedie in my heart, so I think you should also be my Diedie on paper.”

Lan Wangji doesn’t know what to reply to that, so he just blinks away the tears that are threatening to spill and hugs his soon close, pressing kisses to his hair.

“Can we go live in your mama’s house, then?” A-Yuan asks. “We need enough space if you marry Baba and I get a meimei or a didi.”

Lan Wangji lets out a startled laugh. “Would you like a meimei or a didi?”

A-Yuan blinks at him, confused. “Isn’t that how it works? You get married, and then you wait a bit and go to the hospital to get a baby?”

Lan Wangji blinks at him, not really knowing what to say, before telling him that, while he is technically not wrong, it’s also not that clear-cut of a procedure, and that he and his Baba will explain all of this to him when the time comes.

 

***

 

Lan Wangji proposes, Wei Wuxian accepts, and together they breathe new life into the old cottage. They paint the outside white but the windowsills and trims red and plant blue hydrangaeas and sunflowers in the garden. The music box stands in one of the downstairs bookcases next to a second, smaller one, featuring three rabbits joined by their paws, dancing in a circle: two large ones and a smaller one. It features the same wind-up mechanism as the old music box and plays a melody that Lan Wangji started composing not long after he met his husband and his son for the first time.

On warm days, when the windows to the cottage are open, the melody makes its way out to the garden, where the butterflies dance to it and the flowers sway to its tune.





Notes:

♥ Podfics Welcome! ♥

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It's-a me! Rima!

This fic...almost didn't get finished. Because I deleted it. On purpose.

See, a few weeks ago I interacted with another internet user and royally fucked up. It was not pretty, and I didn't behave at my best. Since then, we've talked and I apologised, but back then I was working on this. And because some things in my life kinda messed up my brain, this incident messed with me too, and yeah. I deleted the whole thing on a whim.

Thankfully, since that one time my computer crashed and didn't want to recognise my external hard drive anymore a few years ago, I got into the habit of sending art and writing WIPs via email to my partner, so she still had it, and I was able to redownload and work on it once I had calmed down a bit.

What I'm trying to say is: none of us is without fault. We're all human, and that makes us imperfect by definition. What is important is that we recognise when we're in the wrong and work on ourselves. At the time, it was partly me genuinely meaning no harm, and being too stupid to recognise I was doing more harm than was acceptable. But I've learned since, and I've tried not to beat myself up too much. Because I'm one of those people who will do that if they've messed up, even for years sometimes. It's something I have to unlearn in order to heal and move forward.

So I've been trying to wrap myself in soft things, metaphorically and physically, and I'd like to believe that this turned into a soft thing as well in which you can wrap yourselves if you need to. Be kind to others, always, but also be kind to yourselves.

I love you very much.

Until next time!

Rima ♥♥♥

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