Work Text:
He Xuan's stare is long, level, unblinking. He stares with his yellow, glass-like eyes, almost like those of a fish. His face doesn't show a trace of emotion, but Hua Cheng, who is standing across from him, is tense to the limit, using the last of his strength to hold up his mockingly carefree mask — as if he's simply made one of his silly, pointless jokes, and now he's waiting for a reaction, ready to affect a sigh and complain that He Xuan is such a bore for failing to react at all.
But he's afraid.
He Xuan is still staring at him without looking away, as if waiting for something. He's not scrutinising him, not recoiling from him, not screwing up his face in disgust. He only shifts his gaze from one eye to the other, and at last he asks:
"And?"
Hua Cheng flinches involuntarily. He instantly tries to hide it by appearing overly relaxed, and crosses his arms over his chest, regarding the other ghost with derision, discreetly clutching the eyepatch in his hand. The same one he pulled off his missing eye a couple minutes ago.
But He Xuan's gaze is just as indifferent.
"'And' what?" Hua Cheng gives a mocking smile, as though amused by this strange reaction to his own deformity, while desperately trying to tamp down his fear. "Aren't you disgusted? Don't you want to run away and never see me again? Or at least turn away?"
He Xuan slowly raises an eyebrow.
"Do you seriously think you can scare me with a missing eye?" He looks at Hua Cheng almost like he's looking at an idiot. "I've seen a hundred things much worse than this."
Hua Cheng stares at him silently in response. If they weren't both dead, this silence would be filled with the sound of a heartbeat. And then he bursts into laughter.
He still doesn't know how to react to this or what to say, but he's probably feeling somewhat relieved.
"Well, well, you've reassured me," Hua Cheng finally replies with clear derision. He's not certain whether this is true or false.
He Xuan is still gazing at him with resignation.
"Should I give you a goodnight kiss on the forehead, too?"
"Do it!" comes the response, and a satisfied-looking Hua Cheng watches as He Xuan draws nearer and really does kiss him, but not on the forehead — on the lips; they both have equally cold and pale lips. He gratefully embraces him. "You can tell me a bedtime story as well."
He Xuan buries his face in the crook of Hua Cheng's neck and closes his eyes.
"You'll manage without it. You're older, so telling bedtime stories is your prerogative."
Hua Cheng doesn't answer, but he smiles. Perhaps he wouldn't mind that.