Chapter One
He fell in love with the Slayer nominee.
This frightens him, scares the shit out of him, but he falls in love with Jue Viole Grace. It's soft and sudden and quick.
Maybe it's when he looks at Wangnan without judgement while he begged for help from a demon. Maybe it's when he made that first meal, excellent and unexpected. Maybe it's the way he'd left offerings for Nia and murmured something in remembrance.
Maybe it's in Hwaryun's knowing eye on his, when she brushes against Viole without dramatic flair, or in how often he averts his honest gaze.
He can't tell you what moment it was. But he can tell you it hasn't stopped. It's only gotten worse, in his soft good mornings and good nights, in the smell of apricots in his breath and peaches on his shampoo, in the quiet lithe movements through the building practicing disturbing nothing and no one. It's when peeking through his bangs the ghost of a smile, or a mild little tilt of his head.
He wants to kiss the taste off of Viole's tongue, to see him smile out right, for a light to sparkle in those dull, dull eyes.
Fervently, he wants to be the one to make that happen.
He knows it won't last. Nothing Wangnan treasures ever lasts long. Nia's just an unfriendly reminder to that. If he was smart, he'd probably be letting it go and moving on, leaving the pining to the flamethrower and the affection to Miseng, but he can't.
He can't, knowing the kind of person Viole is.
He can't, after seeing Viole just almost give up everything, his friends' lives, his own life, everything, for Miseng, a person who'd unwittingly tricked him into being by their side. He can't, he can't. That's not a monster, that's not an enemy. That's…
He swallows.
Viole'd slept for two days, apologized for worrying everyone, then slipped away with his master, who'd scolded him it sounded like. Returned with the guide, who murmured in his ear.
She was the only one who could get his face to change. It burns Wangnan like a fire. It burns worse than lava to see their casual closeness, even with it hidden by hair. How he'll delicately wind her hair up into something beautiful and show off the eyepatch, then thumb it gently and murmur something.
"It was a gift from you," she'd say to him, watching Wangnan without watching him. "I'm honored to bear it."
And Viole will huff a soft breath, fond and twisted and sad. "It's not a gift you deserved."
"Even with what I am."
"No worse than me."
You're brighter, Wangnan wants to tell him. Brighter than all of us, brighter than the sky you watch all of the time.
But he can't interrupt the moment in the dark of the home Viole is renting for them. He can't interrupt the quietness of the late night two of them, her examining his hands and saying sly things that Wangnan's sensitive ears barely catch, and Viole quiet beside her, occasionally responding.
It stings something in his heart.
Wangnan decides to let it cool now, and tell him tomorrow.
If he doesn't he'll roast from the inside.
After all, Viole's place isn't here. He belongs with people he won't talk about, who he is willing to give anything for, whose happiness he never speaks of. He needs to stop this thing in him before it explodes.
You need sleep dealing with Viole. He's a light sleeper and is often awake at odd hours. He's often found asleep on the floor rather than his bed or still awake playing something on his pocket's light. Or even gathering shinsu into his hands like it's little more than objects cradled to you like a child.
That said, he's often so mentally checked out that you can see the point of whatever complicated concept you want to bring up flying over his head when it's late at night.
So you need to sleep so you can explain it simply.
Wangnan doesn't sleep for shit that night. And it doesn't help that in the morning, he walks in for his turn on breakfast and finds Viole and Hwaryun sleeping on the couch, no blanket, but his head on her shoulder and her head on his own.
It's intensely trusting, and intensely vulnerable. He hates the acid burn of jealousy in his throat and looks away from the peace in their expressions. He makes to turn away and fry some eggs, but then he sees the single red eye on him for the briefest moment. She leans over and shakes Viole with a single gesture and he stirs to look at her. Wangnan watches her press a kiss to his forehead and the acid burns hotter. He watches Viole shake his head a bit, eyes closing and opening and hiding a yawn behind his hand.
He can't stop looking, watching them do a strangely private song and dance that she wants him to see. Viole lifts himself up from the sofa and then pulls Hwaryun after him.
"Good morning, Wangnan-ssi," he murmurs, not sounding drowsy in the slightest, but eyes averted anyway.
"Morning," he says thickly, like hearing a morning greeting isn't killing his heart. "You gonna eat, Viole?" Because sometimes he doesn't.
Viole nods and he tugs Hwaryun to the room left for her. She goes with a lazy smile and a coy whisper in Viole's ear. Viole tilts his head to the left, in the way that Wangnan knows is his way of being genuinely confused, as opposed to the right where he understands but doesn't want to.
They part like a biblical sea and Wangnan hurries to start breakfast and forget the whole thing.
But he can't forget. He has to tell Viole soon and get the rejection over with. He can do this. He has to.
His best trait is his reckless courage.
He finishes breakfast and everyone comes and eats it. It's plainer today but no one ever complains. It's good enough.
They're supposed to get ready for training and they do, but Wangnan finds himself distracted the whole time, from the way Miseng is suddenly faster than yesterday to how Prince's hook is better aimed, to how Viole reminds them with each step that shinsu can breathe in the way he flicks his fingers or runs soothingly over aches in someone's back. In how quickly he himself runs from one training point to the other.
He can't look away.
He does get hit a lot as a result.
Viole patching him up with lithe, long fingers makes it worse.
"Rest," orders their wave controller softly. "Your head isn't on straight."
Wangnan's the leader but the quiet concern filtering the unchanging voice makes him falter. "All right. Sorry."
The golden eyes fall on him and linger. Wangnan's face warms at it. "What," he asks.
Viole continues his delicate movements, fingers roaming just about the skin and god if he could just shift over a little, he could - "You're acting strange."
"Strange is who I am."
"I see." He finishes, the shinsu slipping back into the air. "Please rest in the shade Wangnan-ssi." Viole is on his feet and back to the others after that, leaving him staring at the swish of his ponytail.
Wangnan groans into his hands.
He blew it.
He stupidly gets ready to try again while Viole is cooking. But Hwaryun stops him just by sitting there, not looking smug, but boring over some report and occasionally throwing out facts for Viole to respond to.
"They think you're immune to cherry pits," she says at one point and all Wangnan can think of is cherry flavor on his tongue.
"Haven't tried yet," Viole answers softly. "Should I go ahead?"
"Here? The dashing prince can catch you."
Wangnan sputters before he can stop it, causing Viole to glance at him with that smoldering concern. "I'm fine," he says quickly because he doesn't want to leave the room because Hwaryun scares the shit out of him or because imagining Viole swooning is giving him heart palpitations.
Oh wait that might kill him. No. No.
"Please don't," he finally says. "You'll scare Miseng."
Hwaryun smirks at him. Viole, still looking at him like he's grown a second head, turns back to his cooking. It smells good, even without the crush with the intensity of a thousand suns boiling down his back, Wangnan can easily admit that Viole can cook, and cook well. He wants to know who taught him, who showed him how to butcher meat and slice vegetables, what herbs go with what, how long something can boil.
The difference between him and the people at the top is the strength of his resolve and he hasn't given up yet.
Spitefully, Wangnan never wants to.
"Viole," he says and gets a quiet hum. "Can I talk to you alone for a sec later?"
Viole glances at him and then nods, slowly.
Hwaryun chuckles under her breath as the door opens. She rises to her feet and whispers, "Be careful what you wish for." And departs like a chaotic angel of bad omens.
He breathes a little easier and pretends he's not watching Viole when he's asked.
Wangnan meets him later, dressed in loose pajamas and beautiful shoes you could use for dancing. He's on the roof, facing the door for once, fingers tapping idly at his covered knees.
"Wangnan-ssi," he greets, voice guarded but still soft. "Are you all right?"
No, he thinks. Yes. Looking at you makes my heart race and my stomach churn, like in books. Seeing you fight is like watching clouds. I'm fucking smitten, help me.
"I, uh…" Wangnan scratches his head. They're not too far apart but the distance is enough that Wangnan is suddenly horribly aware of how small Viole is. A small and sharp dagger. "I uhm, I wanted to tell you something."
"Yes?" Viole's voice is endless patience, steady rivers and beautiful notes.
"Back on the twenty-first floor," and gods he could say that, he could think that all because of this person. "I said that if you were my friend, I wouldn't mind laying down my life for you."
"... You did yes." Viole pauses. "It surprised me."
"It surprised me," Wangnan admits. "My life's important, you know. And I still mean it. But…" he stops, scratches his horns.
"Wangnan-ssi?" Viole's fingers have stopped moving. "I don't want you to die for me."
"I know!" But you're willing to die for nearly everyone else. He catches himself. "Sorry that isn't my point. I… I think I… I think my feelings on you have changed. Since then."
Viole's eyes are usually easy to see in the waves of the night, glimmering stars. He can't see them at this angle.
"I think I… no, I definitely want to be different from a friend to you. I think you are a lot of things and I know that you won't really… believe them but I think them. To me, you're a great guy and a treasure and… shit I'm not really sure what to say. I'm in love with you, I think?"
He trails off and they stand in silence. It feels awkward to Wangnan. It feels oppressive to Wangnan, waiting for the other shoe to drop, the rejection that is bound to happen. For reality to set in.
Then, Viole breaks the silence and asks, "Are you sure?"
Wangnan blinks. He must have heard that wrong. "Uh… what?"
"Are you sure, Wangnan-ssi?" Viole's tilted his head upwards, meeting his own eyes. He doesn't look frightening at all, but intent all the same. "I'm a weapon of FUG. I am a killer. I am not doing this for any of you, I am here for my own goals and nothing else."
He's lying and Wangnan knows it, but also he can see in Viole's utter stiffness that he believes it. He believes he is a terrible person. He believes in the certainty that he should not be happy.
And Wangnan doesn't know how to tell him how untrue that is, how wrong and stupid and awful that is to think because it's not true and he has proof, they are all proof that he is allowed to be happy.
"There was someone," Viole begins softly. "That I loved. I only realized after I lost them, that they were a treasure I wanted to keep in my arms and that I'd let go of them. I can't promise I won't have to let go of you. I can't promise I will feel what you feel. Are you sure, Wangnan-ssi?"
There's a faint tremble at the end, almost as minute as the shinsu he can summon.
But it gives Wangnan courage. He crosses the roof and pressed his hand over Viole's slender fingers.
"Yeah," he says. "I think so."
And tremulously, Viole smiles up at him. It is, without question, the most beautiful thing Wangnan has ever seen.
A/N: So this is an... experiment. I just want to see if I can write it. I know roughly where it's going to end, I'm just not sure how exactly. So we'll see when we get there! Anyway, please let me know what you think!