jjoy03
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Summary
Cheng Xiaoshi, all in all, loves working with Lu Guang. It’s not much heavy work, mostly just helping people and making sure no one is doing anything stupid, like hiding a body in the vanishing storage room. Though he’s already sat there for an hour and didn’t disappear, so he’s thankfully disproved that myth.
(Lu Guang runs a magic store and Cheng Xiaoshi needs a job.)
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Rain picks up as if to mock him, so strong and quick that its gale alone is enough to shrink his fireplace into a dim light. Cheng Xiaoshi stares down at it, sullen, and when water trickles even through the overarching trees, he moves to retreat to the soldiers’ tents. At least there are blankets there and the breathing of dozens of men to help fight off the cold.
But Lu Guang stands over him before he gets the chance, his boots squelching under damp earth. When Cheng Xiaoshi looks up at him, he’s blinking slowly like a feral cat. It draws a laugh from him.
“Who dragged this spoiled princess outside?”
(Lu Guang is a prince, Cheng Xiaoshi is a knight, and it's just as terrifying as one would think.)
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Lu Guang sighs, drawn-out and slow. “How do you always know?” He says, not unkindly. Just tired.
“Hm,” Cheng Xiaoshi hums, shuffling a little closer. “Just a feeling.”
Or: The same scene, five times over.
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“Anything else?” He waits for Lu Guang to look back at him. “That I’m like, in the future.”
And Lu Guang— softens, just a touch. “No,” his thumb traces the handle of the mug as he says it. “Nothing else.”
And Cheng Xiaoshi has no choice but to believe him, even if only partially. He will allow himself this one small comfort.
(Cheng Xiaoshi gets into an accident, forgets a few things, and grows into himself.)
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He's looking up after his performance, and there’s a man staring from behind a faraway column, unblinking.
Till's hands are frozen over the keys, waiting for a scolding. Or a fucking blink, maybe, whichever comes first. But the man is wearing a light blue apron and black tie. Part of the waiting staff, then. There’s a tray tucked under his arm, too, so he’s probably supposed to be working, but he’s just… Standing there. Just looking at him.
(Till’s a pianist in a too-fancy hotel lounge. Ivan is a very dedicated fan.)