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Nie Huaisang watched his fiance flit about the room for what felt like hours. Initially, the act soothed the young master’s nerves; it was a relief to know Wanyin was not mad at him. But after snapping orders and shooing away his disciples for what seemed to be the fifth time, Huaisang’s patience was at its limit.
From the bed, Huaisang spoke, voice hiding no strain of effort, “It isn’t so bad, A-Cheng. The pain-relievers helped.”
At that, Wanyin’s gaze hardened. He was not deaf to the strain in Huaisang’s voice, nor was he the type of fool to dismiss his lover’s injuries. Falling from a horse was a matter in itself, but being ambushed by a pack of ruffians? “The pain-relievers helped because I made them special. And it is that bad, Huaisang. You snapped a bone and sprained a wrist; how could it not be bad?”
Gingerly, Jiang Wanyin punctuated the last sentence by drawing a cloth over Huaisang’s forehead. It was messy, stubborn particles of dirt refused to bend no matter how much the sect leader wished it so. He knew Nie Huaisang would have hated to be seen in such a state.
“Really, it isn’t that bad at all.” Huaisang smiled, “You helped save me; spent the whole day tending to me. I’m happy, isn’t that important, A-Cheng?”
Wanyin refused to respond. He only frowned, reached over and adjusted the strands of hair he’d misplaced. Besides replacing bandage — which he had done moments prior — there was nothing more for the sect leader to offer. Soon, Nie Mingjue would arrive with questions, and although Jiang Wanyin was certain the event would not put a kink into his engagement with Huaisang, there was no telling what temperament Chifeng-Zun would approach him with. Likely bad, perhaps fuming but certainly a headache.
It was an unfortunate event, one that could have been averted if Jiang Sect had patrolled the area more thoroughly. The two were riding horses and Nie Huaisang, in his free-spirited ways, chose to speed ahead. They would often race as children; Wanyin had no reason to suspect this to end so horribly. He was a shaking mess when he carried Huaisang’s pained body home. He still was, gazing at the pale man before him — tear stains and bruises marring his gentle, solemn face. The situation could never be alright, not until the sect leader saw the young master recover in full.
Wanyin made a startling noise when Huaisang reached over to cup his cheek. His hand was cold, but its loving caress and feathery touch had yet to change.
“Maybe you haven’t thought of it, A-Cheng, but I can tell you other reasons why this really is alright.”
“For start, I have your dedicated attention. I know you care deeply; I know you’ll likely bring your paperwork and do it right next to me, too. I adore your company, and you’re the cutest when reading angry letters from other sect leaders.”
“Second, but just as important, you’d bring me food and pour my tea, just like you did hours hence. I won’t have to dine alone, you’ll be here, and if you aren’t then you’d likely show up to make sure I am eating. It’s important for my recovery, after all.”
“Third, I would need help brushing my hair and washing my face. Maybe change my robes, and Heavens know I can’t possibly bathe myself like this…”
Jiang Wanyin’s face flushed, “You—!”
“Me?” the young master’s voice was a touch lighter, an ounce livelier. His smile, no matter the red-clotted lines that marred his delicate lips and the tired cast that shadowed his eyes, was genuine. It tore at Wanyin’s pride, but he did love to see it no matter the tease.
He wanted to embrace Huaisang in that moment. For all the conceited, half-hearted (yet painstakingly true) reasons, Jiang Cheng’s heart fluttered the way it did whenever the young master would pull his antics. He thought of kissing the injured man, too. Tossed the idea in his mind, pondered whether Huaisang’s delicate lips would frown in pain or curl back in distaste. He leaned in once, twice, and then removed himself all-together.
Nie Huaisang saw the conflict, reached down and tugged at his purple robes. It was a chaste kiss, lasted over a fraction of a second, yet it left his lips buzzing. To the young master’s joy, Jiang Cheng leaned in a third time.