It's weird, Luo Binghe thinks he should be happy, elated even, that Shen Qingqiu ever managed to open his eyes again after his... fall. That's exactly what he pictured himself feeling, day after day as he carefully tended to his Shizun's cold body– how relieved, how happy he would feel, and how he would kneel on the ground and beg for forgiveness if it meant Shizun would, even if just for a second, grant him a chance to explain himself.
Or something along those lines, now however, those fantasies feel like dreams from a lifetime ago. After all, how is he supposed to try to amend his relationship with Shizun, if he's not even sure if the body walking around his room is Shen Qingqiu in the first place?
Luo Binghe lays motionless on the bed. Maybe if he pretends he's asleep, Shizun will stop.
It's like a fragment of the past. Shizun sounds so gentle, so caring, it's like Binghe is back to being sixteen all over again. It sends shivers down his spine.
That's new. It's enough for Binghe to slowly, reluctantly open his eyes and turn around. The room is dark, he had been too scared to open the windows and let sunlight ruin this fragile dream, but it also means the room is filled with a darkness not even his demonic eyesight can pierce through.
Shizun is standing in the corner of the room, facing away from him, his robes slightly askew from when he dragged himself out of the bed. He's not moving.
It started a few nights ago, Shizun getting up and standing in the corner, calling out Binghe's name. Binghe’s intuition screams at him not to get closer, so he never does, but the temptation is beginning to chip away at his strength. Still, he's not so far gone to risk anything, so he remains on the bed, half turned around, and doesn't make a sound.
"Come here. Shizun has something to tell you."
Binghe grips the sheets beneath him, fist so tight it shakes in its struggle. He feels his mouth twitching, and he bites down on his lower lip before he says something stupid.
Shizun's finger twitches. Binghe feels like he should run away.
Binghe closes his eyes as tears threaten to escape. He turns around and pretends to be asleep again.
Sometimes Shizun will wake up when Luo Binghe is out. Not that it's a common occurrence, Binghe tries his best to always stay by Shizun's side, but some situations can't be helped, and he has to leave Shizun in his room. Just to ensure Shizun's body will remain unperturbed during Binghe’s absence, he also makes sure to lock the doors and seal them with talismans.
It's an effective way to keep anyone from coming in, but it doesn't stop Shizun from getting out.
This time is much like the others since Shizun woke up. Luo Binghe will come back to the palace, and a frantic servant will walk up to him and whisper in a tremulous voice "Master Shen is walking."
Today, Shizun is staring at a closed window, far enough from his room that it sends a spike of worry in Binghe's heart.
"...Shizun. You should get back to your room." He says, voice raspy. He's still not sure he should talk to Shizun at all in his current state.
Shizun doesn't respond, just staring at the closed window and slightly swaying to music Binghe's ears are not privy to.
Binghe takes a step forward, cautious. Shizun continues to sway.
"Shizun." He tries again. No response.
He takes another step, and another, and Shizun suddenly falls to the ground, boneless. Binghe rushes forward. "Shizun!"
Dropping to the ground, Binghe takes hold of Shizun's head and back, checking for any injuries, and ignores the way Shizun's chest doesn't move.
He sighs when he finds no sign of injuries, but his eyes can't seem to reach Shizun's face, not that it matters anyway, Binghe knows Shizun's eyes are open and silently following him.
Thankfully, Shizun stays still as Binghe takes him back to his room, and says nothing when Binghe tries to question him on how he got out of the room if the doors are still closed and the talismans intact.
Sometimes, Binghe wakes up to Shizun on top of him. He remembers having similar fantasies when he'd been younger and more naive, and oh, how he wishes his current situation was anything close to those fantasies. Unfortunately, any good in his life was ripped away that day in the Immortal Alliance Conference.
It is the same every time. Binghe doesn't know if that makes things better or worse, but at the very least, they are predictable; Shizun sits on top of his stomach, slightly leaning to the side as if his spine can't support the weight of his own body, and holds onto Xin Mo.
And everytime, as soon as Binghe shows any sighs that he's awake–
"Binghe, why are you doing this to me?"
It makes Binghe’s heart pound. No matter how much he tries to convince himself he's used to it, Shizun's words always make him nauseous.
"Do you hate me? Why are you doing this?" Shizun asks. His hand tightens around Xin Mo's unsheathed blade, and Binghe can see the blade cutting through skin, but no blood comes out.
"Shizun. Go back to sleep." He tries, even if deep down, he knows it's useless to argue with Shizun in this state.
"You hate me, don't you?" Shizun ignores him, adjusting his grip on Xin Mo, holding the blade out flat towards Binghe. "You should kill me."
It always comes back to this. Shizun on top of him, holding out Xin Mo, and asking Binghe the impossible. Binghe refuses to respond, laying still and biting down on his tongue.
"Binghe, don't you love me? You should kill me." Shizun asks again, his usual monotone voice colored with the slightest hint of desperation. Binghe doesn't move.
"Binghe." Shizun's patience is thinning, as it usually does, and Binghe prepares himself. "Binghe, you should kill me."
When the half-demon doesn't respond, Shizun grits his teeth and his whole body begins to tremble. He takes Xin Mo back and grips onto it tightly, rotating it until the blade is aimed at his own heart. "Binghe, kill me. Binghe. Binghe. Binghe–"
The blade inches closer and closer at every repetition of his name, and just at the blade grazes Shizun's robes, Binghe launches forward, grabbing at Xin Mo's handle and tearing it out of Shizun's grip, before quickly flipping him around and pushing Shizun against his chest, binding his arms between both their bodies.
Shizun screeches and trashes against his hold, screaming out his name again and again, but his body's still weak and powerless, so Binghe carefully lays them down, uncaring of Shizun's movements.
"BINGHE! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! BINGHE!" Shizun pleads.
Binghe makes sure his hold onto Shen Qingqiu's body is secure before he closes his eyes again.
He's not sure how long he can keep going.
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