It was ten years and one month to the day of Wei WuXian’s death when Lan XiChen approached Lan WangJi with a gift.
It wasn’t a gift like the incense burner or the information relating to Wen Qing -- it wasn’t a gift for fixing their relationship. It was a gift to help him move on.
And while Lan WangJi knew Lan XiChen meant it in kind, with nothing but love, he still felt bitter at the sight of it.
“You haven’t worn blue in a very long time,” Lan XiChen said when he’d seen Lan WangJi’s reaction to the beautiful sky-blue silks. “I’d thought that you might want to wear it for the next conference.”
Lan WangJi had worn nothing but white since Wei WuXian’s death.
He knew that everyone in his life knew why.
He was in mourning. He would be in mourning until his own passing.
“I cannot accept them, Brother.”
He pushed the box back across the table.
Lan XiChen sighed and didn’t accept the rebuttal. “Perhaps I’ll place this in a chest for safe keepings?”
He was already on his feet with the gift in his hands. It didn’t take him long to find space in Lan WangJi’s wardrobe, where he stored it away.
“Perhaps I’ll try again in another five years? Ten?”
Lan WangJi hadn’t moved from his spot.
“You can try but I’ll never not be in mourning.” He swallowed down the last mouthful of the tea he’d poured upon Lan XiChen’s arrival.
A part of him wasn’t surprised that Lan XiChen sat back down opposite him and poured him another cup.
The conversation hadn’t ended.
“It has been ten years, WangJi. You’ve grown so much. Your son has more uncles and aunts than any other child in the world.” He chuckled at his own joke. “You are surrounded by friends and family, so much so that I feel that this anniversary wasn’t as hard on you as the previous ones were.”
He’d had so much support that year, that was true.
Jiang YanLi and A-Ling had stayed with them for the days leading up to and after the anniversary, and the Nie brothers quite conveniently had to be near Caiyi Town for a night hunt and had stopped in to check on him (he didn’t believe the part about the night hunt at all -- Cloud Recesses was more than equipped to deal with any disturbances in Caiyi Town, and it wasn’t like Nie HuaiSang attended hunts regularly).
The witches had offered him a potion that would numb him for the day, and instead brought him mountains of food.
A-Yuan and JingYi had brought a dozen bunnies to the jingshi.
There’d been so much that they’d settled in the courtyard for a picnic where they talked about anything that popped into their minds.
It had been a blessing to have his mind on something that wasn’t Wei WuXian.
But every time he found himself enjoying how A-Yuan interacted with Nie MingJue in a play-fight, or how well he fit into the role of an older cousin for A-Ling, he couldn’t help but think of how much Wei WuXian was missing by not being there. He couldn’t help but think of how much A-Yuan was missing because he didn’t have Wei WuXian to guide him.
And then, fuck, as he heard everyone laugh at one of JingYi’s jokes at A-Ling’s expense, he realised that he couldn’t picture Wei WuXian in the group with them because he couldn’t remember what his laugh sounded like.
That had made it the hardest year yet.
He’d kept it together. A-Yuan had seen him break down too many times; he couldn’t do it to him again. But when everyone was gone to their respective homes for the night and A-Yuan had fallen asleep in his bed, Lan WangJi had let the tears fall. He’d let himself sob around great, heaving breaths because he’d forgotten that laugh, that beautiful, melodic laugh that was so ingrained in Wei WuXian’s personality.
How could he possibly forget something so important? How could he let it happen?
He ended up crying himself to sleep that night and force himself to function the next morning, and then the one after that and the one after that.
Lan WangJi did what he needed to do for A-Yuan. It felt like such a massive leap backwards from the progress he’d made in making sure that he was healthy for himself, but he didn’t feel like he deserved it, not after he’d forgotten something he’d meant to hold in his heart so safely.
A month later and it still hadn’t returned to him.
Six years later, he finally allowed himself to look at the robes hidden in a box in his wardrobe, with the sound of Wei WuXian laughing with their son behind him.
