Chapter Text
He wakes up in an unfamiliar room, it's dark except for a sliver of light escaping the cracked door. He's so tired that he doesn't even started, nor do his eyes even snap open. There is an ache in his body that is bone deep, but all of his limbs are accounted for.
He cracks his eyes open and tries to look around the room, his muscles feel tight as if his skin is a size too small. The room is an odd shape, the walls are painted white and there is a closed door at the end of it. The furniture is odd too, there is a table near the bed that has a transparent long cup containing what he assumes is water and a rectangular item that has glowing red shapes, and a few other items. The wall facing him has a few paintings hanging some scrolls and some housed in rectangular vessels. There are drapes to the left of the bed, dark and towering.
He doesn't remember if if was yesterday or a year ago, the days bled into each other in the water prison. He doesn't remember sleeping nor waking there, kept in a hell of Luo Binghe's making. A stump of a man, offered no food nor offered mercy. Surviving on spite alone, silently yearning that Qi-ge would come and rescue him. If little Qi-ge couldn't rescue him then surely the sect leader Yue Qingyuan would be able to, the Xuan Su sword would defeat this abomination and rescue his Xiao-Jiu. The only thing keeping him alive was the complete belief that the sect leader was stronger than the beast.
And how he wished Qi-ge never came, how he wished that his brother had abandoned him. He would've given everything to have been abandoned. There was no pain greater than seeing his Qi-ge crawling, piercing by countless arrows crawling towards him.
And that beast towering over Qi-ge's helpless form, grinning as if their pain was the greatest play. The scream Qi-ge had let out when that beast had shattered Xuan Su rings in his ears still. He remembers thrashing around in the jar, trying to reach Qi-ge. He remembers crying blood, and cursing the beast once more. The beast looked bigger than ever before, as if he was a giant, something that can never be brought down.
He remembers cursing the heavens, why must he suffers this pain, why always him. He remembers cursing all of the gods, asking them to end his misery.
The more he thinks about that day, the more his stomach churns, he lifts himself on his left arm and tries to reach for the vessel of water. He is salivating yet he is so thirsty. His must've misjudged his own strength, his elbow gives up under his own weight and he knocks the vessel over. The vessel crashes, shards going everywhere. It must've been made of glass, maybe he can grab one of the shards and...
There is commotion from where the light is shining, the voice is male and the light grows brighter. He remembers yesterday, waking up on the carpeted floor. The stranger with the short hair, the bright light. The plush furniture under him. The sweet fruit and the water that he drank. The gentle voice and the gentle hands. When was the last time someone touched him and didn't inflict pain? Maybe never.
Yesterday was a blur, he cannot conjure a singular image of what happened all he remembers are the sensations he experienced. The sounds, the tastes, the warmth of the bath water. Yet everything else was an unfocused blur.
The door is opened and the person touches the wall and light floods the room, the other person is a tad bit shorter than him. How come he couldn't notice his features yesterday but he looks so clear today. Could it be his eye is healed as well?
"Don't move, please. Stay in the bed, I don't want you to step on a shard." The man, and how he wilts inside, is speaking gently again.
His words were awfully casual but he cannot chastise him after all he is no longer a peak lord. No longer is is owed respect, and with how the beast treated him he doubts he is owed basic decency.
The person leaves and returns with what looks like a broom and another vessel to collect the shards. The floor is dusted and the person kneels near the bed to check for any missed shards presumably under it. He has a rectangular item in their hand the item is shining a bright light under the bed. The person leaves with the broom and returns with another transparent glass of water.
"You must've been thirsty, here let me help you drink". He comes closer, slow as if approaching a lounging tiger.
"I am going to touch you so I can help you sit up" an arm sneaks behind him and helps him sit up once again. The glass is brought to his lips and he drinks and drinks, the glass is emptied in no time.
"Let me help you sit, I'll go bring you another glass." The person helps him sit up on the bed, and he rests his back on the plush headboard. The person gets up to leave.
He doesn't know why he is so thirsty when he salvating so much. The person returns a second time, a light smile on their face. Nausea racks his body and he is unable to lift his hands to his arm quick enough before he is emptying the contents of his stomach on the bedding.
He looks horrified at the mess, it's mainly water. He avoids looking at the other person lest he is sneering at him. He would rather not see the pain before he can feel it. He hears the glass being placed on the side table.
"I... I am sorry I must've made you drink too much water. Let me get you cleaned up" an arm reaches towards the bedding and folds it away from his body, person disappears with the folded bedding.
The person returns and he refuses to look at him, his humiliation eating at him.
"Can I please touch your face?" The person asks. He opens his mouth to answer but he cannot make words. Tears of frustration well in his eyes and he refuses stop let them fall.
"If you are having trouble talking, a nod or a shake of your head will do. Can I please touch your face?" He nods. Gentle hands, as soft as the flap of a butterfly's wing touch his chin. The person lifts his head gently with the tips of his fingers and a damp rag touches his face. He opens his eyes, he doesn't even know when he closed them. The person's face is so close.
He has black cat like eyes, his hair touches his ears and frames his face. The short hair doesn't look as if it was shopped off the way a criminal's is, it looks as if the cut was intentional. His face is slim so is his nose, his lips are plush and pink in color.
A face like his would've been fit for a mistress or a courtesan, a face that would've been someone muse.
"Would you like to bath again?" He shakes his head.
"Then how about I wipe down the sweat on your body and help you change into another pajama" he nods to that. He never liked when others touched him but this one, his fingertips feel like a balm on his skin. The person helps him out of the sleeping garment and gently wipes his body. The person doesn't leer and doesn't look at him as if he's a piece of meat. He wonders what his life would've accounted to if he had met him prior, back when he was but a street rat.
"Oh how rude of me I haven't introduced myself, I am Shen Yuan. How would you like me to call you?" Says the person as he dresses him.
He folds 1 finger out of his 10 and lifts them towards Shen Yuan.
"Jiu? Would you like me to call you Jiu? That feels a bit rude doesn't it? How about Jiu-er?" Heat overcomes Shen Jiu's face and he nods again not noticing the smile on Shen Yuan's face.
Shen Jiu is made to lay in the middle of the bed once more, a new bedding covering him. Shen Yuan gets up to leave again but Shen Jiu grabs onto his hand, he doesn't want him to leave. What if never returns, or what if he leaves and then the beast shows up. Or worse what if he leaves only to return bloodied and half dead.
His fears must show on his face, for Shen Yuan looks into his eyes and searches his face.
"Let me turn off the lights first" Shen Jiu let's go of that soft hand and Shen Yuan touches the wall and the lights turn off. He returns to the bed and sits where Shen Jiu was leaning on the headboard above the bedding.
"Can I touch your hair" Shen Yuan's hand is hovering over Shen Jiu's head "I always found it easier to sleep when someone played with my hair when I was younger." After a barely noticeable nod, Shen Yuan starts gently petting his hair.
The touch is rose petal soft and before he knows it Shen Jiunis asleep once more.