[closed post - in an atmospherically gloomy room]

[protagonisthalo]

Luo Binghe is not proud of it, but he has spent the entire day rereading the first volume of Blood at Dusk. He's not hiding, but he has no desire to see anyone—except perhaps Nina, but when he ventured out to find her, he heard what sounded like a large number of people talking in one of the bars and turned away. He should have keyed the talisman the other way around, so he could call her. It's selfish, but he feels like being selfish.

So now he is curled up in one of the lounge areas and reading the book Shen Qingqiu gave back to him. It's the margin notes that are getting to him. Shen Qingqiu's casual writing is messier than the meticulous calligraphy on the invitation he sent, and alive with his personality—it grows sloppy when Shen Qingqiu finds something to be passionate about, then small and cramped, almost frantic as he tries to fit all his thoughts on the page. He may not be the true Shen Qingqiu, but he has a scholar's mind, criticizing certain scenes as "derivative", or the dialogue as "unrealistic." Luo Binghe treasures every note, every insight into Shen Qingqiu's mind—every opportunity to picture him hunched over the book, his cherished forehead creased with focus as he jotted down this litany of complaints.

And besides reading Shen Qingqiu's notes, Luo Binghe is reading the book. Despite what Shen Qingqiu derides as a "standard supernatural romance," Luo Binghe is not too hardened to be moved by the mishaps of Ted and Isabelle. Ted is drawn to Isabelle for reasons he cannot explain, and tries his best to care for her despite his melancholic nature. Despite the fact that he's never learned how to care for anyone. He sees, in Isabelle, salvation from his life of endless darkness, of the self-loathing nightmare of being a monster. He loves her, even though she is purely beautiful and good, and he lives in a world of blood and filth that has corrupted him utterly. And Isabelle loves him, but fears him. She is right to; what he wants from her is more than she can give, and he will never stop wanting it, no matter how much she tries to appease him. His monstrous nature would overwhelm her if she let it; it's best for her to run.

If one could die of heartbreak, Luo Binghe would have dropped dead right after his mother. So he knows he must simply continue enduring it. He runs his fingers over Shen Qingqiu's notes, reading every one five times over before moving on, wishing the book was longer.

Comments

[sagramore]

Sagramore leans in the doorway and smiles at him. "My lord."

[protagonisthalo]

Luo Binghe's head snaps up in annoyance at the sound of a voice, but he softens slightly when he sees that it's Sagramore. Still— "I am in no mood for flirtation, I'm afraid."

[sagramore]

"No, no, I didn't expect you would be. May I come in?"

[protagonisthalo]

In response, he tucks his legs in a little closer so there's room for Sagramore on the sofa.

[sagramore]

Sagramore comes in and sits down beside him companionably. "What are you reading?"

[protagonisthalo]

Luo Binghe has avoided sharing certain vulnerabilities with Sagramore. If they had spoken openly of his feelings, he may not have been able to go through with their dalliance. It would have been giving away too much. Still, he is grateful that Sagramore was willing to lie with him, in his inexperience, and his willing submission endeared him to Luo Binghe greatly. But he closes the book, his finger marking the page, disinclined to share Shen Qingqiu's precious notes.

"It's a cheap novel. I have a weakness for them... The library at Qing Jing Peak, where I grew up, had but one romantic novel, likely shelved there by mistake. I must have read it fifty times." He runs his finger down the cover, smiling without humor. "I suppose it's obvious why. A lonely child dreams of love—it doesn't take a tactician to understand."

[sagramore]

"Yes, I think that follows." Sagramore is not, by nature, a meddler. He's seen enough court drama, the ins and outs of love, to want no particular part of it (not that he hasn't still been involved in some of it himself). It's not his intention to meddle now. "How are you?"

[protagonisthalo]

Luo Binghe has not spoken to anyone since he parted with Shen Qingqiu, and while he is not new to suffering, he is entirely new to romantic rejection. When he speaks, his voice is quiet and unsteady. "I have lost something I valued more than all my riches and power, and now I have nothing. I am entirely destroyed."

[sagramore]

He reaches over, putting his hand on top of Luo Binghe's and squeezing it gently. "Yes, I've-- I understand."

[protagonisthalo]

"Have you spoken with him?" If not, Sagramore would likely have asked more questions. Luo Binghe's chest clenches. "I saw him—he didn't look well."

[sagramore]

"I have spoken with him. He's-- do you want my opinion?"

[protagonisthalo]

"Please." He wants to know, but he can't stop himself from tensing, afraid to hear. Shen Qingqiu said he still wanted to spend time with Luo Binghe. He wouldn't have said anything cruel. But he's not sure if he can stand hearing that Shen Qingqiu cares about him either, not when it doesn't matter and Luo Binghe can't have him anyway. He just can't stay away, hungry for every scrap of Shen Qingqiu he can get, even though it all only hurts.

[sagramore]

"I think he cares enormously for you, but he has no high opinion of himself and no particular understanding of what he actually wants." He looks at Luo Binghe. "You seem to understand yourself fairly well. Men and women?"

[protagonisthalo]

It says a lot about how catastrophic the last day has been that answering this question hardly bothers him. "Just men, I think. But I didn't know that until I came here." He gently takes his hand from Sagramore's, and buries his face in his hands. "I know he cares about me. It makes it worse. If he only weren't so kind to me, I could forget him and know peace."

[sagramore]

"I feel perfectly confident in saying he also desires you. He just hasn't worked it out yet. --I think. We talked about it, but--"

[protagonisthalo]

Luo Binghe lifts his head to look at him. "Do you think so? He pushed me away. He didn't just say no—he pushed me, like he was—repulsed." His voice goes ragged on the last word.

[sagramore]

Sagramore shifts himself so that his back is against the arm of the couch, which makes it easier to look at Luo Binghe. "Where you come from, is it frowned upon? It is where I am. Someone like me (or you) would be considered sinful. --I don't know whether that means anything to you, actually, but my point is that there's a great deal to be gained in appearing, ah, straight, and a great deal to be lost in the reverse. I've known more than a few men who would prefer to think themselves otherwise. And I've know more than a few men who would rather I thought they were repulsed by me than by themselves."

[protagonisthalo]

Where Luo Binghe comes from, it's not particularly frowned upon. It's widely assumed that men will marry women, but men who choose other men are not seen as lesser. However, for Luo Binghe specifically, there is much to lose by not being—as Sagramore poetically puts it—"straight." Until recently, the thought filled him with panic. He never thought the same might be true for Shen Qingqiu, because what could he possibly have to lose by it? He's not even married. And even if he was, people regularly give up their lives, homes, families and status to marry Luo Binghe. He's never thought that might make someone hesitate.

"No one minds it, in my world, but Shen Qingqiu... I don't know where he's from. He is—by his own admission—a displaced spirit, inhabiting a body that doesn't belong to him. Because I knew the real Shen Qingqiu, and he was entirely different from the man who lives here. Our Shen Qingqiu admitted to this, but shied away from telling me who he really is. So how these things are viewed in his home country, I know no better than you." He chews on his thumbnail anxiously, thinking hard. "You really think it's because I'm a man? I would never have thought—I would sooner have guessed it was because I'm a demon." He's afraid to take Sagramore at his word just yet.

[sagramore]

"He's a what? --No, no, never mind, it doesn't matter. Yes. It's because you're a man. He told me himself he was devastated he couldn't return your affections because he doesn't like men. And then he talked about you in ways that certainly convinced me he likes men, or at least he likes you."

[protagonisthalo]

Luo Binghe looks up at Sagramore, eyes wide. His throat constricts so much it's hard to speak. "He said that? He really—Sagramore, you've been nothing but good to me. If you tell me it's so, I'll believe you, so please don't deceive me. When I see him, I—I think all my life I've never known what I wanted until now."

[sagramore]

He can't help smiling, at least in part because this conversation seems infinitely less disastrous than the one with Shen Qingqiu. "Listen, I'm telling you what I believe, which is that he's stupid about you. I don't know whether he believes that yet, you understand?"

[protagonisthalo]

Tears well up and spill over before he can stop them. He thinks of how Shen Qingqiu stopped to reassure him in the middle of their fight, as though Luo Binghe's distress was an emergency that took priority over everything. His mind is still working to come up with reasons why it can't be true—maybe it's the other Binghe he loves—but Shen Qingqiu has denied that more than once, and isn't the other Binghe still nearly a child? No, if he feels for anyone—if anyone here is causing him to question his feelings for men—it would be Luo Binghe. "I thought—" he starts, and then chokes on the words. He wipes the corners of his eyes with his fingers. "It's because I'm a man? That's—that's nothing, he'll get over that if he thinks about it clearly—I can wait, I can be patient—"

[sagramore]

"Ah, Christ--" Luo Binghe hasn't particularly impressed him as a man who wants to be pulled into an embrace when he's sad, like Shen Qingqiu, but that is Sagramore's first line of action against sad fellows. So he does the other thing he's inexorably drawn to do, and pushes himself off the arm of the couch so he can lean over and tuck Luo Binghe's wild hair behind his ear. "Aye, give him time, he's young-- you're both young. It's miserable now, but it'll improve."

[protagonisthalo]

Luo Binghe leans into the touch gratefully. He has rarely been so happy as the moment before he kissed Shen Qingqiu, and rarely so wretched as when he believed Shen Qingqiu didn't love him. He's exhausted, as though he's been fighting for his life for the past day against some powerful beast. "Thank you," he manages. "I hope—I am putting a lot of faith in your ability to read him."

[sagramore]

"I realize that, and I'm grateful for your trust." He rubs his thumb against the ridge of Luo Binghe's cheek. "Thou wilt be all right."