No part of you is unworthy
Hua Cheng had never feared mirrors, per se.
Mirrors were useful things. They could show where blood had dried, where hair had fallen loose and where robes needed straightening, before presenting oneself.
Though, tonight, Hua Cheng stood before one, draped in silken red sleeping robes parted at the chest.
One hand braced against the wood of the vanity, another fiddling with his hair.
His hair had fallen over one side of his face. With a heavy sigh, he brushed it aside. Under there was nothing hiding the fact his eye socket was empty. The old scaring at the surrounding skin was rough and uneven, as if something feral had torn at it. He stared at himself for too long.
He had made himself beautiful in many ways: Make up done flawlessly, dressed with red silks and expensive jewellery, a sharp smile, painted confidence.
But underneath all of that was this ugly truth.
His fingers twitched toward the socket, a look of disdain on his face he spat the word, "hideous" under his breath.
Behind him, the door slowly slid open and a familiar voice called softly. “San Lang?”
Hua Cheng’s hand snapped away from his face, hair falling back down as he turned away. Xie Lian stopped at once. For one fragile breath, neither of them moved. Then Xie Lian stepped inside and closed the door with care.
“Dianxia, I did not hear you.” Hua Cheng attempted to say smoothly though he could tell Xie Lian could see through him.
Hua Cheng lowered his head, his face angled away, his hair spilling like a curtain between them. Xie Lian crossed the room slowly. He did not reach for him immediately. He only stood close enough that Hua Cheng could feel the warmth of him.
“San Lang,” he said, soft as a prayer left beside a grave. “Would you look at me?”
Hua Cheng tried to smile but it came out thin.
“There is nothing worth seeing.”
Hua Cheng went very still.
Xie Lian stepped closer. “San Lang, did I do something to make you feel far away from me?”
“No, never,” Hua Cheng answered too quickly. “Dianxia could never.”
“Then why won’t you look at me?”
The room seemed to shrink around them.
Hua cheng's head stayed bowed. “Please,” he said.
Xie Lian stopped hearing the desperation in his voice, that single word, it sounded so pained.
Hua Cheng drew a unsteady breath. “Dianxia, please don’t ask this of me.”
Xie Lian’s eyes softened with hurt, Hua Cheng sounded as if he expected love to end at the sight of him.
“Can I not see my beloved husband?" Xie Lian said.
“Your Highness is merciful.”
“No,” Xie Lian whispered. “I am selfish.”
That made Hua Cheng’s head tilt slightly, confused despite himself.
Xie Lian reached up, slow enough that Hua Cheng could stop him. “I want to see the face I love.”
Hua Cheng stiffened, but did not pull away.
Xie Lian brushed a strand of hair behind his ear. Then another.
Hua Cheng stood frozen beneath the tenderness, allowing his god to do as he pleased.
Xie Lian saw the place Hua Cheng feared was too hideous to be loved.
“You think this makes you unworthy?” Xie Lian asked.
Hua Cheng’s mouth tightened. “It does not improve me.”
“You are my husband,” Xie Lian said. “My San Lang. The one who found me when I was lost. The one who waited. The one who loves so deeply that even death could not quiet him.”
His thumb brushed the edge of Hua Cheng’s cheek, careful, reverent.
“How could I look at any part of you and feel disgust?”
Hua Cheng’s face crumpled before he could stop it. “Dianxia…”
“Gege,” Xie Lian corrected softly.
Hua Cheng’s lips parted, but no sound came.
Xie Lian leaned up and kissed his brow. Then his cheek. Then, after a pause, the scarred skin near the empty socket.
Hua Cheng made a wounded sound.
“Gege,” he whispered at last. “It is unpleasant, Gege doesn’t need to pretend otherwise.”
Xie Lian’s thumb paused against his cheek. Then, very carefully, Xie Lian cupped his face with both hands. “I am not pretending.”
Hua Cheng’s throat tightened. Xie Lian looked at him. Truly looked. “With this eye,” Xie Lian whispered, “you saw me when no one else did.” Hua Cheng’s breath caught. “With this eye, you kept loving me. Through death, through fire, through centuries.” Xie Lian’s voice shook, but his hands did not. “How could I hate any part of you that carried so much love?”
Hua Cheng opened his eye. He meant to say something wicked and clever, something that would spare them both the rawness of this moment. Instead, his mouth trembled. “Gege,” he said, barely audible and bowed his head until it rested against Xie Lian’s shoulder. His hands clutched at the back of Xie Lian’s robes.
Xie Lian held him with not one bit of hesitation. His hands moved through his hair. “I love your face,” Xie Lian murmured, giving him a quick kiss. “I love your smile. I love your eye. I love the places that hurt. I love all of you, my San Lang.”
Hua Cheng’s shoulders shook once. “Your Highness is too kind.”
“No,” Xie Lian said, pressing another kiss to his temple. “I am only telling the truth.”
And for once, with Xie Lian holding his face like it was something sacred, Hua Cheng almost believed the mirror had been the liar after all.
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