[ there is, for once, very little awareness in Xue Yang for all the eyes that are on them. he should care more, he knows, should be taking note of faces and names when he can, should mark each one of these people so he can seek them out later if he needs to (because he can tell what they think of him, the fear there. the fear of him and the fear for Xingchen, and he will not let anyone take what is his). but he finds it impossible to do so.

not when Xingchen looks like that, is stumbling and clinging to him in a way that he has not quite experienced before, despite the time together.

(safe, his hindbrain supplies, Xingchen is curling into him because he feels safe. it makes Xue Yang want to laugh again, wild and a little cruel.

if you don't know how the world works, you should have stayed out of it.)]

Shhh, don't apologize, you did nothing wrong. [ a glare at anyone who might even think of arguing that point. no one does, but it probably doesn't help him. no matter. ] Let's... let's get you home. I can make you tea there.

[ the words feel strange in his mouth as he wraps around Xingchen tightly. protectively. possessively. he gives the cashier one more sharp glare before they are back out on the street, the sky dark and the stares of people who were always judging left behind them.

Xue Yang doesn't let go, fingers curling and pressing into his boyfriends shoulders to steady him. or perhaps to steady them both. he waits until they are in the quieter part of town, closer to where they live, before he speaks again. tries to speak as quietly as possible and without the sharpness that seems to always lie in wait when it came to speaking with him.]

What happened, Xingchen.