Sometimes you meet the love of your life at fifteen but spend the next three years too tangled up in confusion and bewildering attraction and denial to do anything about it.

Sometimes the love of your life disappears at age twenty two without a word to you, and even his family refuse to talk about him anymore.

Sometimes you finally see the love of your life again in the instant noodle aisle of a 7-11 at 8 PM in a foreign city.

"Wei Ying," says Lan Wangji. He has no idea what his face is doing. He's too busy concentrating on not dropping the box of teabags he has cradled in his elbow.

The man staring at the range of extra spicy noodles doesn't even twitch. He reads the ingredients of one bowl, then grabs another to compare. Eventually, he turns around and sees Lan Wangji. His eyes widen, barely enough to count as a reaction, and he smiles. "Sorry, am I in your way?" He takes both noodle bowls and steps back. "It's such a relief to meet someone else who likes spicy noodles." He takes another bowl off the shelf and hands it to Lan Wangji. "I recommend these ones."

And then he is gone, weaving through the shelves to the checkout and out the door before Lan Wangji has recovered from the smile.

But he doesn't think he was mistaken. There had been recognition there, he's almost certain.

Lan Wangji buys the noodles.

--

The noodles sit, taking up important bench space of the meagre kitchenette in his hotel room, for three days.

He isn't going to eat them. He should just throw them out.

The noodles continue to exist, a mute reminder of his own weakness.

He thinks about calling his brother, but never even gets as far as picking up his phone. His brother would probably just tell him he was mistaken.

"You're going to be all right," his brother had said, one summer after Wei Wuxian was gone. "You'll see. One day you'll wake up and you won't be in love with Wei Wuxian anymore."

He'd stopped talking about Wei Wuxian with his brother after that.

His brother was wrong, anyway. It's been over a decade and every morning he still wakes up in love with Wei Wuxian.

--

He sees Wei Wuxian again three days later, and this time Lan Wangji is sure of it.

It's the kind of bright, pleasant day that makes Lan Wangji long to escape the stale, enclosed spaces of the city, so after his meetings are done he wanders through the streets near his hotel until he finds a park. The air is fresher and the spiritual energy of the place feels warm and content.

Wei Wuxian is sitting on a park bench near the duck pond, hair barely combed and falling over his face. He has a heavy cultivation text open on his lap and a notebook in one hand, and he scribbles in the notebook while referring back to the text every now and then. He twitches every time someone comes too close with a dog.

The whole time, he whistles, just snatches of a single piece of music, fading in and out but unmistakable. Wei Wuxian is whistling their song. The one Lan Wangji wrote for them and never showed anyone else.

The faintest hint of resentful energy still clings to him, like a psychic scar, but he looks healthy. Happy, even.

Lan Wangji watches him for some time before Wei Wuxian notices. This time, Wei Wuxian barely manages to control his surprise. He stares back for several long moments.

"Can I help you?" asks Wei Wuxian. It comes out weak, tentative. His shoulders are tense. His eyes flick to the side and then back up to meet Lan Wangji.

Lan Wangji needs to say something. There must be something he can say that can convince Wei Wuxian to stay, to come back home with him, to-- to stop pretending he doesn't know him.

He nods. After a moment, he manages to convince his throat to make a sound. "Hn."

Wei Wuxian smiles then, his eyes crinkling, and he puts his hand over his mouth to hide an obvious laugh. "Do you need to sit down?"

He does need to sit down. He walks over to the park bench and sits stiffly to Wei Wuxian's right. His body feels huge and awkward. He's not sure what to do with his hands.

Wei Wuxian is talking, but he's still pretending he doesn't recognise Lan Wangji. It's nonsense about the weather, the trees around them, how much he wishes people would keep their dogs on leash in public parks. He's talking to fill in the silence. He's not trying to make Lan Wangji smile, or frown, or stalk off in anger.

Lan Wangji interrupts him mid-sentence. "Wei Ying," he says.

Wei Wuxian puts his hand over his eyes and visibly breathes for a moment. "Why are you here, Lan Zhan?"

Lan Wangji doesn't know how to respond. He's in this city, this country, on sect business. He's in the park because he needed some fresh air. He's sitting next to Wei Wuxian because he loves him.

"Why can't you just pretend I never existed, like everyone else?"

Because Wei Wuxian was deliberately, strategically annoying but he didn't let Lan Wangji hide in silence and reproval, he pushed and pushed and pushed until he got a reaction. He was intelligent and unafraid to show it. He was vibrant and joyful, always ready to laugh at himself. He was willing to stand up for what he thought was right, no matter who he was standing against.

What Lan Wangji says is, "You look well."

Wei Wuxian freezes in place.

"I'm glad," Lan Wangji adds.

"You... really?" Wei Wuxian doesn't seem to know what to do with this information.

Lan Wangji stands and turns to face Wei Wuxian again. "Come back with me," he says, in his most authoritative tone, the one that sends the juniors scrambling to obey.

Wei Wuxian recoils. "I can't, you know I can't. If I ever set foot in that place again--"

Some clarification is clearly necessary. "To my hotel room."

There is a beat of silence, as Lan Wangji realises his mistake. Then, "Ooh, how forward of you. Don't I get dinner first?"

Lan Wangji pinches his nose. He can feel his cheeks heating up. "There are instant noodles," he offers.

And then Wei Wuxian laughs and laughs while Lan Wangji's cheeks burn, but he does come back to the hotel room.

Lan Wangji doesn't manage to tell him everything he'd wanted to, but he gets his phone number. He can work on the rest.