It is sometimes said that when two beings are destined to be together, the entire universe responds to the call of their love. Lost, lost; broken. But can it only revive what has already been consumed? To restore the breath of life to what has already flown away, far, very far from the last scraps of hope which have also ended up dying?

A night of frost falls on The Cavity of the Clouds. lanWangji looks up at the roof. This roof on which his only love liked to lie down, drink and giggle between two sips, two playful calls, claiming his name. His voice still resonates in the depths of his being, clear, singing. As beautiful as it is painful.

He grips the rope of the small jars between his fingers and leaps on the tiles to sit down where his beloved is still emerging perfectly through his memories. Light, her fingers brushing the icy surface, as delicate as the caress of the cold breeze on her face. As if he was afraid to carry away the ephemeral bits of his presence– sacred – footprint in these places. Jaw clenched, he barely suppresses the terrible pain in his throat.

Evil never manages to soften, quite the contrary. A decade later, his heart contains the sweetest of drugs. Devouring. Only ordinary mortals can revel in the passage of time. Months, years, which pride themselves on repairing broken souls. We know that a love is exceptional when the duration only worsens the weight of the evils, instills an even more bitter suffering, while the world, for its part, is constantly getting back on its feet, moving forward, rediscovering its joy at will. winds. The exception ignores all of their words, hides these promises of mountains and wonders, this miraculous oblivion supposed to put memories to sleep like a sweet remedy of patience, a lifesaver.

So, for what reasonWangji Should he respond to the words of those who will never feel the heartache of his loss? will never experience, through their own eyes, the cursed treasure reflected in his soul? The flames still consume his heart, which has already fallen to ashes, even after an eternity. Again and again. Why worry about the world, when you are finally more alone than the moon...

That night, sheltered from the ignorant, his mourning regains freedom of expression. Filled with distress, her tearful gaze lifts to the heavens, addressing her torment to the solitary star. His salutary end will not come. The universe will not answer him. Because the universe is faithful only to itself and does not listen to any of the cries that are dying and walling up on its lips.

He opens the small jar in order to inhale the scent. The voice of his beloved, rejoiced by gluttony, immediately resounded in his mind. A weak rictus of grief purses his lips, he closes the jar. Tonight, the moon will be the confidante of his torture, the constellations his pitiless spectators, deaf to his calls, forever. Because there is ultimately no miracle to be hoped for. The tears never stop flowing, silent, as fate has always been.

From the celestial mist, delicate little frozen cottons escape.Wangji extends a limp hand towards one of those who has not yet touched the ground. Among the legends of chilled lovers, it is said that the first snowflake is conducive to prayers, soothes hearts. Why, then, does the one stranded on her warm skin not bring her the unique favor of her bewildered soul? Transformed into a cold drop, the small snow rolls on the back of his hand until it falls on a tile. Wishes and miracles do not exist. They are only vain hopes. And always end up dying out.

Lan Zhan...

Wangji closes his eyes, his eyelashes crushing a few tears. With a heavy heart, he strangles his sobs in his knotted throat.

Lan Zhan...

The melodious song of his suffering resounds in him, more painful than ever. It is almost as if he would sink into dementia.

Lan Zhan...

Cutting through the cold night breeze, a warm breath suddenly brushes her tearful cheek. His heart begins to vibrate in a strange way in response to the voice of his love, now imprinted in the air. Anchored in time as if from his mind. Frightened by the madness of his despair, Wangji closes his eyes tighter, clenches his teeth to quell the torture inflicted by his tender curse. But once again, the gentle warmth brushes her skin, and now, the hollow of her ear.

"Open your eyes..."

Hesitating, he ends up opening his eyes slowly, and, led by the wind, the divine perfume of his haunted nights fills his whole being. As real as the shape now looming to his left. Close to him.

His breathing quickens as he begs the cruel heavens to stop playing with his ills, to let the illusion hover, to then better finish him off.

Against his reason, the tiny hope anchored in his soul convinces him to turn his head. The decline is already announced. But when the object of his torment stands kneeling in front of him, his heart skips a beat.

"You... you're not real..."

Yiling Patriarch's lips gently stretch.

"Touch me, and you will know..."

Eyes wide and face quivering with a reality he couldn't bear,Wangji raises his hand with fearful slowness, letting the few moments last that link him to happiness, soon to be shattered into a thousand shards. A few centimeters from his skin, the heat of which is already warming his fingers, he stops, unable to go any further.

In order to seal the proof from which his tortured beloved does not dare to free himself, the ghost places his cheek in the hollow of his palm. The design of her smile reveals a peaceful tenderness.

The confused gaze ofWangji widens, his mouth begins to tremble.

"Wei Ying... Please don't tell me it's a dream..." he murmurs feverishly.

La main de WeiWuxian comes to nestle in the quivering neck of his love. His face close to hers, he whispers against her parted lips.

"Lan Zhan, I am your first snowflake...

The amber irises ofWangji shimmer with an ocean of tears. And as soon as their mouths touch, their breaths mingle, the sacred words that have always haunted his heart break through the fragile barrier of a hitherto eternal silence.

"I love you... Wei Ying, never leave me again."

Wei Wuxian's fingers slid down his neck. Her silver eyes light up under the moonlight, spectator of the moment- precious –, of this unexpected, marvelous miracle.

" And Lan Zhan, you and me, we are like eternity. Nothing can separate us... Ever."

Their lips press against each other, sealed by a bond stronger than the very laws of nature.

In the midst of the snowflakes, now deposited by the thousands in their jet-black hair, their embrace blazes, radiating with its magic. Because enchantment only needs a spark of love to exist. A love that transcends time to the point of making fate itself weep, and tear it apart. Convince him to bring back to life what should shine and endure, never to fly away again.

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Edits by Amy and Max_maks