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"Your Highness, eat."
"i told you, I'm not hungry. Now take this away from me," Xie Lian hisses in aggravation, glaring down at the crudely made snow white bao before him.
But Wuming remains steady as a grand oak tree. Unmoving in his persistence to get Xie Lian to eat something. Anything. He can tell that Xie Lian's mortal body is crying for sustenance.
This calm composure is the final straw for Xie Lian.
"Why must you be like this?!" He cries.
"You're all like this! Ever since everything fell to ruin it's like I'm not afforded even a shred of respect. I know that you must regard me with disdain. I know that I deserve it. But why do you follow me around if you're going to disregard everything I say?!" Xie Lian's hands clutch tight at his head as if he's aiming to tear his skull out himself.
Hot tears blur his vision, and a disorienting dizziness threatens to push him to the ground. It must be the hunger, he thinks glumly.
But then he feels a pair of large cool hands firmly grasp his own, and gently pulls them away from where they're clawing at his hair. He smells a familiar scent. A comforting one.
He peers up through tear soaked lashes and sees that Wuming has moved to sit directly in front of him, patiently unweaving his messy hair from his fingers.
Involuntarily, grisly sobs escape his trembling lips, and he feels his face burn hot. He's crying so hard that the dizziness from before increases its viciousness tenfold, and he unwittingly allows himself to sag against the firm chest before him.
Wuming's arms reach around to hold him closer as he breaks. When was the last time someone has held him like this? Who had it been? His mother? Xie Lian can't recall. It feels as though it's been 800 years since he last felt even a smidge of comfort offered by another.
If he excludes White No Face, that is.
Xie Lian cries earnestly. Wailing amidst his sobs and hiccupping through his ragged breaths. Somewhere beyond the thick haze of his despair, he can pick out a melody hummed in a low voice. The sound feels both intimately near and impossibly far.
A foreign melody, but a beautiful one.
His crying is interrupted by a sharp twisting pain in his abdomen. But before he has a chance to look down and check, a large hand moves from where it'd been slowly caressing his back to press firmly over his belly to subdue the pain.
That's when Xie Lian realizes the position he's in. He's been pulled into Wuming's lap, with half of his face buried into the black clad ghost's chest. One of Wuming's hands gently plays with his hair while the other is now firmly pressed on his belly to mitigate the ache of starvation.
The humming came from Wuming.
The hand on his belly begins to rub in small circles as Xie Lian's sobs taper off into tiny stuttered breaths. The hand on his hair reaches over to grab a bao and brings it to his quivering lips.
Xie Lian shakes his head and resolutely tries to burrow into the safety of Wuming's chest. However, Wuming simply readjusts his hold on Xie Lian and now the position makes it awkward for Xie Lian to do that anymore. The hand on his belly is only deceptively gentle. Xie Lian knows that it won't be easy for him to sprint off now.
Not that he actually wants to.
He's too exhausted from crying. If he tries to stand up now his shaky legs would fail him instantly - and that would not only land him right back in Wuming's arms, it would also be a painful blow to his already bruised pride.
He'd rather not go through such trouble.
However, that just means that he's now trapped here. Tucked in Wuming's embrace. It wouldn't be the worst embrace he's ever had, he realizes.
But White No Face never forced him to eat when he didn't want to. He’d forced him to do a whole slew of other objectively horrifying things though. Thus, maybe it's best not to compare.
His traitorous stomach growls which prompts Wuming to nudge the bao to his chapped lips once more. But no matter how hungry he is, Xie Lian cannot find it in himself to bite off a piece of that bun.
He's not even trying to be stubborn now.
After not eating in so long, that innocent little bao looks daunting to him. He feels like his hunger will make him take too large a bite that he wouldn't be able to manage and he will end up vomiting it back out.
He's too exhausted to handle throwing up. So he'd rather not try.
Wuming seems to notice the want and hesitation warring within him, and lifts the snowy bun to his own mouth. He bites a small chunk off with his teeth, and takes it between two fingers to proffer it to Xie Lian once more.
Wuming had been careful not to let his own tongue and saliva touch the bitten off piece, but Xie Lian doubts that he'd mind it either way. Because for some reason, this piece of bun looks a lot safer to eat. Tentatively, he takes a small bite out of the already small piece offered from Wuming's hand.
He chews it a few times, and moans when his taste buds are greeted with mild sweetness from the bun's starch. His stomach growls to the point of aching again, so Wuming's hand doesn’t cease gently massaging it to quell the discomfort.
Xie Lian feels a new batch of tears make their way down his face as he leans in for another small bite, finishing the piece off.
"That's good, Your Highness. Can you eat a bit more for me?" Wuming asks in a warm tone.
Xie Lian is surprised by the sudden elation blooming in his chest at the praise, but makes now show of it. Instead he just wordlessly nods his assent.
Wuming dutifully bites off another piece of bun for him.
"Good job, Your Highness. Slowly now."
And another.
"Just like that, I'm proud of you."
Then another.
"You're doing so good for me,"
Slowly but surely, under Wuming's firm guidance and warm praise, Xie Lian manages to finish the entire steamed bao. The hand on his belly works to push out the air that has come to occupy his empty stomach - what would've otherwise caused him to feel sick and throw up.
But he's mortified when it comes out as a burp. how unmannerly of him!
Wuming doesn't seem to care though. On the contrary, Wuming looks pleased that the food is settling well in his stomach and wouldn't cause him problems later.
Xie Lian surmises that since he is no longer a prince in a proper dining setting, what does a burp matter? Though he still cannot help but feel a tiny bit bashful regardless.
After that bao is eaten, Xie Lian feels full. Thus, Wuming doesn't force him to eat any more. However, Wuming doesn't let him go either. Under those unyielding hands, Xie Lian feels like putty now that he's eaten and cried his heart out.
He feels sleepy. Like a satisfied cat.
Xie Lian stretches his limbs languidly and settles against Wuming's chest once more. It's so comfortable like this.
"Sleep, Your Highness." Wuming says. "I'll be here for you when you wake up."
For some reason, Xie Lian finds that he believes in the black clad ghost’s words, and succumbs to his exhaustion at last.