There is no scar.
There’s nothing. The skin under his fingers is smooth and unmarred. Perfect.
Lan Wangji trails his fingers along the pale, warm skin, keeping his touch light and reverent. Under his ear, Wei Ying’s heart beats steadily and his chest rises and falls as he breathes. He’s there, he’s alive, he’s Lan Wangji's to hold and to keep safe.
There is no scar but it doesn’t stop Lan Wangji from imagining it. He stares at Wei Ying’s stomach, the way it dips slightly after his ribcage—he’s still too thin, no matter how Lan Wangji tries to make him eat better. A faint trail of hair leads from his navel down and disappears under the thin sheet covering Wei Ying’s lower body.
It’s unseasonably hot even in Gusu and they’ve been sleeping naked because Wei Ying wishes so. Lan Wangji protested mostly for show because while decency is one thing, the chance to look at Wei Ying for his heart’s content outweighs everything else.
He doesn’t get to do that nearly as often as he wants. It’s curious because while Wei Ying can be utterly shameless when he’s clothed, he turns strangely shy when they shed the layers and peel each other bare. Lan Wangji doesn’t really understand; Wei Ying is beautiful because he’s Wei Ying. To him, the body is just a vessel for everything Wei Ying is and even though he might look different from how he did in his first life, it’s still him. But Wei Ying tends to avert his eyes with an embarrassed air and distract him and, because Lan Wangji is weak, he tends to get distracted very easily.
He brings his hand to rest just above Wei Ying’s navel. His palm is big enough to cover most of the area and he keeps it there for…reasons. Protection, perhaps. It’s where Wei Ying’s golden core is supposed to be—where it would be. Where it should be. The mere thought of someone reaching into Wei Ying and removing his core is unbearable and Lan Wangji fights the urge to grip his beloved and never let him go. What is done is done. It happened. There’s nothing he can do about it now.
There is no scar but Lan Wangji still sees it.
The heartbeat under his ear stutters slightly and a moment later, Wei Ying asks, ”Lan Zhan?” His voice is sleep-muffled and lazy, curling around him like a warm blanket.
”Mn,” Lan Wangji says.
Wei Ying brings his hand on top of Lan Wangji's and sighs. It’s the kind he makes when he thinks Lan Wangji is being stubborn over nothing but what he fails to see is that it’s not nothing. Damaging Wei Ying is unforgivable.
”Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says again.
There is no scar but it doesn’t diminish the fact that Lan Wangji knows it’s there. The hollow ache Wei Ying tries to cover with quick smiles and flippant words. The pain of losing a part of himself even if it was for someone else’s benefit. The violation stays even if the sacrifice was willingly offered.
There is no scar and yet…
Gently, Lan Wangji slides their hands lower as he raises his head and presses a kiss on Wei Ying’s stomach. It quivers under his lips and Wei Ying lets out a small, almost broken sound as Lan Wangji presses another kiss on his skin. And another.
And another.
In time, Wei Ying will believe he’s worthy and beautiful and perfect. Until that day, Lan Wangji will remind him with his touch, with his love, with his devotion.
Every day.