Chapter Text
The next morning at Blossom & Thorn was a special kind of torture. Every muscle ached from the other day’s punishment, a throbbing reminder of his place. But the deeper ache was in his soul. The memory of the kiss replayed on a loop, each time sending a bolt of sweet agony through him. He’d lost his ID badge, probably in his frantic flight. And he’d lost X, perhaps forever. How could he explain his flight? How could he face the man after such a dramatic, childish exit? How could he face X after kissing him!
Part of him was thankful for the mask, that maybe because of his hidden identity, nothing between him and X had to change. That Lin Ling could take that starlit moment and tuck it away in his heart and continue to just love the man from a distance.
He moved through his opening duties like a robot: watering, misting, checking the refrigerator for older stock. The shop felt different, smaller, as if the ballroom had expanded his world and then cruelly shrunk it back down.
He was at the back worktable, mechanically and ruthlessly de-thorning a batch of blood-red roses, his mind a thousand miles away on a starlit balcony, when the shop bell chimed.
“Be right with you,” he called, his voice dull. He didn’t look up.
“You look like you’re enacting a personal vendetta against those roses, rather than preparing them for sale.”
Lin Ling’s head snapped up so fast his neck cricked. X stood just inside the door, leaning against the frame. He was out of his corporate armor today, wearing a simple but exquisitely cut black cashmere sweater and dark trousers. His hair was black in the morning sun slicing through the window. In his hand, twirling slowly between his fingers, dangled Lin Ling’s missing ID badge. He would make his way lazily through the shop and around the counter to where Lin Ling was.
Lin Ling fumbled, the rose and scissors clattering to the table.
“X!… is that mine? Where did you find it?” He came out from behind the worktable, wiping his hands on his apron.
X pulled the badge back just as Lin Ling reached for it, a playful glint in his storm-grey eyes.
“A little fairy,” he said, his voice dropping to a low, conspiratorial murmur that vibrated in the quiet shop.
“Stole my first kiss and then dropped this as he fled into the night. Rather irresponsible, don’t you think? Leaves a man bereft and clutching laminated plastic.”
The world tilted. Heat, swift and comprehensive, flooded Lin Ling’s face. He could feel the blush spreading from his neck to his hairline. He knew. X had knew. And now… he was teasing him about it.
“I… I’m so sorry,” Lin Ling stammered, taking an involuntary step back.
“About last night, about leaving so rudely, about the… the kiss, I shouldn’t have—”
“Shouldn’t have?” X took a step forward, closing the distance Lin Ling had created. Another step, and Lin Ling’s back met the worktable. X placed his hands on the wood on either side of Lin Ling’s hips, caging him in without touching him. His larger, broader form blocked out the rest of the shop, the street, the world. Lin Ling could only stare up at him, utterly captive, drowning in the silver-grey depths of his eyes.
Slowly, X brought the ID badge up. He didn’t hand it over. Instead, he pressed the cool, laminated surface gently against Lin Ling’s parted lips, silencing any further apology.
“You look beautiful with or without the mask,” X whispered, leaning in so close Lin Ling could see the faint, dark rim around his irises, the tiny scar bisecting his left eyebrow.
“How dare you think, for even a second, that I wouldn’t recognize you. That a bit of silk and some clever makeup could hide you from me.” He was teasing, but the intensity beneath the words was a powerful force. He leaned in further, his own lips hovering just a breath away from the other side of the plastic card. They were separated only by the thin laminate, sharing the same air, the ghost of the previous night’s kiss a tangible presence between them.
Lin Ling’s eyes fluttered shut for a second, overwhelmed. Then X spoke, the vibration of his words humming through the card into Lin Ling’s lips, snapping Lin Ling's eyes wide open.
“You took my first kiss. I expect you to take full responsibility.” He pulled back just enough to look directly into Lin Ling’s wide, dazed eyes. The playful glint was still there, but it was overshadowed by a blazing, unwavering certainty.
“Marry me, Lin Ling.” The words weren’t a question. They were a statement. A decree wrapped in velvet and delivered with the absolute confidence of a man who defied fate for a living.
Lin Ling’s brain short-circuited. All the logical, screaming reasons to say no—his status, his toxic family, the insane, whirlwind speed of it, the certain media firestorm—evaporated in the furnace of X’s gaze. He’d been in love with this man for months. He’d dreamed of him in the quiet solitude of his attic. Last night, he’d felt a sense of belonging and rightness he’d never known was possible.
A small, helpless sound escaped him, a gasp that was half-laugh, half-sob. He nodded, unable to form words.
X’s smile blossomed into something radiant and triumphant, a sunrise breaking over a stormy sea.
“Good boy,” he purred, the words, low and approving, sending a shockwave of pure heat straight down Lin Ling’s spine. He finally placed the ID badge into Lin Ling’s limp hand, his fingers lingering, tracing Lin Ling’s palm.
“I’ll be by to gather my wife this evening. Be ready.” And then he was gone, the shop bell marking his exit, leaving behind the scent of rain and sandalwood and the echo of a promise that had just reshaped the universe.
Lin Ling stood frozen for a full ten seconds. Then his knees gave out. He slid down, his legs no longer able to hold up his weight, landing in a crumpled heap on the familiar, slightly dusty floor, his apron strap slipping off his shoulder. He pressed his cool hands to his flaming cheeks. He was fairly sure if he listened closely, he could hear the sizzle of his own overheated blood.
His phone, in his pocket, rang. Moon. He answered, bringing the phone to his ear with a trembling hand.
“LING!” Moon’s voice was a sonic boom of excitement.
“Did you see the news? It’s everywhere! X declared he’s marrying the mystery man from the ball! The media is having a field day trying to figure out who it is—they’re calling him ‘The Emerald Prince’ because of Wreck’s outfit! There are conspiracy boards online! I’ve had three reporters slide into my DMs asking if I know—!”
“Moon,” Lin Ling interrupted, his voice strangely, eerily calm.
“I think I’m getting married.”
There was a dead, absolute silence on the other end. Lin Ling could picture her, probably in a sleek airport lounge on her way to some exotic locale, her mouth hanging open.
Then, a scream. A high-pitched, sustained, glass-shattering scream of pure, unadulterated glee that forced Lin Ling to hold the phone at arm’s length.
“WHAT?! WHEN? LING, IF YOU DON’T GIVE ME DETAILS THIS INSTANT I WILL BOARD THE NEXT PLANE BACK AND SHAKE THEM OUT OF YOU! Was it X? It was X, of course it was! OH MY GOD, HE FOUND YOU!? THAT FAST?? HE PROPOSED? DID HE DO IT IN THE FLOWER SHOP? THAT IS THE MOST ROMANTIC, INSANE THING I HAVE EVER—!”
Lin Ling listened to her joyous tirade, a slow, dazed smile spreading across his own face. The world had gone mad. Wonderfully, beautifully mad.