#kinda disappointed i lost my tags about how important it is for someone like lin ming to have people to take care of her but

[songxiaolin]

dialogue prompts

@justastoryteller asked: 49. “No one has ever stood up for me like that before.”

She was used to people being rude. 

No matter how she tried to explain that it was nothing personal, that she meant no offense, there was always someone that would take offense to her inability to speak to their liking. Most of the time Lin Ming simply ignored them, walked away, or perhaps slapped them.

But she couldn’t do that now. She had to play the part of refined representative of the Songxiao sect of Jinghai. Or not had to - neither Song Lan or Xiao Xingchen would care how she acted - but she wanted to. She wanted to be the better person that they believed she was.

“I heard you earlier,” the man was saying, the smile on his face slimy. That was the only word Lin Ming could think of to describe it. “You’re new, I can tell, you must not know how important first impressions are.”

The ‘earlier’ had been her promising to Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen that she would be fine, that she could handle herself, and she had spoke only to drive home her point. She didn’t regret it but now she was realizing nothing was around the other sects and everything would be used as a weapon.

“Come on. You don’t want to be rude, do you?”

Lin Ming felt as if she was a child being scolded. It made her cheeks hot, made her want to spit in his face like she would if they were on the street. She curled her fingers into fists inside her sleeves and started to move past him. 

He grabbed her arm.

“Ah, ah, don’t leave.” That smile was still on his face. “I wanted to talk.”

Ling Ming wanted to faint. At the best of times, she hated to be touched, especially by strange men, and this was certainly not the best of times. She looked down, willing him to go away before she made a scene.

“Just one word or people might think your sect encourages rudeness, Xiao-furen,” he said.

Looking back up, her mouth opened slightly; she wasn’t sure if she was more offended by the implication she could speak on command or by being called ‘furen’ or that he had decided to attach Xiao Xingchen’s name to her. 

Sect Leader Yao seemed to take this as her conceding to him and smiled, patting her shoulder condescendingly. 

“That’s it,” he said slowly, increasing his volume as if that would help. “Go on, you can do it.” 

She moved back, raising her hand, thinking that she would apologize later to Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen for punching another sect leader but she wouldn’t have to. The black strands of Song Lan’s whisk met the back of Sect Leader Yao’s hand with enough force to redden it. She felt Xiao Xingchen’s hands on her shoulders, pulling her back towards him.

“Do not touch her like that, Yao-zongzhu,” said Song Lan, voice full of frost. 

The man pulled his hand back, shaking it slightly.  

“You!” He raised his voice for a moment and then seemed to think better of it. “You clearly are new. I was only trying to get her to speak. I meant no harm for you to react so harshly.”

“She doesn’t speak. She can’t speak.” There was an unmistakable edge of anger to Xiao Xingchen’s words that Lin Ming had never heard before as he pulled her closer. “You wouldn’t ask me to describe how something looks, would you?”

“That’s not the same,” stuttered Sect Leader Yao.

There was no hiding the look of disdain on Song Lan’s face.

“It’s exactly the same,” Xiao Xingchen said. “Now that you understand, I trust that you won’t bother her again.” 

Clearing his throat, Song Lan added, “I believe an apology is also in order.”

The tension in the air was thick and Lin Ming felt a weird mix of fading panic and elation. Sect Leader Yao looked between the three of them, Song Lan still holding onto his whisk, Xiao Xingchen with his hands still on her shoulders. 

“I apologize if I caused you any offense,” he said to Lin Ming. He flapped his wide sleeves, the haughty look on his face uncertain. “If your... sect wishes to make a good impression, perhaps you should learn some decorum.” 

Song Lan rolled his eyes, mouth pressed into a thin line.

“We’ll take that into consideration, Yao-zongzhu,” said Xiao Xingchen and Lin Ming could hear the smile in his voice and knew what he meant was ‘I will forget all about you five seconds after you walk away’.

Something about the offended look on Sect Leader Yao’s face said that he knew it as well. He turned away from them in a huff, muttering to himself about young people and disrespect. Hidden inside her sleeve, Lin Ming made a rude gesture at his retreating back, despite the tears that were stinging her eyes and the shaky way she was breathing.

As soon as he was gone, Song Lan turned to her, hand on her arm, concern painted across his face.

“Are you alright?”

She nodded, fumbling for the bell and ringing it once. The concern didn’t leave his face. On her shoulders, she felt Xiao Xingchen tightened his grip. 

“You’re crying,” he said. “I can feel it. Do you want to leave? We can go somewhere. Tell us what you need.”

Lin Ming wiped her face, nose scrunched up in mild frustration; she didn’t mean to cry but it had been stressful. More than that, there was a feeling of happiness that was stuck in her chest, seemingly out of place. She took a step back and already Xiao Xingchen was holding out his hand. 

I’m alright, she wrote, mouthing the words so Song Lan could follow along. No one has ever stood up for me like that before. I--

She paused. 

Thank you.

“Ah.” Xiao Xingchen smiled and pressed his free hand against the side of her face. “Of course we would, there’s no need to thank us.”

To him, it was a simple fact, as sure as winter turning into spring, and she knew that but even after all this time, there was still something foreign about being cared for and she wasn’t sure there would ever be a day it didn’t make her chest ache slightly. Song Lan watched her, eyes moving across her face, reading her, and wrapped his fingers around her wrist gently.

“You can take care of yourself, we know, but you don’t have to, not anymore. Not with us.” His mouth twitched, affection clear in his expression. “You certainly don’t need to punch anyone.”

Xiao Xingchen laughed, loud and clear. 

“Was she about to punch him?” he asked, still laughing. 

“She was. I don’t think he realized, either.”

“Perhaps next time we should let her,” said Xiao Xingchen, pressing a kiss to her forehead. 

“Xingchen.” The name was a sigh, full of feigned disappointment that only grew when Song Lan caught Lin Ming’s grin as she nodded in agreement. “Don’t encourage her.”

“I won’t, Zichen.” He smiled. “Besides, I know you’d rather be the one to do so.”

“Xingchen.”