Lan Wangji never let go of his love and his devotion to Wei Ying. He had always kept it close to his heart, trying his best to not show it to anyone, but after Wei Ying's death he buried it even deeper.
His brother knew, of course. There was no way to hide anything from that sorrowful and far too kind gaze so he didn't even bother trying. His uncle didn't want to see the painful truth, so he pretended he didn't and Lan Wangji found enough kindness amidst the bitterness inside of him to play along.
It made everything so much easier, after all. He stayed silent, did his duties, endured the pain in body and soul alike, and clung to the embers of a love never quite realized to go through yet another day. Another year.
His love kept him alive while also keeping him apart from the rest of the world and that was exactly what he wanted. White had always been his color so what if the pale colors he sometimes used to wear had completely vanished from his wardrobe?
Apart from his brother and his uncle nobody knew he was in mourning and would stay so for the rest of his life.
He had resigned himself to the coldness of loneliness, far sharper and cutting so much deeper than even the coldest water ever could, and even found some sort of contentment in life.
Before he'd met Wei Ying he'd fully expected to spend his life alone anyway. It had always been his destiny to stay apart from the rest of the world.
Or so he had thought.
Now there are gentle fingers tracing the scars on his back, soothing the pain and leaving a pleasant haze in their wake. Now there is a voice, constantly talking, filling the silence he had surrounded himself with for sixteen long, unbearable years. There is a smile, more stunning now than it ever was in his most treasured memories.
Color is creeping back in into his wardrobe, he's learning to smile and cry again and loneliness is a concept he can barely grasp anymore.
Not with Wei Ying at his side, not with the fire of a love fully realized roaring inside of him.
Not with the promise of 'Forever, Lan Zhan' branded onto his soul, made visible by the bright red ribbon always tied around his wrist.