Fu Jing puts her hands on Xuanyi’s shoulders, her nails digging in with such force that Xuanyi winces.

“Tell me it’s not true.”

Xuanyi stares at her with hollow eyes. “I can’t.”

“Tell me it’s not true,” Fu Jing repeats, her voice cracking.

Xuanyi shakes her head and lowers it, her hair falling over her face, hiding her expression. “I’m sorry.”

Fu Jing’s hands slip down from her shoulders, breaking contact. She staggers back a step like she had been struck, and then stays rooted to the spot, staring at Xuanyi as if she’s been petrified.

“You’re…leaving?” she asks, and she suddenly sounds like a child, her voice small and weak. Pleading.

“I.” Xuanyi swallows. “Yes.”

“Isn’t there anything they can do?” Fu Jing asks, desperate, a drowning person reaching for something to clutch onto.

“I don’t know.” Xuanyi bites her lip. “But there’s nothing I can do.” Her expression clearly says and I hate it.

Fu Jing’s mind races, trying to think of something, a solution, a bypass, but if there’s nothing Xuanyi can do, it’s not like there’s anything that she can do either. And she wouldn’t be just losing Xuanyi, she would be losing Meiqi and Zining too, Rocket Girls would be losing their #1, #2 and #9. How can they possibly recover from that? And how can she possibly recover from losing Xuanyi?

“When do you have to leave?” Fu Jing asks, her voice almost cracking.

“Soon. Tomorrow, probably. Or even tonight.” Xuanyi lowers her head again. “I probably shouldn’t have come here, but.”

Fu Jing stares at her, and this time her gaze changes, turns darker, hungry. They would only have the rest of the day, maybe not even, and who knows when they would see each other next?

Xuanyi looks up, meets her eyes, and Fu Jing sees the same desperate, wanting expression in them. They know that they don’t have much time left, and although a part of Fu Jing just wants to cling to Xuanyi and cry, she wants this too. Wants her. Wants to lay claim to her, hold onto her, even if she knows how futile it all is.

They launch themselves at each other at the same time. Their lips meet, the kiss clumsy in a way it hasn’t been in a long time, as if their mouths have forgotten the feel of the other, hands fumbling as they reach for buttons and zippers, sliding over revealed skin, greedy, frantic.

Fu Jing wants to draw this out, wants to be gentle, tender, the way Xuanyi deserves, but at the same time she’s more than aware of how little time they have. Xuanyi clearly is too, both of them desperate to have each other while they still can.

“Jing,” Xuanyi whispers against her shoulder, muffled against sweaty skin, nails digging crescents into her back. “Jing.” She keeps saying Fu Jing’s name, like she’s afraid she won’t get a chance to again, and Fu Jing closes her eyes, absorbs the familiar syllables and tries not to think about how she might not get to hear them again for a long, long time.

They’re usually very careful about leaving marks, especially in visible places, but Fu Jing can’t quite bring herself to care about that as she a mark right beneath Xuanyi’s collarbone. Xuanyi shudders and opens like she’s about to tell Fu Jing to stop, but all she says is “Jing” again, as Fu Jing leaves another one on her inner thigh. A love bite.

“My turn,” Xuanyi says, tongue flicking out to wet her lips. Her eyes trail over Fu Jing’s body like she’s looking at a rare treasure, and even though they’ve done this many times before, Fu Jing feels like it’s a little like a first and a lot like a last.

She cries, a little, at the end, and hopes Xuanyi mistakes the tears for those of pleasure.

Afterwards, they lay tangled in a heap of sweaty limbs, neither of them making a move to clean up. Fu Jing feels loose-limbed yet heavy-centred, sated and yet unsatisfied. One of her hands is settled low on Xuanyi’s back, the other in her hair, not even , just resting there. She wants to make contact with Xuanyi in as many places as possible, for as long as possible, while she still can.

“Xuanyi.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, nothing. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

Xuanyi turns her head towards Fu Jing, who sees that her eyes look unusually bright.

“Hey,” Fu Jing says softly. “You can cry, you know. You don’t always have to be strong.”

“I promised my fans to not let the bad times show, to only give them my best smile.” Xuanyi’s lip is trembling. “I promised them better times and a stronger me in the future. And now…”

“Those things can still happen,” Fu Jing says with conviction she doesn’t feel.

“And I promised you…” Xuanyi trails off and lays her head against Fu Jing’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she says again and Fu Jing doesn’t know to whom she’s apologizing.

Fu Jing holds her, runs a hand through her hair, and she’s reminded of when they had announced her as #10 and Xuanyi had held her, they had held each other. Fu Jing thought that it meant they would be together, wouldn’t be separated, would have years together by each other’s side. She hadn’t thought that future would be taken away from them so quickly, so cruelly.

“Jing... Don’t cry.” Xuanyi’s voice is somehow both softer and stronger now. “You’ll make me cry too.”

Fu Jing wipes at her eyes. “’M not crying,” she says in a thick voice.

Xuanyi takes her hands and pulls them away from her face. She looks at Fu Jing, intent, like she’s mapping out every facet of her face, memorizing her. Fu Jing knows the feeling; she’s been looking at Xuanyi that way too, carving out an indelible image of her in her memory, one nobody can take away from her, not Tencent, not Yuehua. At least her memory’s Xuanyi belongs to her and her alone, whereas the real Xuanyi never will, not truly and completely.

Fu Jing closes her eyes and feels a tear trickle down her face, followed by the feathery press of Xuanyi’s lips, so light they almost feel like a phantom touch. Xuanyi’s mouth trail down her cheek, jaw, neck and she presses three words against her skin, hot enough to brand her.

Xuanyi gets a text from Yuehua and stares down at her phone, tight-lipped and hollow-eyed. Fu Jing is almost scared to ask her what it says, even though she can already guess.

“Tomorrow,” Xuanyi says. “Meiqi and I will leave tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Fu Jing says, trying to keep her voice steady. “Stay then? Tonight?”

Xuanyi stares at her, and for a moment she’s sure Xuanyi will refuse, and maybe it would be better that way, to tear the Band-Aid off sooner, because it’ll just hurt more in the long run, won’t it?

“Okay,” Xuanyi says, and Fu Jing lets out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “I’ll stay.”

Fu Jing wishes she meant for good, but this is the most she can have for now. “Make sure you wake me up before you leave tomorrow,” she says firmly, “so I can. You know, send you off.” She resolutely refuses to use the words say goodbye.

“It’ll be really early,” Xuanyi says. “Are you sure you don’t want to catch some more sleep?”

Fu Jing looks at her, just looks at her, and Xuanyi’s calm expression crumbles.

“I don’t want to have to say goodbye to you.” Xuanyi’s voice cracks. “Maybe it’ll be easier if—”

“If?” Fu Jing asks, swallowing.

In lieu of an answer, Xuanyi lets her fingers walk up Fu Jing’s arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. “I don’t want to say goodbye to you.”

“Then don’t,” Fu Jing says. “It’s not goodbye, okay? Just see you later.”

Xuanyi gives a wavering smile. “Okay,” she agrees. “See you later.”

Fu Jing grasps her hand and holds it tightly, like an anchor, a lifeline. “Xuanyi,” she says, and just like last time she doesn’t know what to say after. Maybe she doesn’t have anything else to say. Xuanyi’s name is enough.

“I know,” Xuanyi says, curling against her. “Jing, I know.”

“Okay,” Fu Jing says, and draws in a breath like she’s emerging from underwater, the sunshine meeting her face, gentle and warm like Xuanyi’s smile.

Fu Jing is usually a sound sleeper, but she wakes up suddenly and instantly panics when she realizes the other side of the bed is empty. Xuanyi had left without waking her up, she thinks, dread sinking in her stomach like a ship going under. Xuanyi had gone back on her word, something she never does.

“You’re awake.”

Her head whips around, to see Xuanyi standing at the doorway.

“I just went to the washroom.” Xuanyi’s expression is achingly gentle. “You didn’t think I’d leave without saying go—see you later, did you?”

Fu Jing doesn’t reply, can’t, still seized up.

“Jing,” Xuanyi says softly, taking a step towards her, and then another, until she’s at the bed. Fu Jing takes her wrist and pulls, and Xuanyi stumbles, falls into her waiting arms.

“I woke up and you weren’t here,” Fu Jing says, unable to keep the whine from her voice.

“I’m sorry.”

Fu Jing buries her face in the crook of Xuanyi’s neck, taking in the familiar, comforting scent of her. Xuanyi always smells like home to her, even though Fu Jing isn’t sure where that is anymore, where it’ll be from now on without Xuanyi by her side.

“Jing,” Xuanyi says, soft. “It’s not goodbye, okay? Just see you later. There will be a later. I’ll make sure of it.”

There’s steel laced through her voice. Fu Jing can’t help but believe her, although she wonders if that’s just because she desperately wants to. However, Xuanyi has never let her down before, and Fu Jing doesn’t expect her to start now.

“Okay,” Fu Jing says, as they share a kiss, gentle, tender. “Later.”

Outtake:

“You have to take care of yourself,” Fu Jing says. “Don’t drink too much milk tea. Don’t eat too much ramen.”

“Jing, you’re starting to sound like our Calorie song,” Xuanyi says, laughing. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of myself, but you have to too, okay?”

“Okay, I’m still working on getting my abs back,” Fu Jing says, patting her stomach.

“You don’t need abs, you’re beautiful the way you are.”

“Yeah I know, but my fans would really like it if I had abs again.”

“Are you saying your fans’ opinions matter more than mine?”

“Hey, you said it, not me.”

Xuanyi scowls and puts her hands on her hips. “Fu Jing, I hope you’re ready for a night on the couch.”

“Only if you come with me,” Fu Jing says, picking Xuanyi up bridal style. “Oof, you’re heavy, I told you to lay off the milk tea and ramen.” Xuanyi pounds her fists against her arm in retaliation. “Hey, don’t hit me, I’ll drop you!”

She ends up doing that on the bed, and they don’t leave it for quite some time. Fu Jing is spared from the couch after all.

A/N: I wrote this to mend my heart but may have ended up breaking it more. I'm always screaming and/or crying about WXY on twitter so hit me up if you ever want to scream and/or cry with me!