Xi Zirui's head snaps up immediately, his eyes taking in Han Yu's rueful smile and tired eyes.
He still looks weak and sickly, but at least he's awake, and alive. Something Xi Zirui should know better than to take for granted.
Han Yu clicks his tongue at him. "What are the tears for? Is Rui-er crying because he knows he's in trouble for enjoying the captured barbarian roleplay too much?"
Xi Zirui chuckles wetly and rubs his eyes with the sleeves of his imperial robes, entirely undignified.
"Are you jealous of yourself again?" Xi Zirui asks, reaching across to comb Han Yu's braids away from his forehead.
Han Yu keeps smiling at him, sweet and indulgent. "I just worry that you like these characters too much, I worry that the real me won't be good enough for you. Whoever that ends up being."
Xi Zirui's hand falters, and his smile slips.