Chapter Text
Hong Lu's obnoxiously rich background is no secret— well, it never was even before his turn, what with how he announced it so happily and shared stories before they even found out he was part of some big family like the Jia. Since parting from Hongyuan for yet another trip with the sinners, he'd been sharing more stories of his childhood, albeit concerning, and expressing himself more, though never abandoning that smile of his.
This time, however, that smile wasn't just an empty shell, or an attempt to make up for something he doesn't have.
(It never was.)
It takes a while convincing Hong Lu that whatever his family did to him was by no means normal.
(While Hong Lu knows this very well, knowing is different from understanding. Still, in his mind, he finds that the sort of thing done to him was— not okay, per se, but he finds it hard to label as evil.
Not yet, at least.)
It's okay. Healing takes time. Or so he's told.
Even then, he's just so, so, so happy to feel this fluffy, warm feeling of belonging. To slowly take back his agency, make decisions, and be surrounded by the people he loves so much and revere as his new family.
"Oi, rich kid."
"Oh, yes?"
Heathcliff stares at him closely. He's been doing that lately.
(Maybe making sure he wouldn't relapse.)
"Enough thinking," A fruit is thrown into his hands, Hong Lu catches it, though a little clumsily, "Take some."
"Ah, thank you!"
Hong Lu stares at the fruit as if it contained all the questions in the universe— or, more like he thought it would peel itself on its own.
"The hell are you doing?"
He clears his throat.
"It has a pleasant shade, doesn't it? I remember when Xiren used to feed me these during days where I come down with fevers. How nostalgic~"
"Shut up and eat or they over there," Heathcliff gazed towards Rodya and Don Quixote who were having the absolute time of their lives, (Don being covered in orange juice,) "Will end up finishing everything before you manage to snatch a bite."
"Mhm! I'm glad they're having fun."
Where's the plate? Oh, here it is.
Hong Lu sticks a fork into the fruit, not without it almost rolling into his lap though.
"..."
"..."
He feels someone stare at him from his side.
"What are you doing."
Juice spurts out of the orange, spilling all over the plate. Some of it gets on Hong Lu's sleeves, but he doesn't mind.
"Hey."
"Hm?"
Hong Lu turns to meet Heathcliff in the eyes and— he almost laughs a bit— it's a little comical to see him so wide-eyed.
Though Hong Lu doesn't quite understand why he's surprised.
"I know you're a rich kid. But ain't this—" Heathcliff frantically pointed at the orange that had a fork stuck on it standing upright, "Ain't all of this too much?"
"Fuhu, whatever do you mean, Heathcliff?"
"You're not eating them the right way."
"...Woah, there's a right way?"
Heathcliff covered his face with his hands as he sighed excruciatingly.
"—And THAT is how to peel oranges."
Hong Lu clapped cheerfully, his wet sleeves sticking to his skin. Mildly uncomfortable, but it's okay.
"You're good at this, Heathcliff!"
"It's common sense, you—"
He stops.
"Well..." There's an odd pause that hangs in between them. "Not for you," Not with the way he was raised.
Hong Lu tilts his head. "I suppose so."