Xingchen's extended hand reaches to hold the opposite arm where he cut himself, not that long ago, at the word possessed, but then his mind catches on to the fact that this is not what Zichen means, and he freezes.

Normally... normally Xingchen would cross the distance between them. Reach for him properly. Ask if he is all right, if they both are.

But the envy that he was barely holding in check uncoils in his gut and constricts his throat as he freezes.

Of course... of course Zichen will want the better version. The one who has not taken his life. The one who couldn't take his actual life, as it is a different world that he comes from.

Of course Zichen deserves the better version.

"Ah." He finds his voice, a little hollow. "That is why you have not returned to me." Not at nights. He tries to swallow the question down, to let Zichen find his own words, but there is so much to keep down. Anger and jealousy and, beneath them, pain. "And do you? Do you want him?"

Shouldn't want isn't the same as doesn't want.