Hii! I hope your day is going well!
I've been thinking a lot about Kaeya either dating or with a crush on a Sumeru academia researcher reader who was researching alchemy and mechanics which lead them to take a big interest in Khaenri'ah, since in these topics everything leads to Khaenri'ah. I'm curious about your opinion on how he would react to reader digging all they can about Khaenri'ah and sharing knowledge with him, because they're so excited about research they can't really hold it in.
I guess is this is very hurt/comfort coded with how I imagine it. But I can't really choose which promt fits best. I'm leaning into the 「"I made your tea the way you like it." - "You remembered." - "I remember everything about you."」 one, because for researchers there's no bigger way of loving something than remembering and learning everything about their object of love/interest.
Thanks for all the writing you do, your Kaeya thoughts and writings are always new thinking material, I love that! I wish you a nice summer!!
A/N: Oh, what an interesting ask! You gave me a lot to work with so my brain went a bit wild hehe, still , I hope it’s to your liking!
Kaeya x Reader : Hurt/Comfort fic prompts— [“I made your tea the way you like it.” — “You remembered.” — “I remember everything about you.”]
Kaeya had to admit, he had a thing for scholars.
So earnest. So serious. So lost in their own worlds.
He couldn’t decide if it was envy or fondness that made his heart flutter when he heard the rustle of your academia robes on his blind side, when he saw you hunched over fat books in some empty corner of the Favonius library, your finger tracing the ancient texts while you scrawled your notes in shorthand.
Celestia could crash on Mondstadt, but even then Kaeya doubted you’d spare the burning world a glance.
“Khaenri'ah, huh? You sure know a lot! The legacy of Khaenri'ah is long gone. The sinners are all that's left, and they're not worth mentioning.”
He’d hoped the words, though offered amiably enough while his fingers ran over the grooves of your latest miniature replica, would dissuade your interest with the little sting that had remained.
It wasn’t pleasant, seeing your excitement falter, but delving into the catacombs of Khaenri’ah’s past — and there were many catacombs — was a cursed task.
But you seemed downright obsessed with ruining yourself, weren’t you? Fine, then. Kaeya supposed even ruin needed company; besides, he preferred yours over most.
So, he nodded along, looked forward to your sermons on Khaenri’ah’s obsession with biomimetics and its influence on their constructs, or the calculations and energy required to make bulky Ruin Hunters airborne.
By the fifth principle of mechanics that flew over his head, Kaeya found himself wondering why he listened at all.
His gaze drifted to his drink for only a moment.
The tavern was not the place for physics or energy conversion.
But looking up at you again, seeing the expectation and doubt lingering in your eagerness— painfully earnest— he smiled, raised his glass.
Ah, he was smitten wasn’t he? How could he not be, when you spoke with such animation, gestured with such enthusiasm?
‘Then a toast; to collision theory and turboprop engines!’
‘You’re Khaenri’ahn, aren’t you?’
He didn’t look up immediately, but the fine whetstone halted its screeching.
Kaeya’s back was to you, bare and damp after the duels on training grounds. His shoulders— the right marred till the elbow with mottling scars— were still. But not for long.
He hummed noncommittally and the fine stone screeched along his blade again. ‘Isn’t that curious of you to say?’
‘The eye.’ You point to your own, hand trembling almost imperceptibly. ‘It fits. All of it. The star, the … the symbol! That’s why they have it— the Ruin Guards. They have one eye. And they look like yours!’
‘Ah, so you’ve been paying that much attention to me?’ His laugh, though smooth, was sharp. ‘You know how to flatter a man, (Name).’
The whetstone screeched louder.
‘I know who you are.’ You declare firmly, risking a step forward. ‘Is that why you listened? That’s why you knew all about the Sinners and Rhinedottir’s alchemy, isn’t it? Are you… are you really from Khaenri’ah? Then you know— then you can help me!’
Your laugh is incredulous, your trembling fingers brushing your brow, head reeling with the sheer implications. The sheer opportunities. The sheer knowledge teasing the fraying nerves of your sleepless mind.
‘The texts I found, the ones I had to beg Lisa for, they’re written in Khaenri’ahn. Ella tried to decipher them but she couldn’t— it doesn’t matter, but you can help me read them, can’t you? Won’t you?’
He rose to his feet suddenly, facing you with a piercing smile so quickly that for a moment you doubted if he’d been seated at all. His sword smoothly slid into the scabbard at his hip, the whetstone lay abandoned on the low bench.
‘It’s kind of you to drop in for a chat, but I’m afraid the Knights’ have me for today.’
He brushed past you brusquely, pulling his shirt on as he did.
By the time you’d called out to him, he’d already turned the corner.
He’d considered it, every time he passed by the library. Lingered at the door. Imagined it, you beaming at him, diving into transmutation or whatever else you’d uncovered.
“You’re Khaenri’ahn, aren’t you?”
Then he’d let out a breath, rolled his shoulders back, and continued on his way. Four days now.
So much for being Mr. Cool.
He blinked, shook his head, and leaned forward to scrutinise the board. The words were familiar. He’d strung them up himself, had written every single one of them, but his attention refused to cling to them. Funny, wasn’t it?
In fact, he was just considering a walk in the gardens when the knock rang clearly.
He glanced at the great clock hanging over his desk. It was late into the evening. Scrambling through the clutter in his head, he couldn’t recall any appointments or meetings.
The knock came again, more hesitant, stopping abruptly.
Heaving a quiet sigh, he made for his desk and sat back on his chair, interlacing his fingers and resting his elbows on the desk. The familiar pose he’d worn through countless board meetings. ‘Yes?’
But it wasn’t a dignitary or messenger who stepped inside.
‘(Name)…’ Your name left him in a disbelieving murmur, though he wasn’t sure what was more shocking— that you’d bothered showing up at all, or that you came bearing a tea-set.
You say your greetings, but he didn’t miss your vice-like grip on the tray. By the time you’re halfway to his desk, he’s already hastily swiping away documents and paperweights, setting the candelabra to the side.
You set the tray squarely in the centre of his desk, your head bowed.
For a moment you both just stared at the cups. They were pretty, delicate things — Lisa’s.
The scent wafting from the teapot was unmistakable: Minty Fruity Tea. How could he forget it? The sweet-sour burst was far from the elegant burn of wine, yet he’d drained half the teapot the last time you’d brewed it.
You shift your weight from one foot to the other, hands shoved deep into your pockets.
‘I made your tea the way you like it.’ The words tumble out quickly, like they’d spent enough time fermenting on your tongue.
He nodded, though in all honesty the words only registered when you reached for the pot, dipping the spout over his cup.
‘Sit,’ he gestured to the chair across from him once the tea was poured. You nodded, though sat back perhaps a bit too rigidly.
It would have been sweet, if he hadn’t been rattling his brain for the right words. It turned out he didn’t need them anyway, because the first sip was a cool palm pressed over his aching head.
He sighed once more, though this one was deeper and he felt lighter after. ‘You remembered.’ He smiled faintly, looking up at you.
Earnest. With your faults and your virtues.
You nod. Once. ‘I remember everything about you.’
You raised your hand when he began to reply.
‘I wanted … to apologise. I got excited but… this is sensitive stuff. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I like talking to you.’
Kaeya’s fingers brushed his lips, he leaned forward. You looked straight at the candles, the words spilling.
‘A reaction requires the appropriate activation energy to form products.’
Kaeya’s lips twitched but he didn’t interrupt.
‘Most people I’ve met don’t have that.’ Your knee bounced. ‘There’s no… catalyst in the conversation. No product. I used to hate that, it made me feel… odd. I thought I’d gotten used to it.’ You risk a glance at him. ‘But then I met you.’
Kaeya didn’t touch his tea. His eye solely remained on you, his hand resting over the lower half of his face.
You continue— ‘You’re the catalyst. You… lower the activation energy. There’s … product, a conversation, a… ‘ You swallow. ‘You make it easy … to get the product. I don’t feel odd when I’m with you.’
For a long moment you stare at each other. The clock ticks from above, outside the shuffle of boots against wood comes and goes.
Kaeya stared down at the cup, his head bowed and the back of his hand rubbing his cheek.
Just as you were considering diving from the window, his shoulders began to shake.
He pressed his knuckles against his lips, taking in a sharp breath of air.
Then Kaeya laughed, loud and sudden. Not airy or smooth, boisterous and poorly restrained.
Heat rushed to your cheeks and you rose quickly, but his hand on your wrist stopped you.
‘(Name)—‘ he grinned, his lopsided smile dimpling his cheeks, ‘— I missed you too.’
He stared right back at you.
Your lips rose into a smile, quiet and unsure, but happy. Or at least that’s what you thought of the warmth spreading through your chest.
His face softened, his eye lingering on your lips.
Slowly, his fingers slipped from your wrist.
He stepped away, sitting back on his chair, gesturing for you to do the same.
The flames jittered when he arranged the candles between you two, setting the now empty cups all proper again.
This time, he poured the tea.
‘So,’ he began conversationally, clinking his cup against yours, ‘What’s this… activation energy again?’
A/N: I’m glad you like my work Anon <3 Hope this one delivers as well. (Also I know some concepts are linked more to chemistry, but considering alchemy is considered a pre-cursor to chemistry, I hope that’s alr.
