.⋆˚₊‧ entering..

however, it barely feels like you're sharing a home with him at times. as more often than not; he returns home after you fall asleep and leaves before you arouse from your slumber. so, when you're sitting awake in your and your boyfriend's shared bed and you suddenly hear creaking at the front of the house, your curiosity is heavily peaked.

you can hear the harsh sounds of a sneznayan blizzard become loud, both the strong winds and snow crashing down on to the earth mercilessly as you slip off the bed. your toes gently hitting the cool wooden flooring in an attempt to not gain your boyfriend's attention. quietly dragging your blanket off the bed, and wrapping it around yourself with only your head and the strands of your hair sticking out.

the first few steps you take are calculated and careful, only putting the weight of your body down when you're sure it's a plank of wood that won't squeak. and while still careful, the next steps you take are more confident—navigating the floor as if you were a seasoned adventurer from the adventurers' guild until you get to the bedroom door. only taking an ever-so-small breath of relief as your eyes gaze through the crack of the door. your eyebrows furrowing when observing your orange-haired man sprawled all over the couch. his chest moving up and down as if he had been chased all the way home.

you know that checking on him from a far should of been it, yet the rest of your actions are your body's doing. seemingly moving on its own as your hand pushes the door in front of you open. only to reveal a dimly lit living room and a trail of footprints starting at the front door to ending at the couch. the couch placed not far from the right of the entrance.

a split second later, your boyfriend is now staring at you. his head upside down from your view touching the back of the couch as he looks at you with a look of both shame and panic. however, you only look back blankly before moving towards him.

"move over," you whisper, your hands gesturing to his arms laying of both armrests.

you internally giggle at the way he swiftly shuffles at your request, acting as if you were an higher up of his. ajax still stares at you with his ocean blues, now hidden by the dark of the night as you sit beside him. the blanket that once was wrapped around you now spread across both yours and his lap to share the warmth.

yet, he still says nothing-waiting for you to make your move so he can counteract yours.

"love, is this the time you've been coming back," you ask, looking away from your lap to look at him however your eyes widen at the sight of him.

"your bleeding," you say softly, your hand reaching out to the red on his sleeve but he moves away.

"babe, it's dark. it's probably from the blizzard."

"don’t lie."

you push your fingertips further, breaking through the atmosphere to touch the dampen surface, "wait, ow... be careful." he winces, his tone becoming softer.

"alright, alright, i may have got ahead of myself," ajax chuckles. your eyes explore his body—taking notice at the slight rips in his clothing and the ever growing spots of bloods seeping through the fabric, the more notable ones at his side and all up his right arm.

"lift your arms up," you yawn as you reach to unbutton parts of his shirt.

sounds of your boyfriend's attire rustling break the air as he shifts around, though his movements short and unsure. you can feel him sucking sharply in a breath as you place your fingers under the shirt in order to lift it over his head. quickly tugging up on the fabric as gently as you can to lessen the pain. ajax's arms then lower as to make the rest of the process less difficult and awkward.

it's when you stare at your boyfriend's shirtless body, then your blank expression breaks slightly and your breathing halts. it hurts you a little that he's being hiding this from you. the scars. the ones scattered all over his torso, ones that blend in with his freckled and tattered skin. the ones that you want to touch and caress. yet, as you reach his untouched shoulder the moonlight shines onto your face, and you think that ajax has seen the look in your eyes.

"i'm sorry, love. i.." he says reaching out for your hand before wincing once again.

"right," you exclaim, pulling your hand back, remembering that you should patch him up. "hun, where's the bandages?"

"under the coffee table," he sighs.

you look to front of you to not only see the bandages but a pack of cotton balls and a bottle saline laying right where he said. how did i not notice something like that? you think to yourself.

you pick up all three, place them down on top of the table and then take a cotton ball out of the packaging and the bottle of saline solution. soon after, you put the cotton on top of the open bottle before tipping it upside down. the ocean smelling liquid swishes around inside until you quickly flip the bottle back up and place it back up onto the wooden table.

you turn your eyes back to your lover, seemingly more relaxed when you first approached him in his weakened state. your eyes tracing his slouched shoulders and the way his body has now ensconced into the cushion. his heavy dark-blue eyes stare back through messy hair as your movements break through the air, your hand shifting towards one of the wounds on his arm.

the motion is soft as the soaked cotton meets the injury-trying to be as brief and gentle as possible to lessen the man's pain. yet despite your efforts, he still flinches away from the former ball of fluff, softly hissing under his breath as you continue disinfecting the gash.

"what happened?" your voice, earnest, while you replace the blood covered cotton ball for a new one-moving further down his arm to clean the others.

he sighs defeated, "what can i say? people truly hate debt collectors," he jokes. "no, but i got unlucky and provoked the company the fatui had been funding for years. there may have been one or two payments in the past, yet we haven't gotten any payments back on the last several months. what i didn't anticipate was how strong their men were as a whole."

the orange-haired man's chest bounces up and down as he tells the story as if was an adventure book, smiling at the fight. he's quick to point out where he got the wound from when you clean them up. you notice it distracts him from the pain of it and it's not long before all the tension in the air dissipates. your smile soft against your lips as two of you talk until your up to the last of his wounds to bandage.

you squint at the slash on his forearm, the roll of gauze in hand as apply the dressing on top wound before starting to secure it. the skin between your eyebrows beginning to crease from your state of concentration.

"what's on your mind, my dear?" ajax hums.

"nothing important," you say, an obvious lie on your part. he laughs inwardly, "come on, love. you know i don't just ask questions for the sake talking. talk to me," he whispers, his head becoming closer.

you only let out a rather large breath of air through your nose. actively pausing the wrapping of bandages to think of what to say—wanting to get the right message across towards your concerns about him and the two of you. the moon shining bright out the window as you find the right words.

"i guess..." you start, accidentally fumbling with the gauze, "i want you to be more honest with me."

"I don't want to be someone you hide from, ajax. i want you to rely on me. i know i'm not strong in the way you are, but i don't want to live knowing that there's a truth you won't tell me," you express, your hand grasping onto his.

the skin is rough and vein, yet ajax’s hold on you is tight as your thumb slides over his skin. and still, his grasp is unsure— shaky even as he shares a worried look with you.

"and what if you don't like the the side i hide?" you lover says reluctantly, his breath nearing your neck

you gaze up, "i couldn't imagine a world where i don't come to love you," you reply through loving eyes, your hand coming up to cup his cheek before kissing the corner of his lips.

"ajax, i want you to trust me with all of you. your scars, your secrets, your thoughts—even the unpleasant ones. all of it. so, please, don't hide, my love." your words flow as naturally as your tears on face.

yet as they roll into the corners of your mouth, all you can taste is the bittersweetness of the night before the feeling of ajax's soft lips connecting with your own is the sole thing that consumes you. you can only smile as you bathe in the sensation of his love on yours.

do not copy of repost any of my works.

a shiver runs through your body as you leave, the bathroom being considerably warm from your presence, a sharp contrast from the coldness of the rest of your house. nonetheless, you continue towards the other side of the house-diverting your body around the odd decorations that have suddenly appeared over the many months. your eyes shift at the many tables and stand around your house, searching for your handbag, seemingly placed carelessly from late last night.

yet, there was a particularly new scent in the air as you finally spotted it. you waft it in, the smell bringing you comfort. ah, coffee.

evidently forgetting about your bag or the need to get to work on time, you make your way to the kitchen. your eyes wandering around the corner to find your lover, in a pair of shorts and a loosely fitted, black tank top. the curves of your lips turning upwards as you watch him from afar, his fluffy grey hair in front of his eyes as he sleepily sips from his mug.

alhaitham takes several moments before he recognises your presence-finding you in the corners of his eyes as he rubbed his eyes open. his hair tucked to the sides of his face before pausing when you catch his eye.

"good morning to you, too." his croaky morning voice travels across the room.

you giggle at the display. you're quick to leave your leaning spot as you step towards your boyfriend. the sound of the mug vibrates in your ear as it's placed down on the counter in front of alhaitham, seemingly waiting for your embrace.

as you close the distance, your arms wrap themselves around your lover's neck like muscle memory. the muscles in your arms receive a satisfying stretch, in which you sigh. with the little space between you two, you stare up at him— the point of your noses closing the gap between. eyes glazing over another you gaze at his crimson-turquoise eyes as he stares back into you, his gaze softer than his usual, sharp look.

"good morning, my love," you hum, your voice resembling a honey-smooth memory.

alhaitham's hand wrapped around your lower torso, one of his hands rubbing up and down your back while the other remains at rest. his body swayed to the quiet atmosphere of your home, his eyes blinking slowly.

your boyfriend eyes open once again, this time intently staring at your attire. a sudden frown now on his thin lips.

"are you leaving for work already?"

oh!

"right. unfortunately so," you voice with a bit of reluctance in your tone-your head turning away from him before returning. "um, well i had to head off in like a minute ago, so i suppose i have some time to spare."

"habibti, what do you mean you had to leave–"

before he can finish, your lipstick-covered lips are on his. the lingering, bitter taste of coffee staining his lips as your right hand leaves his neck to cup his cheek. yet alhaitham becomes the one to deepen the kiss his tongue sliding into your mouth, your tongues twining around another. you pull away from the passionate kiss, your eyes now open as you observe your haitham's expression of longing. is that puppy eyes you see?

"okayy, maybe just one more," you say, your other hand now cupping his other cheek as you pull his face towards your lips.

your first attack is his cheekbones continuing to say 'one more' before leading to his forehead and some of his cloudy, grey hair, marking him with your lips. your lips' next destination his tall nose, both the tip and the bridge. unable to hold back, your continuous giggles fill both yours and his pair of ears as your knees bend slightly from your enjoyment. meanwhile, alhaitham is bathing in the attention you're showering him with, although the growing heat against his cheeks only seems to be getting hotter.

your tiny giggles vibrate in alhaitham’s ears and in his heart as you speak, “okay, this one is the final kiss,” you declare. your tone is playful as you pull him into a kiss—a light airy one, a peck on the lips.

after, your hands slide down from his face and to his forearms, gripping them softly as you step back. you observe alhaitham, his slouched, sleepy figure is no more-now replaced with a flustered mess of a man avoiding your gaze. the rest of his body, hot and still half-asleep from your affectionate attack. a breathy laugh escapes you, staring at the many kiss marks you've stamped onto the many angles of your face.

"i suppose, my spare minute it up, how unfortunate. i'll see you when home, lovely. miss me on you day off will, ya?"

❈ KAMISATO AYATO

the light smell of rain after a shower always seemed to bring a certain amount of comfort to your soul. the world becomes a quiet place whenever it makes its entrance, humans squirm at the thought of getting spattered on without their permission. it's a fun thought, however you are the same, you are human. as you, yourself, have waited for the rain to go on its way before going out on rather cut-short list of errands in inazuma city.

even after the length of your patience no longer has to stretch, the constant, stable sound of droplets has made you rather sleepy. perhaps, you should have listened to ayato when he suggested a indoors day together, covered in several blankets and the duvet, sharing each other's warmth through the snuggling. and while you did indulge for two hours, max, you couldn't help but twitch at unsolved problems you've yet to finish. the guilt of it eating you whole as you silently rolled off your futon placed on the floor and onto the tatami mat. your footsteps light and feather like as you dressed yourself before sitting down to watch the rain.

you sigh, pushing yourself up onto your feet and turning way from the door you've been waiting to leave since afternoon. your cold feet hit the floor quietly as you make your way around the kamisato estate and into the room you and your husband shared.

your breath hitches, your body tensing at the sight of the silky, ruffled, pastel-blue of his hair. ayato's back facing away from your view, the blankets covering everything below his shoulders. perhaps it's a guilty pleasure of yours

-staring at your husband-yet it's the rare moment you stop to savour. the vulnerability of it all. the less ambitious side of him, the man who sits and has all the time in the universe for his loved ones. you love that he shares it with you, you adore it.

you take a step forward towards ayato, only for him to stir in his sleep. the sound of a soft, throaty groans eluding him followed by a series of subtle shifts in his positions. unable to keep yourself from looking, you find him continuing to move until your lover has turned himself facing you. ayato's pale complexion staring back at you as an arm escapes the covers. he reaches out, reaching to you that no longer lies by his side.

your husband resumes his seemingly agitated fusses, his breath slows as his eyes begin to open. with ayato's head slightly lifted above he squints up at you. stares up at you. confused, his hand lazily placed in your usual spot.

your lover whines, "dear, what are you doing?" you tilted your head, playing coy, "what ever could you mean, my love?"

a sigh, an unappeased one left his pink lips as his ocean deep eyes gazed at you. his pastel-blue strands of hair falling over his eyes as ayato spoke.

"i refuse to believe that you're going out, not after noon." ayato's figure more up right as disapproves of what is to come.

you only hum, "so, what if i am? and what is it you're willing to do to get me to stay?"

you slid to your knees, your knees feeling the warmth of the futon as you close the gap between the two. two pairs of eyes now level with one another, ready for a trade.

"oh? and i thought i would be getting compensation for the time i lost without you by my side. yet, you want something in return for your absence," ayato pondered.

somehow, it has become your responsibility to be as your husband's side and fairly so. he says it as if it's your duty, as if the only person in the world who can is you. and your glad your husband has a good head on him, as he would be correct. it's yours for the taking and it will always be closed for anyone else but you. that you're sure of.

"¡ suppose, i could indulge in a little compensation," you answer reaching out to ayato's chin, taking it between your index and your thumb.

and then you bring your lips quick and close to his cheek before kiss his plumb, soft skin. you pull away, yet before ayato can get another word in you kiss his other cheek, and then under his eye. your lips littering as many kisses as you can before you run out of breath.

you take a shaky inhale, your fingers shooing the hair from your face. seeing past your hand, you watch a luminescent smile seep through ayato's metal, cold exterior. his rounded cheeks painted over with pink watercolours, his eyes forever an ocean-like blue.

"there," your chest continues to raise and lower, gradually returning to its usual pace. however, with ayato your 'usual' tends to vanish with just simple touches. "is this compensation enough for you, my lord?" irony coiled around your tone.

ayato stares into you, his eyes laced with sincerity, "i believe the rightful compromise is your return, my love." your heart throbs in secrecy.

"and i will, hun. i just have to run a few errands, my mind will not rest until i have." just thinking about the return has raised a smile on your lips.

❈ LYNEY

in the many corners of teyvat the world becomes calm during evenings and nights, more bearable for some. however, not one place inside or out can replicate a fontainian night, not to par, not with the same signature. the night is soft, a comforting feeling permanently weaving itself through the dark blue. a renowned chill waves through the air as fontaine and its people are awake for an outing. while the streets aren't busy many stroll on the many streets there are to walk on, usually shopping, dining or visiting what the opera epiclese has to offer. often a show one of its kind, and tonight; lyney the magician.

in your opinion, besides trials, lyney is your favourite stage to watch at the opera epiclese. perhaps it's personal bias as he is your lover and all, yet there is a way he glows on a stage that bewitches your senses, fries your heart and mind into a frenzy of feelings. lyney was meant for the stage, whether it be big or two seats at a dinner table, he was born to be seen. that itself is a hill you're willing to die on.

however, it seems a recurring voice in your boyfriend’s head has allowed him to believe otherwise, even for a singular night. there’s hurt in your core watching it, the uncoordinated rambles leaving his pink lips and the worry in his tone making your eyebrows furrow. the bright lamp lights illuminating both of your faces, however, the intensity of them is more than enough to make you squint. yet, among the rambles you find yourself leaning against a wooden crate backstage and staring at him, his hair unnerve and frantic from constant fingers running through and his forehead shimmering from the anxious sweat.

the magician paces back and forth between two spots, the way he's twisting around in the same spot making you believe that the floorboards may give in before he stops. his thoughts racing out loud he sputters, "—how did i do this before-i swear i wasn't as nervous as last time. do you think i've forgotten something?"

"i think you're forgetting how wonderful of a performer you are, lyney," you say with an aim to comfort him.

his pitch gains height, "but your view of me is different than everyone else! what if can't manage to entertain the audience this time?"

your eyes pause in one place as you continue to follow lyney's stressful strutting. his movements coming to a stop as he plants both the soles of his boots on the ground, his toes facing you. his lovely lilac eyes solely on you, awaiting your response, hoping for a hint of reassurance. a thing that you will gladly grant over and over again.

"sweets, you know very well that you can capture an audience, even with just your smile. you captured me with it." your answer sounded with more hurt in your heart than you would put merit for. yet, you forever wish he could see himself through your own admiring eyes.

"dear, you say it as if i've taken your heart prisoner in," he trails off, his usual, playful tone slowly returning back to the world.

you push off the box, taking several steps forward, your steps causing the planks to squeak. the wood—old and beaten, unafraid of appearances and allowed to be its withered self at the expense of being only for performers, away from the rest of the world.

"oh, but you have, dear. haven't you, lyney?" there's a certain amount of swing in your step as your voice embraces a melodramatic feature.

you observe his unsure expression as you near. unsure of what you mean, unsure of what your planning mind is thinking and unsure of what you're feeling, for your mask of mist is overwhelming.

you stand close to him, only a small gap between your feet, "yet, i must confess i want my heart to be forever yours. don't hold it in the hands i've placed it in. carefully hold it next to yours as i've done with your own." your voice is soft, your fingers delicately guiding themselves to the left of his chest, a palm pressing against the frills and fabric that lay before his heart.

his hazed eyes meet your gaze as you look up, imagining the scent of lavender as you study lyney's gaze. his breath is ragged, your hand moving to the rhythm of his lungs working. your beloved doesn't respond to your request, he doesn't know how. yet, you know he'll follow, even through thin silence and a fluttering breath.

you smile, propping yourself up onto the wooden surface propped up by the wall, a large vanity of sorts. you lift a hand motioning lyney towards you.

"come, let me braid your hair," you say, the topic from before becoming something to now ponder over.

he's quick to move back into you, in between your legs as you comb a hand through his ashy blonde locks. first, a nail runs from his hairline to create a part in his hair, although most of his hair is sectioned off to the side you're not going to braid. you comb another hand through the hair, the strands soft between fingers as you section a part close to his face before splitting it into three. taking one of the outer strands, you lay it over the top of the middle strand before repeating the process several times.

"lyney, my love, could you please turn around," you request, switching hands and tightening your grasp on his hair.

your lover winces and you let out a chesty chuckle as he begins to face you with a pout. you observe the unfinished work placed on the side of his face, before eying him. a sudden urge nudges your mind, yet you indulge by placing a kiss on his cheek and then asking him to turn around for you again.

"h-hey!" he exclaims, pink slightly airbrushed onto his pale cheeks.

you tease some more, looking up at the clock in the corner of your eye; motioning to it, "you choose, you have ten minutes before you're out on stage."

you swear you heard a hushed huff as he faced away from you once again. lyney’s hair is at your disposal as you continue braid, your fingers raking through both his hair and scalp as you continue to intergrade more strands into the singular plait behind his ear. your eyes graze his bare skin—specifically the back his neck and shoulders. lips getting dangerously close, your breath caressing your partner’s shoulder before the two connect in short.

a smile widens on your lips as you feel your boyfriend slightly squirm under your touch. yet, you're inclined to kiss his pretty skin, leading from the outs of his shoulder to the point where his neck and back meet. you pepper many of your kisses until his skin feels feverish. until you have braided to 'til there is only a tuff at the end of the braid.

you tie the hair off, sweeping it behind his ear as he begins to face you, "thank you," he breathes out.

"you'll do great, i promise." you cup his cheek, "your nerves aren't out of the blue lyney, it happens."

you press one more kiss, this time against the plump of his cheek.

"i’ll see you out in the crowd, my love."

you only reply with a smile.

do not copy of repost any of my works.