Prompt: Childhoodfriend!Varka x GN Reader
Warnings: angst, emotional reunion, mild violence
tbh I didn't really have that much of an idea on part 2 so I'm sorry if this is kinda trash ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ...
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5 years since you left Mondstadt.
5 years since you left him.
You settled in a small home in Fontaine. Not too far yet not too close— just alright.
Fontaine was… different. Fontaine moved at its own pace—calmer, quieter in a way that didn’t demand anything from you. You found a small home tucked away from the noise. Not too far from the city, not too close either. Just enough distance to breathe.
You bult a simple routine here.
In the morning, you'll either go to the market or fish at the river. Then in the afternoon, you'll take your packed food and canvas to go somewhere— a nice scenery to paint, then you'll go back home before the sun sets to avoid danger.
You wondered sometimes. Not often. Just small thoughts that slipped through when you weren’t paying attention. If he changed. If he still laughed the same way. If he was still around her.
If he was still thinking about you.
Have he noticed you left Mondstadt? Maybe. Or maybe he just didn't care any. Well, there's no point in dwelling about it now.
You didn’t write. Didn’t visit. Didn’t ask. And neither did he.
You were out— finding a perfect spot to paint as usual. You settled on a coast, far enough from the water that the waves won't splash you.
You set down your canvas and tools, taking a moment to gaze at the landscape, letting the wind brush over you.
You failed to notice the time passing as you immersed yourself in filling your canvas and once you finished, only did you then notice how late and dark it already is.
You gathered your things in a haste, knowing it's too dangerous to stay any longer.
You were running down the path when something made you paused.
Hilichurls. Not one— Multiple.
They were blocking your path, slowly closing in on you.
You cursed under your breath, dropping your things as you steadied yourself. You weren’t helpless. Varka used to teach you basic swordsmanship in the past but you rarely have to use it in real life situations.
Summoning your sword, you prepare to defend yourself. You strike. You dodged another strike, barely avoiding it as you moved back.
You were running out of stamina and this wasn't going favorable for you.
You have no time to catch a breath when another hilichurl lunged at you when suddenly—
A sharp sound cut through the air.
You froze, chest rising and falling unevenly as you tried to process what just happened.
Footsteps approached. Heavy. Familiar.
You slowly looked up and you wished to Celestia you shouldn't haved.
Because standing the one Infront of you is no other than the Knight of Boreas.
Your childhood friend. The one you used to love.
Standing there like he’d stepped straight out of a memory you tried so hard to forget.Sword still in hand. Expression tense and eyes looking straight at you.
He looked tired. His hair a little longer but more wild and messy and dark bags under his eyes like he hasn't slept for days.
“…You really haven’t changed,” He spoke then he looked down.
You glanced down. Your arm stung where the creature had grabbed you. Nothing serious.
"You’re hurt,” he noted, immediately going to his knees to asses the injury when you flinched and step back.
You ignored the pain that flashed through his eyes.
"Please..." he whispered, "at least let me help you."
You bit your lip, hating how your too weak for him. Knowing it's futile to argue— you let him hold your arm.
Your breat hitched at the familiarity of his touch. You missed it so much.
That made your chest tighten. You didn’t respond.
"When I heard you left— I... I was— Archons..." His hand was trembling, you noticed.
For a moment, all you could hear was your own breathing—uneven, too loud in the silence that followed.
“…Don’t,” you finally said, blinking your eyes to stop the tears threatening to fall. “Don’t apologize like that,” you muttered, looking away. “You did nothing wrong— It was me who thought things wrong."
"No! You could never be wrong— God no, it was me. I... I thought we were fine. I didn't notice the distance growing between us.. if I knew..." He swallowed before looking back at you.
“You could’ve told me,” he said.
You shook your head. “And say what? That I was watching you fall for someone else?” Your voice didn’t rise, but it sharpened just enough. “That I was standing there like an idiot while you—”
You stopped yourself. Too late.
"Forget it." You tried to yank your arm back but Varka didn't let you.
“No,” Varka said and stood up. “Don’t do that. Don’t say half of it and walk away.”
You laughed under your breath.
“You were happy,” you said again, like it explained everything. “With her.”
You didn’t answer. You didn't need to.
His brows furrowed, confusion flickering across his face.
You have done it. You mentally slapped yourself for letting your emotions get the better of you. You continued to look at the ground, avoiding his stare.
But then you felt a glove hand gently cupping your jaw to make you look at him.
You didn't even realize you were already crying until he wiped your tears with his thumb.
“You spent all your time with her.”
“She was helping with the knights—”
“You looked at her like she mattered.”
“She did matter,” he said. “As a person. As an ally. But that’s not—” He stopped, exhaling sharply. “That’s not what you think it was.”
“…Then what was it?” you asked. Your voice was quieter now.
"Nothing," He said firmly. "There was nothing between us."
"Because all that mattered was you."
"But I was too late to see it," He whispered.
“You stopped writing,” he continued. “You stopped showing up. You were there, but you weren’t… there anymore.”
He closed his eyes. "I know, I didn't mean to— things got busy, messy and I didn't realized. I'm sorry. I— I know I don't deserve it but please, let me make things write. Let me fix this between us." he gripped your hand like he couldn't let go.
You stared at him. At the same boy who once ran to you without hesitation. At the man now standing in front of you—strong, respected, feared— and somehow still looking at you like he might lose everything.
Your fingers twitched in his hold. "Isn't it too late for that?"
You stayed silent. Because you know no matter how long— it wasn't. And he knew that too.
The wind brushed past you both, carrying the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore. The world felt too quiet for a moment like this.
“I left, but I didn’t stop caring. I didn’t stop loving you. I just—” your voice cracked slightly, “—I just didn’t know how to stay and watch you choose someone else.”
“I didn’t choose her," he said almost immediately.
“I was stupid. I didn’t see what was right in front of me.” He brushed his thumb along your knuckles.
A small, broken smile tugged at his lips.
Silence settled again. But this time— it felt different.
“…What happens now?” you asked.
“I don’t know,” He answered honestly. "Let's start again. Start somewhere— something small."
Your heart wavered. Because part of you wanted to say no. To protect what little peace you built. To keep things from breaking again.
But another part— the one that never really left—
“…You’re really bad at giving up,” you murmured.
A faint huff of breath left him. “Only when it comes to you."
You hesitated just for a second.
“One,” you repeated, firmer now. “That’s all you get.”
“I’ll take it,” he said immediately.
And as the wind carried the night forward, with the sound of the sea echoing softly around you—
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