#elliwrites

As much as he loved the rowdy charm of singing and dancing in taverns in exchange for mugs of cider, it was inevitable that such a pace would eventually catch up with him. Those old “daily wages” he had been so used to for so long had been replaced by actual mora and hefty commission fees.

A necessary change once he began a family with you.

But nonetheless, all his exhaustion can be cleared away by spending the rest of the day by being with his dearest family.

And what a wondrous tune his ears were blessed with! Muffled squeals of giggling echoed down the hallway escorted by the frantic pitter-patter of squeaky shoes against the freshly polished floor.

“Papa!”

A small figure lunged straight at his leg and clung to him like a koala. Just as he was about to do his daily uppees and entertain his little angel, the sight of a familiar viridian fabric swallowing them whole caught his attention. The heavy cape was so long it was dragging across the floor.

His little baby looked up at him with their big round eyes that reflected the same vibrant teal hues Venti carried, though the oversized beret on their head threatened to slip down and swallow their tiny nose at any second.

“Sweetie, I still haven’t finished braiding your— Oh, Venti! You’re back already.”

The said man continued gaping down at the toddler then blinked twice before his entire face lit up. Venti squealed and rushed in to scoop them into his arms to pepper their face with a flurry of kisses.

“My oh my, who is this gorgeous little bard standing before me?!!”

Your baby giggled uncontrollably as your husband kissed their cheeks nonstop until they turned as bright and red as sunsettias.

“Very cute isn’t it?” You remarked with an endearing sigh and approached Venti to kiss him on the cheek as a welcome home greeting. “I was just folding your clothes until our dear angel decided to play dress up with all the laundry instead.”

Your husband reciprocated your greeting with a short peck on your lips before shifting his attention back on his child.

He didn't seem to mind the wrinkled state of his cape in the slightest. Instead he adjusted their oversized beret, tilting it to a jaunty professional angle on the child’s head and struck a pose.

"Well, if we have a new lead performer in the house, the old one better start the masterclass!"

Venti began marching around the living room and carried the mini bard like a precious trophy.

A high-pitched shriek of delight emitted from mini-Venti as their tiny hands fisted in his hair while he twirled around the room. The exhaustion that had been sitting on his shoulders just moments ago had vanished and completely forgotten.

You sighed wistfully, placing a hand over your cheek as you admire your family’s laughter beaming in the entire household.

“Who’s the cutest bard in Mondstadt? You are! Yes, you are my little sweet pea!”

Venti cooed, blowing raspberries on their chubby cheek and playfully nipping at the soft marshmallow skin, evidently overwhelmed by an intense adoration he couldn’t resist.

Eventually he came to a halt as his chest heaved from the joyous laughter. He never felt as emotionally high as this. The only time he could recall such a time that came close was when you shared the news to him you were carrying his child.

He would much rather admire in his angel’s absolute cuteness than indulge in dandelion wine at any day of the week. And thank the Seven he hadn’t touched a drop today.

He didn’t want to be a bad influence over them if their father reeks of wine every time he comes home from work. And worst is you wouldn’t let him come near them if you so much as sniffed a single cider on him.

So he had been sobering up and lessening his drinks since the moment he first held this tiny life in his arms. That’s where he realized he never wanted to see their childhood through a drunken haze.

The "Barbatos" known and constantly depicted in the Church of Favonius’s books might have been a creature of divine who loves freedom, music, and wine. But the Venti standing in your living room was more than that.

He lowered himself onto the rug, sitting cross-legged while his little windblume, who was still swimming in the oversized cape, clambered into the crook of his lap.

"You know, I used to think the wind had to keep moving to stay free. But looking at you... I think I’ve finally found a place where I’m happy to just stay still."

Small fingers grabbed a lock of Venti’s glowing hair and firmly tugged it. He didn't wince but merely chuckled. He leaned down and booped their nose with his own.

“Aww, want a similar braid like Papa’s? Mama still hadn’t finished braiding your hair though…”

Venti looked up at you and you didn’t need to ask him any further. You smoothed the skirt of your dress and sat next to them. While your energetic angel was still lost on their own bubble of babbling, he placed them on your lap, and fortunately they didn’t throw a tantrum.

Taking three even strands at the unfinished side, you began to weave them together. To complete the transformation, you took a rubber hair tie and tied off the end of the tiny braid. You tucked it just so, mirroring the way the bard’s own hair framed his face.

When you finally pulled back, a perfect mini-Venti sat in your lap, complete with a heart-melting grin and eyes that sparkled with familiar mischief.

“Oh, my! It’s like staring at my own reflection! I didn’t know the Anemo Archon decided to replace me by a much cuter version of myself!” Venti remarked as he grabbed the end of one of their braids and brushed it against their small nose.

Your child giggled excitedly and reached out to pat his cheeks with chubby hands.

“Look at that,” you mused, brushing a stray hair from their forehead. “So identical that my genes didn’t even try. And I fear this little one might be even more of a troublemaker than the original.”

Venti smirked and wiggled his eyebrows but his face was smothered by your palm instead.

“Don’t even finish that thought.”

A pretty little angel, always showing up to church in dresses that flattered your figure far too well. How did he not know you before? While Venti absolutely could find success with other people if he wanted to, his thoughts were too consumed by you to even consider it. He wanted you and you alone, and he had been consistently approaching and praising your voice in a tireless effort to charm you.

While everyone approached and praised Barbara, the beloved idol deaconess of the Church of Favonius, Venti was the only one who would always make his way toward you after the sermon ended. Sure, there were a few nuns and deacons complimenting your voice and offering kind words about your singing, but most of them were brief. 

Unlike him, he showered you with adoration endlessly. 

You weren’t as popular as the Shining Idol, but he preferred your spotlight stay low, quiet, and unnoticed. It gives him the upper hand, praising you to himself without any nuance of competition. 

No other voices drowning out his.

No other eyes lingering on you.

You were his private miracle. His sacred songbird.

Before the final note of the choir faded, he would be waiting near the pews or lounging casually by the archway. And without fail, the choir group would start whispering and elbowing one another, giggling behind palms the moment the infamous bard sauntered up to you. 

They’ve grown to recognize his face and his presence within the cathedral on Sundays. How this bard always looked at you during the mass, how he’d always praised your voice— not just once, not just lightly but with near-devotional intensity.

And sure enough, a new buzz and chatter reached every corner of the sacristy.

It had become a weekly ritual where Venti would single you out. His visits had become a part of your Sunday routine, and your choir singing had become a part of his, and he certainly wished these would be permanent and be part of your life.

Dahlia, of course, noticed this shift in his own routine, yet he didn’t question it, which the bard very much appreciated. However, if the deacon’s curiosity got the best of him and asked him in one of their nightly drinks, the archon would only shut his questions down as if he didn’t know what his herald was talking about. 

Giving you special treatment? As if! He was merely a bard with a talent in music who found his muse. Where was the special treatment? He wasn’t part of the church choir group. If he was, he would be praising everyone equally— though, he would rather spend some time alone practicing with you. 

Others were too blinded by Barbara’s glittering radiance that they’d rather focus on her charm as Mondstadt’s beloved idol. 

But Venti? 

He noticed the way your voice trembled with sincerity, the way your hands folded gently in prayer, and how your eyes would so often flicker in his direction.

Whenever your gaze met his, he’d offer a gentle smile and a small wave. And like clockwork, you’d flush and quickly avert your gaze, pretending to focus elsewhere.

But sometimes, he’d catch you sneaking a timid glance from the corner of your eye.

And each time, it made his heart flutter crazily.

You didn’t seek applause. You didn’t crave attention.

And that made him all the more attracted to you.

This Sunday's gospel was the same as any other— except you were given the special role to sing a solo passage. Venti was excited when he heard about this from Dahlia. He came early, far too early, where he lingered around the cathedral and watched everyone prepare. His gaze inevitably found you in the corner, practicing your part with quiet focus, your hands clutched at your cross necklace as you mouthed the verses under your breath.

So when the mass began, Venti sat near where the choir group was situated and closed his eyes and focused on your voice singing your devotion to him. His heart fluttered and he calmed down the heat coiling in his groin. He honed in on your face, hoping you’d see him from your vision.

And it certainly worked. 

Your eyes flickered quickly to his and he didn’t miss how your cheeks reddened up, how your body stiffened to see him there watching you, how your shoulders locked into place as if caught doing something intimate. But you had good control over your nerves; not once did you falter or miss a note during your solo piece. You kept your eyes forward, choosing to focus ahead and avoid his gaze so you wouldn’t get distracted and ruin the solemn prayer.

This should be normal for you that Venti always comes to the church on Sundays, always finding a reason to sit close, always has some flattering comment after. And yet, you still found yourself flustered every time his eyes locked onto you like that.

He listened to your ethereal songs not just with his ears, but with his entire being.

Your voice wasn’t meant for the congregation. It was meant only for him, the Anemo Archon, Barbatos. You were worshipping him, glorifying his very divine being. 

And the Anemo Archon heard the hymns of his pretty angel.

Yes, that’s it. That’s his angel, singing his name in the most divine of disguises.

The moment the mass ended, Venti was already waiting for you in his pew, smiling almost proudly. He ignored the hellos and good mornings from the sisters. Talking to you was much more important. 

"Ahh, another wonderful gift the winds have brought to this humble cathedral!" he sighed dreamily, clutching your hands to his chest as if he was overcome by your melody. "Surely, surely, the Anemo Archon is delighted in hearing a sweet and pretty angel like you sing his name, my songbird."

You laughed and waved him off, flustered. “Please, your singing is leagues better than mine.”

But Venti only leaned closer. “Better? Me? Not even close! Compared to you, my voice is but a breeze. But yours is the hymn the heavens echo.”

Once again, he started listing praises that put you on the spot as the rest of the choir members watched and teased you as they left, whereas the new members watched in curiosity while they restored.

"Your pitch, your control, the way your notes carry in the rafters like birds lifted in the wind… Ah, I could list your charms forever and still fall short!"

You fiddled with the cross hanging on your neck, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear as you averted his gaze with flushed cheeks.

“Th-thank you, really… It means so much that a bard like you likes my voice.” You tried to cut him off with modesty, but he gently shushed you with a feather-light touch on your lips.

"No, no, don’t be humble. That voice of yours is sacred. It’s not just beautiful, it’s blessed. If I were the Anemo Archon…” he paused briefly before a knowing smile tugged at his lips. 

"…I’d have you sing for me and me alone.”

His thumb traced your bottom lip, gazing deeply at the pink lip gloss that tinted your plump lips. He wondered what it would taste like to kiss you here right now in his own sacred place.

You smiled bashfully and stepped back as you covered your flushed face with the back of your hand. “You flatter me, Venti. I was just doing my part to sing praise to Lord Barbatos.”

Your fingers still clung lightly to the cross around your neck, trying to ground yourself and keep yourself calm by all this attention and praises he kept showering you with. It was more intimate ​​​​​​than usual and it always caused your stomach to flutter in delight.

Venti set his hand back to his side and neither of you said anything for a moment. His viridian eyes moved up and down your body, observing your clothes, your hair, and your movement, letting all of these details be engraved in his mind. 

That is until you break the silence. “Um, I’ve got some errands to do, so…”

Venti panicked, realizing he had been staring at his angel for too long than he realized. Before you could walk away, he grabbed at your hand, and it sent a pathetic rush of heat to his lower stomach.

“Just a moment. I have a question for you I’ve always been meaning to ask…” His gaze flickered to your cross and then back at your eyes that looked up at him with innocent curiosity as your lashes fluttered with each blink.

Archons, he wanted to eat you up. 

“Do you ever wonder if the Anemo Archon hears you more clearly than anyone else?” he said more softly, his voice dipping into something low and intimate.

You blinked, surprised by the sudden seriousness of his tone.

“I…” You hesitated, the question strange and unfamiliar. “I just sing with all my heart. If everyone liked my singing, then that’s enough for me. But…” you paused, fiddling the cross around your finger as you looked across the altar and stared at the relics displayed. “It would be nice if the Anemo Archon heard me and liked my voice.”

Venti's expression shifted, his eyes turning up in delight just barely.

“Of course he loves it, angel. That’s why it reaches him.” He leaned in again, just close enough for his breath to brush against your ear. “And it drives him wild, you know.”

You looked up at him with wide eyes, not quite sure if he was teasing you again. He only grinned, stepping back with a playful twirl of his cape. 

“Ah, but I’ve said too much! You’ll think I’m just some overly romantic bard. I shall not take any more of your time.”

He stepped aside, letting you pass. Your shoulders brushed his slightly, leaving behind a faint trace of your perfume. It smelled sweet, clean, and something soft like lilies kissed by morning dew. He inhaled subtly, letting it linger in his senses.

With a playful wave, he called out, “May the Anemo Archon bless your day, my sweet angel!”

You turned briefly, cheeks still warm. “You too, Venti!”

The endearing nickname made your heart flutter as you stepped through the exit of the great cathedral. The doors shut behind you with a deep echo, sealing off the world outside.

Venti remained where he was before dropping into the pew with a soft sigh. He tilted his head back, letting his eyes slip shut as his arms stretched along the backrest. He glanced over and noticed a heap of cream-colored fabric resting on the pew. Curious, he reached over and dragged it closer.

He quickly recognized it as yours. The cardigan you wear on cold days, discarded right next to him. His eyes sparkled and his lips turned to a wide smile. 

What a coincidence. He could use this as an excuse to show up at your house! The ever-helpful and kind friend personally delivering your lost belonging. Surely that would have you fall for him then!

But before he could do that, a strange impulse overtook him. He pulled the cardigan up to his face and proceeded to inhale deeply through his nose.

Your scent hit him like a kick to the nuts. A wave of heat rushed in his face and began to spread all the way down to his feet. 

Barbatos have mercy, you smelled heavenly. He's managed to catch whiffs when you passed by him, but this is something else entirely.

He buried his nose into the fabric, groaning softly as he surrounded himself in your smell. He imagined it was your hair, burrowing into the sweet strands and combing through it with his fingers. How lovely that would be, to actually touch you with his own hands.

Your lips were a temptation the god could scarcely resist. How soft, plump, and pink it was that lingered on his thumb when he traced them. For you to wear such alluring makeup that made his cock hard must’ve been an invitation. A silent beckon to his sinful desires. 

The silence within the cathedral was loud as Venti groaned and pressed his face deeper against the cotton fabric.

Faintly, he heard a voice in his head. A whisper. Not through lips, but through soul.

Your voice, not in song, but in prayer.

“Please hear me, Anemo Archon… I only want to sing well for you. Please let my voice reach you in the next ceremony...”

Venti’s breath caught, and a strong cold shiver ran through his entire body. He moaned and bucked his hips, inhaling your cardigan’s aroma deeply, engraving the perfume and scented detergent you used to wash your clothes.

How precious. How earnest.

You weren’t singing, but he could still hear the melody behind your words.

He brought a hand down between his legs, groaning, and throwing his head back as he dropped the cardigan over his lap. A small drool slipped from the corner of his lips as he panted.

“You already have, darling.” He answered back to nobody but to your prayer. 

He knew the risks.

He knew Fatuis were scattered all over Teyvat. But with the Fourth Harbinger’s headquarters located so near to their accommodations— thanks to the Traveler’s heads up— how could he stay calm at the possibility you might be kidnapped? Worse if killed?!

A cold pit of dread dropped in his stomach. He glanced at the window once more. 

Dammit, dammit, dammit! He should’ve trusted his gut not to spend the anniversary at Fontaine! The Fatui had already taken his gnosis and clearly they knew about his intimate relationship with you! What were the odds the Knave had taken you as a hostage?!

Venti grumbled and pulled the roots of his hair tightly. 

This won’t do. He couldn't just stand here and twiddle his thumbs waiting for your return. In the blink of an eye, he snatched the cape draped over the bed and stormed out of the room.

—

Thirty minutes had passed and the aquabus hadn’t arrived yet. You watched passengers step off and board the vehicles in their respective lanes as time dragged on.

Aquabuses came and went for other routes, their docks briefly filling with chatter before emptying again. With each departure, it was a reminder that yours had yet to appear.

“Attention passengers, the aquabus for the Clementine Line will be departing shortly. Please do not step beyond the yellow lines and wait for the boat to settle. Again, passengers, the aquabus for the Clementine Line will be departing shortly. Please do not step beyond the yellow lines and wait for the boat to settle. Thank you.”

You looked down at your purse, glancing at the single loop ring hanging on the side. You frowned, clenching the strap tightly against your fist that your knuckles turned white.

Just wait a little longer… It’ll be here anytime as long as I don’t take my eyes off the lane.

Tapping your feet impatiently, you fought the stinging sensation in your eyes. You rubbed them harshly and sniffled when your mind spiraled through every terrible possibilities what could have happened to your precious treasure.

Somebody might have stolen it already. Heck, a child might have taken the small figurine by now thinking it was just a discarded toy. You couldn’t possibly go back to the hotel without it— not without that small clear display bag you always bring with you. 

Venti would notice something’s off the second you stepped into the room. He had a bard’s eye for detail when you’ve been together for a long time, and he knew how much that item meant to you. He’d immediately caught the empty space where it used to hang and see the look on your face.

A bead of sweat rolled down the side of your face as your heart raced. 

Calm down! It has to be there! It has to!

But what if it’s gone? Permanently?

You shook your head vigorously, trying to rattle the intrusive thoughts out of your skull.

No, you wouldn't let yourself believe that. You gripped the strap of your purse again, your eyes darting toward the empty water lanes. The aquabus for Navia Line was taking too long. Every second spent standing on this station deepened the anguish. All the memories in that little figurine— even the mundane ones wherever you go— were tucked inside that missing case.

“Please just let it be where I dropped it!” You whispered under your breath, a small prayer to the archon who was likely napping back at the hotel, oblivious to your panic.

You closed your eyes, picturing the cafe where you’d stopped for coffee. Had you left it on the chair? Or had the strap snapped when you rushed to catch the first bus? No, no, you certainly remember it was still tucked in when you were hastily reaching for your wallet. 

Did it drop when you were strolling at the Fountain of Lucine? No! The purse was still heavy when you took out your journal! 

It has to be on the aquabus when you step off! The thought of a stranger’s hand closing around your treasure made your stomach churn with a hollow nausea. That gift was so intimately tied to your life with Venti.

If you lost this, you weren't just losing an object; you were losing a piece of the relationship you cherished most.

You glanced up at the great clock towering over the station.

20:50

The numbers blurred. You hadn’t realized time had flown so quickly just by standing.

“S-Sir, please calm down! The aquabus for Navia Line hasn’t arrived yet!”

“Calm down?! How can I calm down if my fiancée’s lost in Fontaine! Are there no other aquabuses available at this hour?!” A voice snapped somewhere.

The commotion echoing from the other side of the station pulled you sharply from your daydream. Turning your head, a flash of azure caught your eye. You instinctively flinched at the sight as your heart leaped into your throat.

“It’ll arrive in ten minutes, sir. For now, please try to be patient!” The staff assistant replied as he tried to appease the frantic bard. “And regarding your concern for your missing fiancée, you may report it to the Maison Gardiennage so they can assist you with a formal search.”

“Are there other ways to get there? Look, I need to get to the Opera immediately before she—“ 

Venti’s words ceased immediately when his familiar viridian eyes locked with your own [eye color] ones. All the franticness in his eyes dissipated and was replaced with sheer relief.

“Sir…? Is something the matter?”

Venti blinked, the world around him finally coming back into focus. He took a shaky breath and returned his attention to the staff.

“Oh— uh, sorry. I found her.” His voice dropped an octave as he smoothed down his cape with shaking hands. "My sincere apologies for inconveniencing you.”

The staff member let out a long, weary sigh as Venti turned away, his focus entirely narrowed down to you. He didn’t take a second thought to march to where you were. 

“Venti? W-What are you doing here?” You nervously choked out as you fidgeted and adjusted your purse on your shoulder to hide the missing piece from his eyesight.

“I was looking everywhere for you!” he panted, doubling over for a moment to catch his breath. His usual poise was gone, replaced by a frantic, wide-eyed stare. “I was worried sick when you didn't return to the hotel! I thought... I didn't know what to think.”

You stood frozen as your vision swam, watching him struggle to fill his lungs. On the spur of the moment and overwhelming heartache, you broke down, catching him off guard. Hot tears streamed down your face and Venti’s panic spiked as he rushed toward you before pulling you into a tight hug that smelled of cecilias and the night air.

“H-hey, windblume, what’s wrong? Did something happen? Tell me who I need to settle the score with.” He rubbed soothing circles into your back even as his own heart raced against your chest.

You sobbed into his shoulder, causing the fabric of his cape to dampen under your tears. 

"I-I lost it…” you wailed in a broken voice. "The figurine... the gift you gave me. It's gone, Venti! I-I checked my purse when I stepped off the aquabus and found it missing!”

He stiffened for a fraction of a second. You expected him to be disappointed or perhaps to sigh at your clumsiness. He had warned you over and over that it would snap and fall off if you kept it hanging there. But you were too adamant to heed his warning. After all, that accessory was a piece of his history, something you really valued that even a single glance at it was enough to make you smile.

Instead, he let out a long, shuddering breath of relief. He pulled back just enough to cup your face in his hands, brushing away the salt-streaked tears with his thumbs.

"Oh, darling… You're crying over the gift? I thought you were hurt and someone had taken you!" A shaky laugh bubbled in his throat.

"But it’s important!” You hiccuped, looking down at your lap in shame. "I've carried that with me for years! You’ve seen it always accompany me and move it to a different bag every single day, depending on which one I’ll be using! I’ve been waiting for the bus to go back and find it for nearly an hour."

His expression softened to an aching tenderness across his features. He leaned his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. 

"Love, listen to me. That trinket is just a thing. I can give you another one at the end of the day, but I can never, ever replace the person who carries it."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, gently dabbing at the corners of your eyes to catch the stray tears.

You shook your head vigorously like a stubborn child. To him, perhaps it was just a replaceable accessory, but to you, it was far more different. You had never separated it from you wherever you go. That figurine was practically a manifestation of Venti when he wasn’t around.

Losing it meant losing a part of him, and by extension, the very time and memories you had spent building your life with him. Another one wouldn't have the same weight; it wouldn't carry the same soul. It was too sentimental, too valuable to simply be swapped for a newer version.

He saw the stubborn grief in your eyes and realized that for once, his words weren't enough to whistle away the sorrow. He heaved an adoring weary sigh.

Reaching out, he unclipped his own cape and draped it over your shoulders to shield you from the biting evening chill of Fontaine.

"You're a sentimental soul, aren't you?" he whispered, pulling the lapels of the coat tighter around you. 

He supposed that was one of the traits he loved about you. He tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear as his gaze silently lingered on your face.

“Come on, let’s sit there while we wait.”

He took your hand in his and guided you to a nearby bench. You sniffled and rubbed your eyes against your arm as you took off your purse and placed it over your lap.

Glancing down, his heart sank. There it was— or rather, there it wasn't. The small clear display bag that usually dangled from the side was gone. Only the metal loop ring remained without its everyday company and partner to anchor it to the strap.

“It would’ve been fine with me if my wallet went missing instead…” You blurted out of the blue as you rested your head on his shoulder.

Venti blinked owlishly before an awkward smile plastered across his face. Patting your head in a comforting motion, he replied, "Now, now, let's not say things like that. How would we be able to go back to Mondstadt if your Mora went missing?" 

You pouted and looked up at him straight in the eyes as if the solution was obvious already. 

“You could call Dvalin over to pick us up.” 

A melodic laugh popped out of him chasing away the tension in you, though it earned him a playful slap on the chest. Your lover leaned in and pecked you on the lips, pinching your cheeks until they puffed out akin to a squirrel.

Although he was teasing you to lighten up the mood, it quickly shifted into something more somber. 

"Besides… it’s not like they would stop producing that figurine. I’d rather let every statue of me in Mondstadt crumble to dust than see you cry like this over a little piece of me."

You shook your head against his shoulder, your fingers mindlessly tracing the empty metal loop on your purse.

“The Mora doesn't matter. I can earn that back. But you know how much that means to me, love... It’s the only thing I have that stays the same. You’re always so busy, or sometimes I’m the one who’s busy. And before we know it, we have to…” 

Your voice trailed off quietly as your hands clenched into fists in your lap. Venti was aware you didn’t want to complete the thought. After all, both of you were beings with long lives who had limited time to stay awake in the mortal realm. What seemed like years for mortal standards were months, or even days, for you both.

"When I have that with me, I’m holding onto the part of you that’s here with me. In the present."

Venti went quiet. His hand slid from your cheek to rest gently against your neck. The playful bard had vanished, leaving only the god who had seen too many things disappear into the stream of time. He pressed his cheek against the top of your hair as his eyes darkened for a bit.

If both of you were secluded somewhere more private like a forest, his wings would have already wrapped around you, cherishing each other’s presence throughout the day in comforting tranquility.

He didn't realize you felt like he was slipping away so often that you needed that little toy to keep you company. Time flew fast after all.

The two of you sat in a heavy silence for a few minutes until the speakers crackled to life.

“Attention passengers, the aquabus for the Navia Line is arriving at the waterway hub. Please stand behind the yellow line and allow passengers to disembark before boarding.”

The moment the announcement ended, you were on your feet. The exhaustion that had burdened you down moments ago was replaced by a frantic surge of adrenaline. You stood at the very edge of the platform, eyes wide, patiently— yet desperately— watching as the vehicle settled against the dock.

As soon as the last passenger stepped off, you rushed straight toward the melusine guide stationed at the railing.

“Excuse me!” you gasped shakily, trying to get the melusine’s attention. “I-I think I left something on the last trip. It’s a small toy, a figurine, inside a clear bag? Please, have you seen it? It means everything to me.”

The Melusine blinked, angling her head with a look of curiosity. She adjusted her cap, looking up at your dry tear-stained face and then at Venti who had followed close behind you, his hand hovering near your back in case you stumbled.

"A small figurine in a clear case?" the pink melusine mumbled thoughtfully before her tired eyes lightened up. "Oh, you must mean the little couple with the tiny wings."

Your heart did a violent somersault in your chest.

"Yes! That's it! Did someone find it? Is it still here?"

She hummed, reaching into a small storage compartment near the guide's seat. "One of the passengers found it tucked between the cushions. They thought a child might have dropped it. They handed it to me just ten minutes ago."

When she pulled her hand back out, the clear bag caught the station's light. There it was. The little figurine you greatly loved was safe and unharmed.

A half-sob, half-laugh choked out of you. Your hands were shaking so hard you could barely take it from her. You clutched the bag to your chest, bowing your head as a fresh wave of relief washed over you.

Venti stepped forward and placed a steadying hand on your shoulder, offering a grateful thank you to the melusine on your behalf as both of you began to embark back to Hotel Debord.

You carefully unzipped the case and took out the figurine as you raised it up to the night sky. The moon’s glow cast upon it, highlighting the shapes and intricate details. One figure was draped in a hooded robe with large wings sweeping open behind him, and the other mirrored him, donned in a long flowing dress and a laurel wreath nicely placed on her crown. Both were facing each other, their hands clasped tightly together with their temples pressed against each other.

You giggled softly, a stray sniffle catching in your throat as you tucked it back into its case. But this time you didn’t want to risk it dropping again, so you decided to slide it deep into the innermost pocket of your purse, safely away from the treacherous loop ring.

“Five hundred years and you’re still keeping that…” Venti said with a half-hearted smile playing on his lips as he slipped his finger through yours.

“Oh, shush! I have the original one right here!” you teased, swinging your joined hands as you hugged his arm. “And besides, who in the world was the one who decided to leave it in the middle of nowhere centuries ago where anyone could find it?”

Venti tutted his tongue in a mock scolding.

"I'll have you know, I didn't 'leave' it! I placed it there with the utmost poetic intent," he countered with equal mischief. "How was I to know a certain stubborn windblume would come along all those years later and decide to stage a divine intervention to convince my people to mass-produce my craftsmanship?”

He pulled you a little closer, the playful banter serving as a bridge to erase the sadness of the hour before. You couldn't help the smug grin that tugged at your lips as you nudged him with your shoulder.

“Well, if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be able to drink your heart out with those dandelion wines the Ragnvidnr clan has been brewing. If I hadn’t picked it up, who would be paying your tabs, hm? Hmm?” 

Venti grinned at your quick wit and reached out to pinch your cheeks. You whined playfully as you tried to swat his hands away, though you ended up stumbling right into his side.

The nature of his smile flickered, turning into something more genuine yet tinged with the weight of his long life as his steps slowed down.

"But really. I meant what I said at the station,” he whispered, squeezing your hand. “I’m glad you cherish what I had made for you... but not at the cost of you.”

He stopped walking for a moment, turning to pull you into the amber glow of a nearby streetlamp. He looked at you directly in the eyes, full of vulnerability that he only expressed when he was serious.

“I know that gift holds our memories. Every laugh, every promise, every moment you’re afraid to forget. But memories can be remade. You can’t.” His thumb brushed over your knuckles as your pace also slowed to trail next to him. “I’ve lost things before. Friends, memories, versions of myself I can’t get back. And if I had to choose between a thousand years of remembrance or one more day with you safe in my arms…”

He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to. 

He gently nudged you to continue walking before resuming his thoughts, “I know you’re scared of erosion, but if it ever comes down that one day Mondstadt decides to remove our effigies at Windrise, at least I’d still be right here next to you, annoying you for more apple cider."

The rhythmic click of your boots on the cobblestones filled the silence. You leaned your head against his arm as the hotel came into view. 

"I know…" Your fingers caressed the ring on his finger gingerly. "As long as you’re with me, I’m certain I can remember everything. Just promise me that you’ll stay in the present where I can still find you.”

Venti stopped at the foot of the hotel steps, the mask of the spirited bard slipping away to reveal the longing ancient soul beneath. He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he pulled your hand up to his lips and kissed your own ring.