#https-furina

oh that man, that gorgeous, benevolent man you’d fell in love with all those moons ago; with dark hair that fades into a glowing orange, resemblant of the sunset and his own geo vision. you had fell in love, yes - you thought he had too. the thought crosses your mind whenever he’s not by your side, not within your grasp like he usually is. typically, the man was serving his job at the wangsheng funeral parlour as a consultant.

you grimace when the tight feeling in your ribcage suffocates you. it’s getting stronger as time goes on, knocking the breath right out of your lungs and leaving you hacking up blood into a white handkerchief. zhongli had expressed no ends of concern about the situation when he’d find the bloodied handkerchiefs scattered around your shared home, ushering you to doctor baizhu as soon as possible.

you had begged baizhu not to utter a word of your condition to zhongli. he returned your pleads with a sorrowful look.

how could your love be so unrequited? had you been the only one true to your word this whole time? the mere thought stings at your eyes, tears threatening to spill as you shakily wash the dishes. zhongli isn’t home, not for a few more hours. he said he had business to attend to - that meant it wasn’t work related. was he cheating? you shake the sour thought away from your head, scowling.

you wonder if the oh-so-wise man could ever read the wrinkles appearing on your skin, aging you with every passing concern that you don’t voice aloud, with every day that goes by where you’re suffocating from the inside out. he never mentions it, perhaps he simply does not care. you feel the knot in your throat, sickening as you gag and splutter into the soapy water of the sink. you keep gagging, the knot doesn’t budge and you’re filled with an overwhelming sense of nausea.

your body grows tired. you slip down to your knees, banging elbows and other limp limbs against kitchen cabinets as you go down. finally, with one last cough, the knot exits your mouth. it falls to the wood floorboards beneath you, slimy and covered in blood but undoubtedly recognised as a glaze lily. its petals are shut, you understand that there is no music, no lullaby to be heard to lull the glaze lily to bloom. it’s an ancient flower, one you always used to admire before this curse laid upon you.

the front door to your house opens, keys jingling in a specific man’s gloved hands as he enters. you hurry to throw the glaze lily out of the kitchen window, submerging your hands in the sink once more as the metallic taste of blood and lingering aftermath of a floral tang swarms your mouth. you hold your breath, hoping you didn’t have the appearance of someone who had just coughed up a flower so violently.

a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist, suddenly you’re hit with the faint smell of aged wine and familiar scent of freshly dug earth. you smile at the thought, leaning back into his chest despite the pain tearing at your lungs and the burning sensation left behind in your throat.

“you’ve been coughing again—” zhongli’s voice reverberates close to your ear, hot breath fanning over your skin and your eyes raise from the dirty water to your reflection in the kitchen window, where zhongli’s warm amber eyes are staring at you so deeply.

“it’s okay, my love, i promise,” you lie through your teeth, hoping the man sincerely couldn’t read through you the way he used to, “this time it was a smaller amount than the last…”

you try to sound cheerful in your approach to the topic, careful to maintain that personality he’d apparently fell in love with one day in liyue harbour. zhongli makes a noise - is he doubting you? you watch as a gloved hand raises, nearing your face before his thumb wipes gently at a trickle of blood leading from the corner of your lips.

“i’ll speak to doctor baizhu in the morning,” zhongli states firmly, you almost bite back the words that taste bitter about him ‘caring’ for you, “perhaps you need a higher dose of your medication.”

the medication in question surely had been a ruse to fool the man, though you did not expect it to have worked. changsheng had uttered that you could not leave the bubu pharmacy without some form of medication, it’d look absurd in the eyes of the wangsheng funeral parlour consultant. in agreement, baizhu had qiqi mix violetgrass powder with sugar - the instructions were simple, mix it into the hot tea you’d drink with zhongli every evening.

it was sweet, not at all bitter and the scent of violetgrass made it bearable. apparently the inclusion of herbal properties was enough to fool your dearest partner or so you thought.

—

it’s hard to understand the fine line between a lie and a truth when the past few months, you’d been dating a man for someone whomst he was not. it was a struggle to understand the situation but it kept you up for endless nights, counting stars and tending to the numerous flora you’d planted in the garden underneath the moonlight - courtesy of your friend the traveler for appearing with so many countless seeds of blooms from across teyvat.

yet as you sit on the grass, staring at the pile of dead - and dying - glaze lilies you had acquired, the stars twinkling endlessly above you, you understood why he’d done it. he was judicious, hoping to protect you from his past yet keep you as his future. the thought made that pain in your chest tighten. you let out a futile whimper into the quiet night.

as you ponder zhongli’s status as liyue’s archon - the geo archon of all people, you begin to question your previous doubts. your breaths become struggled, your chest heaving as you lay on your back for some relief. trembling fingertips brush amongst blades of grass, hoping for a distraction as tears spill down your cheeks.

liyue is a beautiful country with vast mountains and yellowed plains that seem to stretch endlessly. its civilisation had become fruitful at the expense of liyue harbor, bustling with trade and the thing your partner had appeared to love the most; contracts. he has every right to be proud of the nation liyue had built to this day, despite claiming that he’d ultimately retired - “the people can do without me, they’ve proved that much.”

blood trickles from your mouth but it’s not gentle, it’s a rush, like a waterfall as it spills down the sides of your face and pools on the grass below you. it’s littered in an array of blue and white petals, matching that of glaze lilies - a flower you’d grown to hate. you struggle to get oxygen into your lungs with the rising level of blood that doesn’t dissipate from your parted lips, suffocating you as you try to no ends to breathe through your nose.

that is, if there was room in your lungs for such oxygen. twists and turns of branches and roots that climb to the walls of your organs, painting them with glaze lilies and filling them with fallen petals every time a flower wilts from the unreasonable conditions inside your body.

you’re proud of liyue; the magnificent, beautiful nation of geo that you got to experience in all of its glory. zhongli often times referred to liyue with feminine pronouns and as the light dies from your eyes and your chest ceases to rise, you can only think one thing with your last dying breath.

you’re not her.

✉️ mail received! sender: venti

you had every ounce of reason to believe that the boisterous bard was in fact not a mortal. he knew mondstadt like the back of his hand - i mean seriously, do all bards recite the crevices of a cliff face the way that he does? - and even drunk he could blabber for hours on mondstadt’s history, occasionally mentioning things that were not public knowledge.

therefore you knew you’d be swallowing yourself into a mess when you fell head over heels for that playful giggle, the lingering taste of wine on his lips between kisses and how he always seemed to reassure you so perfectly - regardless of whether you worshipped the archon of anemo or not (he doesn’t mind anyways!)

you remember the day that he finally gave up his secret well. it was carved into your memory the same way venti had every inch of his country burned into his mind, the rocks, the lakes, the trees he rustled with familiar, warm breezes as you walk under them. you’d been ill for months, seeking help from a multitude of doctors to try pinpoint exactly what was wrong - it turns out you didn’t have long left to live. in a bout of emotion, venti exposed his true identity to you underneath windrise, not far from a statue of his own person.

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a gasp falls from your lips, another coughing fit shaking your body as venti perches himself down beside you on the picnic blanket, his hand rubbing your back warmly. you flash him an appreciative smile, to which your boyfriend returns as he presses a kiss to your head. weakly, you raise a tissue to your mouth as you continue to cough, as if something is stuck in your throat.

it’s becoming harder to breathe and when that lump in your throat finally hacks up, the white tissue in your hand stains a bright red. venti’s eyes notice it before you do, the hairs on the back of his neck standing in a panic as his breath hitches - no, you couldn’t possibly be leaving him this soon?

it was as if celestia was mocking him for falling in love with a human in the first place. a mortal with an archon? a concept so amusing in the eyes of those who live forever. it was bad enough falling for you knowing you too would leave him one day but it was even more of a stab to his chest when you were ill with mere months left.

“windblume?” venti whispers, concerned when you don’t respond straight away. your breaths are staggered, weak and wheezing somewhat. it feels like your lungs are filling with liquid, drowning out your vital organs as you become dizzy. your vision is darkening, static around the edges as you look over at your boyfriend.

he’s crying; rivers of precious, glittering tears are dancing down pale cheeks as he stares at you in fear. there’s no reassuring him now. you know that venti has seen his fair share of death, you couldn’t lie to him in such a scenario.

“in… another lifetime, okay?” your voice cracks, you’re running out of oxygen when your chest tightens and constricts like there’s a heavy weight pressing on you, “i-i love you.”

“wait- no!” venti cries out, catching you as your body slumps forward, your eyes unblinking. he squeezes you close, burying his face into your shoulder when he can’t hear your struggled gasps for breath anymore, “i love you too…”

✉️ mail received! sender: zhongli

he figured he’d done a good job of hiding his status as an archon, especially when he tries to emphasise that he is retired - xiao will always send him a straight, deadpanned look in response to this that makes you giggle. you’d seen through it all, namely because you’d been familiar with xiao prior to meeting zhongli. you knew the last remaining yaksha well, on friendly terms.

you knew xiao wouldn’t just respond to anyone the way that he does zhongli. you’d seen first hand how the adeptus responds at the voice of the taller man - obedient and loyal. not to mention, you’d heard plenty of times when xiao stumbles on his words, referring to zhongli by his archon name before his cheeks flush and he stutters out his human name instead.

zhongli thought the idea of love mediocre. it never seemed to impress him - you suspected that there had been a past lover involved but neither xiao nor zhongli confirmed or denied your suspicions. you also knew however that zhongli had every right not to return your feelings. what would an archon ever want with a human anyways?

but the benevolent turned archon cracked under your smile and contagious energy, admitting that he was an archon the same night he had said his true feelings out loud into the night of guyun stone forest - where he had taken you to delve into liyue’s history. it was a personal favourite activity to do with you, your eyes glittering whenever he’d speak of events long ago.

sadly, zhongli knows that he had delved too deep into too many scenarios for his own good, trusting the fatui within liyue at what cost?

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guyun stone forest was as peaceful as ever, the waves rolling up the sand beaches in melodies you wished you could paint on a canvas. zhongli knew you particularly loved this spot - he’d offered to take you to jueyun karst this evening but you was hellbent on coming back to guyun stone forest, a harsh reminder of the archon war to the tall male.

yet as peaceful as it was, a solace that the two of you would cherish any other day, there was the struggled gasps of your breath that broke the silence, meshing with the crash of waves and the whip of the wind on liyue’s coastline.

golden eyes stare at you, panicked and dilated as he takes in the way your blood is staining your attire, painting it red in the shade of jueyun chilis - would he ever look at the specialities of his own country the same again? let alone the location that he held the most memories at, especially with you, the only one he’d truly let close again?

“zhongli?” you whisper, watching the way he’s clutching his polearm with such vigor, brandishing it in anger after having fought off your attackers. if he wasn’t wearing his gloves, you’d see the way his knuckles are turning white.

“how are you feeling? does it hurt?” his polearm clatters to the stony pebbles of the beach you stood on, the very pebbles that are splattered in blood - not just yours but of numerous fatui lackeys zhongli had put to rest in your defence. he rushes to your side, gloved hands cupping your face as he makes you look up at him.

“it burns, li,” you wince, breathing is starting to hurt. it’s starting to take its toll paired with the blood loss zhongli knows he can’t stop, “i’ll be waiting for you in our next lifetime.”

zhongli grimaces at your words, not willing to grasp the concept of you dying yet - no, he possibly couldn’t. he was prepared for much longer time with you, he couldn’t have it cut so short. but he watches the way the sparkle is dying from your eyes, chapped lips parted as shallow breaths leave them.

“perhaps, then we will get this whole thing right, my love,” he reassures, a hand falling down to your waist when your knees buckle weakly under you, protecting your fragile body from the stones below, “i love you, y/n, always.”

✉️ mail received! sender: ei

following the traveler’s escapades in inazuma, ei wandered inazuma city many days to bask in the sunlight she hadn’t seen in decades. she’d hang around a particular café, one where you worked as a waitress delivering cups of hot matcha to tables of smiling elderly couples, dying old together until their last days. ei would sink deeper into thought whenever she saw you, some days even managing to run into you when you wasn’t working - it truly was accidental!

you would be a fool to not recognise her as inazuma’s archon, to which you do. she knows this when you respond to her in polite, formal gestures and yet you never fear her. you never cower in her presence or shake and shiver. it’s a peace she had yet to experience in her time out of the plane of euthymia.

when she announces her feelings to you, under the dazzling, colourful displays of naganohara fireworks in a quiet spot of tenshukaku’s gardens, she makes it clear that you will leave this realm of existence before her - without her. you do not fear this idea either, the same way you do not fear her. ei finds it courageous that you do not fear death as others around her do.

you do fear her capabilities as an archon, the destruction she can cause in mere seconds and the enemies she makes in the blink of an eye but ei never meant for it to turn out this way, they were her enemies to deal with, not yours.

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“ei…?” her name falls from your lips within seconds of your attack, a red river trickling from the corner of your mouth as ei lowers you to the grass below, kneeling at your side as she holds you close in her arms.

“shh, my dear, it is okay.” ei coos, raising a shaking hand to brush her thumb against your cheek, collecting tears yet to fall from your eyes although she can see them sparkling in rhe moonlight. thunder roars over head, lightning flashing around you in the midst of ei’s anger and worry.

it is the first time she has seen you so fearful with eyes wide as you choke on your own blood, coughing it up. it splashes onto her pale skin but she does not react, watching you helplessly as her grip on you tightens.

“this is it, isn’t it?” you ask with a raspy voice, a single tear rolling down your cheek that ei wasn’t quick enough to wipe away in time. ei flashes a sad smile down at you, not wanting to say the words you crave to hear.

“you belong with me - you know that, yes?” she suddenly states, her voice firm but there’s a slight waver in her tone, “maybe in another world or lifetime but i know you belong with me.”

you choke on a sob at her words, succumbing to your injuries as they burn and sting, red drops of blood dripping to the ground below and staining blades of grass. ei presses her lips to your head in a silent reassurance, knowing that nothing she could say would bring you calm now. nothing would bring you the divinity you feel when the two of you would sit under a shared parasol in tenshukaku’s gardens or wandered in the shallow waters of inazuma’s coastlines barefooted.

ei keeps her lips pressed to your clammy skin until your sobs and cries of how painful it is subdue, leaving her with your lifeless body in her arms. only then does the woman cry, screaming out into the night sky in a battle with the thunder - who truly felt more anger in that moment? she wails, wondering if she’ll ever live without the ones she loves getting taken from her so brutally.

✉️ mail received! sender: lyney & lynette

lyney lacks to admit the pure fear that sends shocks and shivers down his body when lynette is not within immediate sight of him. she likes to chime that he says some weird things; perhaps he does on late nights when lynette is accompanying freminet without him - father had assigned him to a different mission and he'd finished much earlier than her. thoughts rush through his mind quicker than he can process them, his aching legs pacing the floor of his bedroom.

are they okay? did something go wrong? lyney's mind is restless at all times, he needs to know lynette is safe. in a few moments of silence, he'll see a younger lynette in the dark, her ears flattened to her head and tail tucked in antagonising fear - the night that father had saved her life, mere moments from the potential loss of her life. lyney's throat will always tighten, breathing rapidly until his lungs burn.

he knows exactly how he got his vision, in the twilight of a cold night, surrounded by danger. he knows that he had begged father so recklessly for a delusion simply to fill the gap that the lack of a vision had given him but he didn't care, he wanted to accompany his sister. he couldn't let her out of his sight again.

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there's a painful silence that's filling the orphanage. on most days, it would be bustling - after all, father had acquired many orphans in light of their dire situations being unable to refuse such kind help as she offers. lyney catches himself frowning, feet pacing the worn floorboards of his bedroom floor. if lynette was here, she'd have already quipped about how the floor will 'disappear beneath him if he keeps pacing.'

the reminder of his twin sister should make him smile. it should draw a crack of a smile to his face and curl the corners of his lips upwards but it doesn't. she still hasn't returned from her mission and while lyney refuses to admit that he's been counting the hours since he was separated from lynette, he most definitely has.

an oil lamp burns by his bedside, painting the room in an orange hue as it glows and yet casting shadows across the walls. lyney can't help but catch sight of the shadows that night, painted on the walls in the glow of roaring flames that crackled from where they burned. he's painfully reminded of the fragile young girl lynette was, vulnerable and almost caught in a life threatening situation. he contemplates what would have happened to her if father hadn't interrupted in time but he's quick to shake his head. he's seen many what if scenarios in his nightmares, waking him as his body trembles and his lungs burn for oxygen.

the pained reminders stain his mind, torturing him when there's a burst of noise from the orphanage's entry hall; multiple voices screaming his name repeatedly, he can hear them calling for him and begging to know where he is. lyney whips his head towards his bedroom door, storming forth as he hurriedly opens it. he catches eyes with one of the orphans who'd been calling his name so painfully. they're wide, fearful and their face is void of colour.

"lyney! it's lynette-" need they say more? the boy rushes forward, skipping steps as he runs down the spiral staircases dressed in lavish red carpets that father had installed for a sense of aesthetic - she had claimed she couldn't work nor focus in a place so bland. - there's a sense of dread that fuels every inch of lyney's body, tearing him apart when he bursts into the entry hall.

beneath a dazzling chandelier with a warm amber glow, arlecchino herself has nestled beside the form of someone on the checker tiled floor, surrounded by orphans that she's trying desperately to shoo away, demanding for space in all of her authority. she's seem awry, not her typical self and lyney's lilac eyes fall to the familiar shoes of his twin sister, poking from the crowd.

his heart sinks, colour leaving his face as he hesitantly approaches; she's just injured, he convinces himself when he sees the stain of red on her usually pristine white shirt, something she was devoted to keeping that way for their shows. the orphans part at the sight of him, the dark eyes of arlecchino raising to him before she trails back down to lynette.

the girl is propped onto her lap, head rested against arlecchino's thighs. lynette has always been a pale girl, lyney knows this well enough whenever he glimpses his own shade of skin colour but she's even paler than usual, her eyelashes fluttered shut. the silence between himself and father is almost deafening.

"she's alright, isn't she?" he barely manages to croak out, seeing how arlecchino has pressed a lanky hand to where lynette's blood has seeped from. she almost grimaces, it's the most emotion lyney has seen from her for a while.

"she's already gone, lyney," was that a crack in her voice? lyney doesn't have the time to ponder it when his vision goes dark, he's dizzy and there's static in the corners of his eyes when he struggles to get air into his lungs, "freminet is in the infirmary."

the infirmary, yes - that means he's getting medical help but the same can't be said for his twin, who he had lacked to part with since they were born. the twin he would tell everything to, who he trusted with every fibre of his being as much as she did with him too.

there's a stinging in his eyes when tears prick at them, threatening to spill the longer he stares at lynette's body. he falls to his knees, not caring for the pain it causes when the floor is less than comfortable, pressing his face into lynette's clothing. she smells the same as she always does, the faint smell of the sugary desserts he'd reprimand her for, lumidouce bells and the ocean.

he lets out a cry into the fabric of her clothing, his hands gripping at it until his knuckles turn white. his cheek presses to her neck, she's cold to the touch already and arlecchino can't help but turn her head away at the sight of her most useful child reduced to a sobbing, shaking mess on the entry hall floor, gripping his dead sister for dear life.

✉️ mail received! sender: kaeya & diluc

despite going down two very different paths of life and perhaps saying things they shouldn’t have, they cannot deny the invisible ties of brotherly love. no matter how much diluc may throw sharp words at the cryo vision, they see their younger selves sometimes like reflections of the past in a shattered mirror’s shards.

on dreary nights where the rain storms against glass windows, when one brother remains consumed by a sweet yet bitter liquid on his tongue and the other brandishes a claymore in the night, they recognise their indifferences. they recognise the unshakeable bond that their pasts have tested to its limit. those around them too acknowledge that the past cannot truly deter emotions.

kaeya frequents the dawn winery much at the expense of his brother, who grumbles and snatches bottles of (almost stolen) wine from his tanned hands. it could be a misfortune he carries to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and this scene… feels so familiar to him.

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a crack of lightning decorates the dark sky looming over mondstadt. it’s been like this for a few hours now, trapping the two brothers in an awkward silence as they linger around the manor. diluc has made the effort to avoid his brother and yet tresses of blue hair keep getting in his peripheral vision.

“there’s been fatui sightings not far north from the winery,” kaeya’s icy gaze flickers towards the office door that isn’t completely shut, “perhaps we should tell master kaeya—”

“he doesn’t need to know, i’ll deal with it personally.” the deep voice of diluc booms, full of authority and the slightest attitude at the mention of his brother that makes kaeya click his tongue, pocketing the small, circular mora he’d been tossing with his thumb as diluc emerges from the office, the winery worker not far behind.

the brothers exchange a look, perhaps this scenario is all too familiar for them both to let it play out. diluc bites his tongue when he prepares for those words he knows kaeya will say.

“he doesn’t need to know?” kaeya mocks lowkey, a coy smile on his face as he dusts his hands together and approaches the redhead, “i’ll be accompanying you.”

and somehow the fiery red male cannot argue back, his eyes narrowing at his brother in distaste when he accepts his fate - it is raining after all, maybe kaeya’s vision could come in more useful than the cavalry captain typically tends to be, his breath laced with wine.

the brothers set off immediately, heads hanging low as they follow the muddy paths out of the winery; ones they’d followed many times before. something about this reminds them of how accustomed to each other’s presence they are. the reports from various workers at the winery are indeed correct and whilst diluc storms into the fight, vision ablaze with an anger that cannot be sated at the cost of a few mere fatui deaths, kaeya cannot help but ponder if there’s too many of them to take on by themselves.

rain impairs his vision, trickling down his face and soaking his hair to his skin. brandishing a blade in his hand, the young man can't help but think he's seen this before. another crack of lightning brightens the sky as a weapon is plunged into diluc's abdomen, his face pales as ruby eyes meet kaeya's panicked gaze.

the realisation hits when suddenly kaeya sees crepus' face over his brother's. he sees that evening when he arrived a little too late, the air struggling to get to his lungs no matter how he gasps for breath, clouds of breath quick to disperse in front of cold lips. kaeya is quick to finish the remaining enemies off before he's forced to look at diluc's slumped body in the mud.

"diluc?" he whispers, kneeling beside the bleeding man. diluc's gloved hands are pressed to his wound, a grimace on his face, "brother?"

"i heard you the first time," he grumbles, not wanting to admit the warmth that consumes his adrenaline filled heart at the sentiment behind hearing kaeya say brother once again, "..say it again."

kaeya takes a moment, his shaking hands dropping his faithful sword as he presses them over diluc's. he no longer feels the warmth emitting from his brother's pyro vision, his eyes stinging painfully - he blames the rain, of course, it's getting in his eyes.

"brother," it falls from his mouth hurriedly, followed by a quiet curse under his breath, "now isn't the time for this! w-we'll get you to adelinde..."

for the first time in years, a glimpse of a grin crosses the redhead's stoic face. in between shallow breaths and blurry sight, he gazes over the familiarity of his brother's face; blood or not. a final breath escapes his chapped lips in the cold of the night, his last thought going over how he wishes he had fixed things with kaeya sooner.

the cryo vision yells out into the night, quick to pull diluc against his chest as the rain continues to ruthlessly batter down on them. it happened again, he curses, squeezing his eyes shut as the tears blend with the raindrops on his cheeks. it won't happen again.

✉️ mail received! sender: aether & lumine

bound by blood, they have always been as thick as thieves together. no ends of time could stop them, no ends of trials and challenges that cross their paths on the journey to find each other. their determination is honourable across teyvat, seeking each other out as if there is no other person in the universe.

without each other they do not know what to do. after all, what do you do when the person you've travelled long and far with disappears without a trace and you're left with nothing but your wit to find them again?

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"brother!" her voice calls out, excitement coursing through her veins as she hurriedly drops the dull blade she'd sported her whole journey these past few years, traversing nations and fighting gods and others alike in search for her brother. aether does not budge, slumped against a rock overlooking the devastation left of khaerni'ah.

lumine's eyes trail to it, the smoke that rises in shades of grey and black, revealing that the flames still burnt at buildings and civilisation. the ashes still smoulder, hot to the touch as the embers glow and flicker through the air. this is not the khaenri'ah she remembers nor is it most likely the khaenri'ah that dainsleif remembers too - dainsleif.. where is he?

the blonde whips her head around in confusion at the sudden disappearance of the male who'd assisted her journey against the abyss order, solemnly appearing out of nowhere with new information to support her journey. a frown decorates her face before she turns her attention back to aether, her smile replacing her former expression.

"aether?" lumine calls out when her brother is unresponsive - was he mad at her for taking so long? why wasn't he sharing the same excitement as her? she stumbles over, breaking into a sprint towards the boulder her twin brother sat beside her. finally, after all this time, she could hold her brother again. her arms envelope the shoulders of her brother, breathing in that familiar scent mixed with the cursed remnants of smoke and ash that fill the air.

but aether doesn't respond to the hug nor the death tight grip lumine is succumbing him to in all of her excitement. slowly, she raises her head. aether's golden eyes are glazed over, his pupils gone and replaced with white. lumine's smile begins to fade, pulling away from the hug when she realises her brother's warm skin that she craved to touch is instead cold and pale.

the blood that has trickled from the corner of his mouth and seeps from his neck has darkened as it oxidises, speckled with the black ash from the flames that have torched khaenri'ah. the breath hitches in lumine's throat and it's suddenly harder to breathe than it was a few moments ago.

a wail escapes her, screaming into the eerie silence left in the aftermath of death and destruction. there's no one to comfort her, to answer her cries. was it all for nothing? had she journeyed this whole time, endlessly fulfilling everyone else's requests just for a snippet of information attaining to her brother, just to be too late?

✉️ mail received! sender: albedo & klee

klee is too young to remember where albedo comes from or even possibly his master, at least this is what he tells himself. klee merely does not care for the trivial matters revolving around where people come from or where they go - despite missing her mother alice dearly sometimes. no, instead the small girl cares for every face surrounding her in light of her mother’s absence; this is particularly albedo.

the people of mondstadt recognise that potentially the small girl is attached to him, referring to him as her big brother as if rhinedottir had made him specifically for her. and on cold nights atop dragonspine’s summit, dressed from head to toe for warmth, the chalk prince considers it.

with a bubbly personality and bright smile that sends everyone into gasps of awe, klee tends to get what she wants and albedo, as her designated big brother, is also victim to these schemes.

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“klee, don’t stray too far,” albedo chimes, concerned for her safety when sky blue eyes follow the brightly coloured girl’s attire through the bleak backdrop of snow, “it’s not safe.”

stars twinkle endlessly above the pair, shining like gold now that the snowstorm had cleared up and dark grey clouds had rolled away to reveal the night sky. klee stares in awe, the stars seem much clearer out here.

“big brother! look at that star!” klee points a gloved finger up at a particular star and whilst albedo gazes upon it, he’s reminded of the very diamond engraved to his throat. his breath hitches and he pulls his gaze away from the stars, approaching the small girl as to stop her leaving his side for too long.

he’d fell so hopelessly for that innocent grin and sparkling eyes when she begged him to let her stay the night with him on dragonspine - he knows he shouldn’t fear for her life entirely, there was a reason acting grand master jean kept klee tucked away in solitary confinement so much but he still couldn’t help the tense of his muscles when he watches her tread through thick layers of snow.

the silence on dragonspine after snowfall was usually albedo’s favourite thing about being stationed up here alone with his experiments but he found himself holding his breath, gloved hands ready to reach for the small girl every time she steps an inch too far. something seemed off but he denoted it down to him being anxious about klee’s presence on dragonspine.

amidst silence there’s a whistle, almost resembling that of an arrow soaring through air. in confusion, the blond whips his head around - nobody dares to step foot on dragonspine so recklessly, not without confiding in himself and the adventurer’s guild first, so where was that whistling coming from? that’s when klee lets out a piercing squeal into the night.

albedo is quick to turn his head back in klee’s direction, had he been so careless to take his attention from her for mere seconds only for her to end up injured? yet as his lips part to call her name, he catches sight of the young girl pierced in the neck but none other than an arrow.

the chilling air of dragonspine hitches in his throat, burning his lungs when he can’t seem to get oxygen into his body, his eyes burning holes into the sight before him when he falls to his knees beside her. she’s terrified, rasping for breath so heavily that the small clouds of warm breath dispersing at her lips are consistently appearing with sharp intakes.

the usual sparkle of ruby red eyes has been demoted to a glitter of wet liquid spilling from the corners of her eyes, her eyes set on the face of her faithful big brother she adored so heavily. she wants to speak, to call his name despite him being right in front of her but it hurts so much, why isn’t he doing something about it?

albedo only has himself to blame, he thinks when he notices the hillichurls disappearing from the cliffside when they think the threat has dissipated - the exact reason his attire was the colour scheme it was, to blend him in so effortlessly. a scowl crosses his face, tears threatening to spill but he remains strong; he has to for klee’s sake.

“i-i’m sorry,” he croaks out, filled to the brim with a guilt he wishes klee could understand when she lets out a strangled whimper, “i’m so sorry klee.”

he pleads that celestia is kind enough to give him the time to take her to the base of dragonspine, across the river to mondstadt so he can get her help. her blood stains the whites and greys of his clothes, blonde hair spilled over his shoulder as he carries her like she’s shattered porcelain.

by the time he makes it to the adventurer’s guild’s camp, out of the sheer cold that turns his limbs numb in an oddly comforting manner now, klee’s breath has ceased to exist despite all the panicked screams around her lifeless body.

he refuses to leave her body’s side, buried neck deep in a suffocating guilt that none of these people will understand. he blames himself for the death of his own little sister, one of the only people he had after his master left.

you followed the routine meticulously whenever you needed it, which was usually always when the inspiration runs dry from your veins. it stumps you every time, being in that scenario as a member of the wanwen bookhouse in liyue harbor. you never particularly want xingqiu chasing after you on whether you have any new material to publish.

the idea was first proposed in its early stages by a close friend - at least, that’s what you call him. you had been grumbling over a cup of steaming hot tea, head in your hands as you whined to xiao about an upcoming deadline.

“why don’t you travel for inspiration?” he had suggested and within seconds, your face had lit up. you stared at him with glittering eyes, a hopeful glimpse into your future right before you. xiao shifted nervously under your gaze, his gloved hands cupping his own cup of tea as he glanced away, the tips of ears feeling warm.

suddenly you would start disappearing for days, sometimes even weeks as the birth of your new found routine began. it was the saviour of your writer’s block, filling you to the brim with stories and poetry that everyone at the wanwen bookhouse fawned over. xiao never pondered where you would run off to, in all fairness he assumed you was prancing off to mondstadt, sumeru and even inazuma.

he never chased you up on it. after all, his suggestion had merely been a case of him trying to get the oddly clingy human that appeared from nowhere off his back for more than a day. your presence suffocates him as a yaksha and he takes your absence in his stride yet he leans against the railing of his room at wangshu inn, staring out at the endless stars all clustered together on a backdrop of indigo and he sees how your eyes glittered that day, like you had captured the stars and put them in your eyes. almost like fireflies in a glass jar.

xiao did however presume you was at least obsessed - his words, you simply call it a normal friendship - with him enough to bring back trinkets from your adventures but you come back empty handed each time with only a proud grin on your face as you dump your newest works onto the male. part of him is glad that you don’t, after all gifting on such a level outside of special occasions could come off as mating to the male bird. the other part of him - the humanoid part of him - wishes you would do it at least once to fill the empty void in his heart left from centuries of avoiding contact with people.

the kitchen at the wangshu inn is usually busy around this time of day as workers gather for their lunch break or couples take a leisurely stroll across the guili plains whilst liyue’s weather remains so warm and tender, humid to the touch with a cool breeze. xiao knows this well from how long he’s resided at the very top of the inn, where the breeze catches just right and rustles golden leaves above his head. the noise brought by the mortal world’s lunchtime would soon cease and he’d be left in the solace he craves so desperately to ease his pains; that is disregarding the fact that xiao finds the kitchen too noisy on this day.

someone jogging up the steps is enough for xiao to hide, after all he’s not expecting visitors nor does anyone ever seek him out on purpose now but he catches sight of your familiar head of hair and the waft of almond tofu through the leaves, the plate held carefully in your hands. he tries to make his sudden appearance calm, as if he’d always been there - you’re too innocent to put together myth to reality, even with his mask tucked securely to his hip.

“you’re back again,” he comments, gold eyes watching you carefully as you spin on your heel to face him, your initial look of confusion ebbing away at the sight of him, “almond tofu?”

“i figured i’d come back with a gift, at least,” you chime with a grin, holding out the plate to him. seeing your smile after a few days affects xiao more than he’d care to admit, his stomach filled with the odd sensation of butterflies - and a gift? “i remember you saying you liked almond tofu.”

the pale skin of his cheeks seems to flush with a subtle hue of pink causing the yaksha to flicker his glance away from you as he takes the plate of almond tofu, mumbling his thanks. what was this feeling? his brows almost knit together in confusion; could it be karmic debt? perhaps your presence as a mortal human was finally taking its toll on him. xiao parts his lips to excuse himself from your vicinity, wondering if he could gather some believable lies to get you off his back but he stares at the small details on your face and how you still smell like parchment and ink instead.

xiao moves away from you - albeit a little reluctantly - to the table presented neatly with two chairs by the railing, hidden in the shade of wangshu inn's great auburn tree. he settles in one of the chairs, clearing his throat as he watches you lean against the aforementioned railing.

"so where did you go gallivanting off to this time?" he asks curiously, taking small bites of the almond tofu you'd presented to him. it comes to him that he's never once asked where you go when you disappear from him and apparently the question catches you off guard when he glimpses how your eyes seem to widen a little in surprise, processing his sudden interest in your adventures.

"oh! i was camping out at qingyun peak again!" you lean back against the railing, letting liyue's breeze tickle your skin like a warm breath fanning down your neck. xiao pauses mid-bite, golden eyes blinking in bewilderment as he gazes at you. was that all? he furrows his brows, after all he had truly expected you to be going abroad to new lands for your inspiration - he's even more caught off guard by how you said again… so it wasn't your first time?

"is that all?" he voices aloud, listening to the sound of your sweet laugh on the wind at his response. the strange feeling in his stomach turns again and he almost drops the almond tofu on his spoon, clearing his throat as he looks away from you quickly. these feelings were not painful for him, he begins to realise in turn. the heat of his ears and the way his neck and cheeks soon matched their temperatures, the shake of his gloved hands and how his stomach felt like it was flipping - these were not associated with pain nor karma, confusing the yaksha further.

"eeyup!" you pop the 'p,' grinning over at him before looking up at the roof of wangshu inn, noting the numerous bird nests filled with eggs before you remember something you wished to bring up to him, "but i heard a little birdy calling out during the night, it sounded so sad."

xiao hums in response, turning his focus back to the almond tofu he was finding the most delectable - if you had made it like he assumed, you truly was an amazing cook. he considers voicing that thought out loud before he realises you are mumbling about the small bird you'd heard and xiao begins to ponder what type of bird you must have heard. in the middle of night and at qingyun peak… the more he thinks about it, he soon chokes on the tofu he was chewing. he clears his throat to cover his embarrassment, hiding his face as he waves you off when you rush to his side.

you'd heard him. xiao's heart races, thumping against his ribcage at how he gets himself out of this situation. how would he even begin to explain that the bird is lamenting, calling for its dead friends that will never return? his eyelashes flutter shut for a moment.

"i'm sure the bird is fine." he tries to reassure once he has finished chewing the tofu. you give him a thankful smile at his reassurance, settling in the chair opposite him with a drastic sigh.

"i hope so… that poor birdy," you go quiet for a moment, gaze drifted off into the distance in thought and xiao takes the moment to recollect himself, leaning back in his chair as he admires you subtly. you really was starting to become a pain for him, "you'll have to join me next time so you can hear it! you seem to know a lot about birds, xiao - maybe we can go find it!"

xiao grimaces but he doesn't let it show, a crack of a smile on his face at the sentiment behind you caring so much for this bird; caring for him, without ever realising it. perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to let you a little closer, after all these pains weren't hurting him.

"i'll have to take you up on that offer." he muses, fixing his gloves as a wide beam brightens up your face. oh, what a grave he has dug for himself.

the scene haunts him vividly. it creeps into every crevice of his mind, every nerve that has harboured all the knowledge he could ever acquire over these past centuries; it affects his psyche. in the darkness behind his eyelids - should he be brave enough to dare let his eyelashes sink shut - he sees every detail left of his beloved - you.

the guilt eats at him, nagging at his bones and tearing at his flesh, leaving only remnants of searing pains when he can't help but blame himself that he let it get this far - that he even let it happen. it was something so simple that he could avoided, at least that's what he tells himself. zhongli isn't stupid, not when he's walked teyvat this long and seeked enough knowledge for his own curiosity - albeit never comparable to that of the dendro archon. he knows it couldn't have been avoided, for that is why the guilt rips him apart so brutally.

but yet there is one simple way it could have been avoided. he should have never fell in love with you. the thought aches his heart and he finds his grip tightening around the tea cup in his hands, paled knuckles concealed by his oh-so-familiar gloves. amber eyes resembling the cor lapis native to his own country close shut and the horrific scenes creep back in.

the man admits to oversleeping that morning, the comfort of familiar bedsheets drowning him in a warmth incomparable to anything else. his routine with you was a simple one; he was always the last to bed but always the first to rise. zhongli used it as an excuse for you to never see his bare skin, the dark tones that cover his large hands and fade up his arms, decorated in veins of golds and oranges. he would get up and dressed, pulling black gloves over his hands before your eyelashes could even flutter open.

that was the way your relationship had ticked for the months it had been ongoing. that was the way zhongli kept his deepest secrets locked away, thinking it was for the best; it wouldn't cause problems if you knew, you was a mortal. zhongli knew he was facing the sandglass of time when it came to your life in the first place. is that what shattered the sandglass so soon? ending your life with a severed tie that happened too early, taking you from him when he was least prepared?

the bed was empty by the time zhongli awoke. the first fleeting thought that crossed the geo archon's mind was his secrets, his hidden gems - had you seen it all? had you left him? the second thought to cross his mind was in regards to your safety. he was certainly no fool, he knew he had enemies even with the lack of people who knew his true identity. you never rose before him and at least he would have expected you to wake him.

zhongli has traced the corridors and winding paths of your shared house many times. he's taken the stairs so much they're worn from the use of you both - and your guests, when the likes of xiao, hu tao or your friends come to visit. in every footstep, the man has memorised every inch of the house; every painting, every vase, every floorboard and in these steps he takes routinely, he knows the house is never this silent however there's no proof of a break-in. there's no distress, no signs of damage or disruption.

the earth has taken your body for its own in the span of a few hours, vines creeping across your body as if to tie you to the ground. celestia forbid someone tried to give you a proper burial, your clothes and skin stained in a dark red as the blood that flooded out of your mouth hours ago begins to oxidise. it paints the grass surrounding you and in the summer heat of the liyue sun, it creates a foul stench that suffocates the garden you'd spent so much of your time in.

there are flowers beginning to bloom on the vines tethering you to the earth, in shades of white so pure, it pales in comparison to the glaze lilies that had damaged your internal organs so ferociously. the sweet floral scents create a bitter tang in the air mixed with the metallic waft of blood and the unforgettable smell of the unavoidable rot your body was going through in the heat. this is what undeniably lead him to find you.

it makes him gag, turning his head away the second he steps outside into what is usually the clean air of liyue's countryside. his eyes fall to the pile of wilted glaze lilies you'd compiled in the far corner, hidden behind an apple tree you'd been growing. it's beginning to finally bear its fruits. zhongli notes that you will never see your apple tree's first harvest.

it feels as if he's stabbed in the chest when he finally musters the courage to look at you - or rather, what he thinks is you. your cheeks are sunken and your skin is beginning to tighten against muscles and bone, this isn't the you he remembers kissing goodnight last night. this isn't the you that would pepper kisses on his face when he expresses how tired he is after his shifts at the wangsheng funeral parlour.

this isn't who he fell in love with. this wasn't the human he should have never fell in love with because by gods, if there was anyone zhongli should have known to trust the least, it should have been celestia. he was a fool for thinking he could ever get away with loving a mortal, even after faking his death and attempting to step away from the title of the geo archon. he was still immortal up until his eventual erosion. he had still seen centuries past and people die around him.

was this celestia's curse upon you for his own regretful actions? the things he shouldn't have done and most certainly shouldn't have said? the sultry whispers and lingering touches that he knew was wrong from the start? but he loved you. he knew he loved you.

the scene of sharp branches coated in blood twisting and turning out of your mouth is unpleasant and the grass surrounding you is a distasteful red as he falls limp to his knees beside your growth - your corpse. his hands, free from their gloves, fumble with leaves and vines, attempting to pull them clear from your face in his shaking grasp as his thumbs gently wipe under your closed eyes, caked with dry blood.

your name falls from his parted lips when bitter tears sting his eyes for the first time in centuries. there's a raw emotion ripping him to the shreds and that was long buried in the depths of his very being - grief. it swallows him, forcing a choked sob from him as he hunches over what was his lover. he closes his eyes, holding his breath to keep from breathing in that sickening, overwhelming stench as he tries to remember your face from last night.

those distinct features he'd fell in love with, the glitter of your eyes and that smile he loved oh so much - he recalls the times hu tao managed to draw that smile onto your face with her mere presence. zhongli gags at the thought of having to tell her and the others about your death. does he lie again? you passed away in your sleep - but where has lying got him in the past? here.

why hadn't you told him? had baizhu been behind this too? after all this time he assumed the doctor could be classed as a loyal friend, zhongli realises that he was wrong. if he hadn't of kept it a secret, could zhongli have saved your life? the archon grimaces. this is not the time to be doubting the security of the relationships he has with the people around him. even as he contemplates the reasons you kept your disease secret from him, he runs over every thought of loving you.

to him, he would never love anyone or anything as much as he loved you. nothing could ever be comparable to his love for you; not even after all these centuries of aimlessly wandering teyvat and not even for all the future centuries that he would continue to walk, heartbroken and grief-stricken without you by his side for even a few more years.

you should have been her.

"i'm really starting to think college isn't worth it," you mumble, highlighting another line in your notes - you're hoping the pretty colours will attract your attention more, "when am i ever going to use this in the 'real' world?"

your boyfriend makes an evidently amused noise from where he sits opposite you, his slim fingers working diligently at typing on his laptop; the one that you had snuck a cat meme sticker onto, much to his dismay but he is still yet to remove it. it is silent for a few moments save for the exceptionally fast clicking of laptop keys before your boyfriend presses the enter key, his turquoise eyes flickering up to meet your already staring gaze. you smile sheepishly and he rolls his eyes, a crack of a smile on the corners of his lips.

"we're almost finished and you're giving up now?" he mumbles back into the quiet of the library, almost filled to the brink with students and their numerous cups of coffee. you recognise that alhaitham has a point but all of this seems excessive when you glance around at all the dark circles under people's eyes, hair tied up in messy buns and stomachs full of leftover food because they're lacking time to cook. a frown adorns your face and alhaitham is quick to pick up on it, clearing his throat as he fixes his posture, sitting straight.

"it's all we've done for weeks now, haitham," you pout, jutting your lower lip out. without realising, you'd just made your boyfriend keen in a matter of seconds, his eyes quick to look away before he's caught slacking, "can we go for a walk? anywhere but… here."

alhaitham can't deny that the pair of you had locked yourselves away in the library for far too long to the point where his limbs have gone stiff and he's sure his knees might sound like he's aged beyond his years when he stands up. this means - much to his disliking - that he also cannot deny you, his darling partner, this walk you're requesting.

"alright, fine," he groans, slamming his laptop shut before he turns his body to slip the piece of technology into his worn leather satchel. he doesn't miss the way your face he adores so much lights up almost instantly, your eyes twinkling and wide, "but you have to promise to finish this chapter tonight."

you don't even reply to him under the premise that it'd be unwise for you to make a promise you may not be able to keep, not that it would be your fault. your friend group had tendencies to rope you into unwise things, to say the least. it could be any of them; kaveh, nilou, cyno, dehya… you have the inability to say no unless alhaitham is there to beat you to it. you're thankful for his input when it keeps you on the right track throughout college.

with your fingers laced with alhaitham's own, the two of you begin to make your way out of the jail that is the campus library. the spring sun beams down a hug of warmth on sumeru during these months, slightly sticky with humidity. alhaitham is always less than pleased about the heat, more so when he has tasks to do that require him leaving his accommodation. to quote your boyfriend, this weather in his eyes is good for nothing at all but here you was, removing him from the safe confides of an air conditioned building that was nonetheless silent - that's his idea of perfection! he bites back saying his complaints out loud, only because it's you.

"do we have a destination to this walk?" alhaitham breaks the silence first, slightly out of character for your boyfriend and it shows when you glance over at him in mild surprise, your eyebrows raised. he scoffs, looking away. you take this moment to trail your eyes over the beloved features of your partner from his silver locks and the pair of white bluetooth headphones that hang around his neck at all times. he never parted from them, almost like how he never parted from you.

you shake your head when you realise you never answered him, clicking your tongue to your teeth as you admire the bustle of the college campus - usually a little too crowded for your own liking but today it seemed to be just perfect, at least it lacked to feel like a sweaty tin of sardines, "nowhere in particular."

alhaitham appears to nod out of the corner of your eyes, his own gaze falling to a patch of empty grass on the green in the middle of campus. he squeezes your hand to catch your attention, beginning to lead you silently as you weave through the aforementioned crowds you'd been mindlessly watching prior. you didn't question his sudden change in directions, knowing alhaitham there was always a possibility the man had gotten overwhelmed in the current situation. he settles onto the lush grass first, pulling you down at his side due to your joined hands which only earns him a yelp of shock and a glare.

"that was unnecessary." you comment stubbornly and a small noise comes from your boyfriend as he watches you finally settle down, resting your head on his shoulder with a sigh.

"this walk was unnecessary." he retorts, earning him a slap on his leg that curls his lips as he looks away, squinting to watch other students.

"it's good to get outside and feel the fresh air, haitham," you muse as your eyelashes flutter shut, relaxing as you feel alhaitham's thumb brushing over your knuckles subconsciously - this is just one of his many habits he does without realising but you most definitely notice every single one, "y'know… photosynthesis."

alhaitham scoffs, suddenly turning his attention back to you as he glances over your face while your eyes are shut. he takes in the way you styled your hair today and the minor details of your face you think nobody notices. seconds pass with no more words said before alhaitham leans to press his lips to you, catching you off guard as your eyes widen. pleased with your reaction, he pulls away with the faintest of a smug expression on his face as he dares to utter a response to your earlier comment, "love, we're not plants."

"sweetheart-" the petname rolls off your tongue effortlessly, a little exasperated perhaps, for how on earth had your boyfriend ended up in such a terrible mess in your short absence? you thought the task of measuring out the ingredients would be simple enough - what could go wrong? but the way pale skin is dusted in a light coating of flour, reaching as far as the dark fabric of his clothing and decorating the pretty length of long lashes lined around his eyes, you figured that possibly it wasn't simple enough.

ruby eyes disappear into creases as your boyfriend sends a sheepish smile your way. he's almost dressed to play the part of a househusband, silver tresses of hair with red streaks mixed in tied back - albeit a little messy - and there's a stupid slogan apron wrapped around his waist although it appears to have done nothing to save your boyfriend's outfit from a flour attack.

"i may have dropped the flour," he notes, slender hands gesturing to the mess of the kitchen counter that definitely took the brute force of aforementioned flour attack, "i think that might be too much flour."

he says this with a hint of humour, clearly joking as he gestures to the bowl sat upon the electronic weighing scales that indeed has too much flour in it - was he trying to make the densest cake on the planet? a sigh escapes your lips but you can't help the smile that creeps onto your face, unable to hide that the scene was incredibly stupid to look at. in response, kazuha's sheepish smile grows much wider - almost as if in pride from being able to make you smile.

"we can save this it's fine," you try to sound hopeful but the way the flour spreads across the kitchen counter, it almost seems like the baking equivalent of glitter, "hold the flour bag open, i'll try pour what's in the bowl back into it."

kazuha is quick to act, as he always is when it comes to tasks in day-to-day life. your boyfriend is efficient, apparently just not at measuring ingredients successfully. yet the act of attempting to pour flour back into the bag is met with mere failure when a cloud of white powder disperses into the air, making you too a victim of its power. kazuha can't help but grin at your expense, biting the inside of his cheek to maintain the laugh threatening to escape his lips when you stand, quietly processing what just happened.

"i don't think we can save this." he comments, his voice cracking when you blink the flour off your eyelashes and glance up at him. he's so close to giving in - it's a mess, sure but it's a small price to pay for the memories created. when kazuha finally breaks, unable to contain himself from your lack of words about the situation, your eyes gloss over how he leans against the flour covered counter, elbows coated in it as he hangs his head to try hide the fact he's laughing. his ponytail falls over his shoulder, dragging the ends of ashen blond hair through the powder without a care in the world.

despite this being an attempt to bake your birthday cake at home - you're not a huge fan of the designed ones in the supermarkets, - the two of you are really not suited to be bakers, especially not when either of you can witness the other's bad luck without bursting into laughter. feeling slightly humiliated, you turn towards the kitchen sink, eager to wash flour off your face that keeps tickling your nose - there's a sneeze on the horizon - yet kazuha's laughter is contagious, echoing in the silent kitchen when neither of you want to admit what just happened. you find yourself laughing with him and despite the previous feeling of humiliation, it's not a small laugh.

kazuha never fails to bring out that pure laughter in you, the one that hurts your sides and makes it hard to breathe because you simply cannot stop laughing - and when you try, you erupt into more laughter over the simplest of things. tears decorate your eyes, the kitchen filled with gasps for breath as you try to wave kazuha off, scolding him playfully and hushing him because clearly, it is his fault that you cannot stop laughing.

"will you - oh my god - stop that?" you cry, grinning as kazuha raises his hands to wipe the tiny glittering tears caught in his eyelashes but alas, the motion simply smears flour across his cheekbones and there it is again, that suffocating laughter that erupts from your chest and has you turning your back on your boyfriend in attempt to calm down.

the kitchen begins to die down into a calm silence a few moments later, minus the small breathless laughs and content sighs at your own stupidity. kazuha watches as you wash your hands under the kitchen sink, your cheeks hurting from that grin you couldn't wipe off your face. at this moment, he takes the opportunity to admire you. he admires all the blemishes that you say you hate, the small things about your body that you're insecure about. maybe he's admiring the crooked tooth you've hated since you was young or the spots dotted across your face that you frown at every time you see your own reflection; perhaps he's admiring the silvery tiger stripes painted along your thighs, hips and upper arms that he knows you've googled how to fade or the faint scars littered across your body for numerous reasons.

he admires you.

everything about you.

to kazuha, he couldn't possibly love you more than he already does. if there was a bar for how much he loved you, it would be exceeded. if his love was a pot of boiling water, it would be bubbling over the sides onto the stove. he's reminded when he hurries out of your shared house, pressing more than one chaste kiss to your lips because despite being late to band practise - he lost track of time wrapped up in your arms on the couch, - he finds you addictive. as if by chance, you feel the same way. it's a dangerous scenario when presented to the concepts of time, appointments and adult responsibilities.

the pair of you wouldn't have it any other way.

soon the glow of streetlamps that have turned on in the absence of daylight paint the kitchen in a warm gold through the windows, decorating the walls in shadows as you gaze upon the mess you've created, fingers laced together as you stand side by side. somewhere in the distance, a church bell begins to chime as midnight strikes and kazuha pulls you flush against him, his hands moving to wrap around your waist with a loving smile as he rests his forehead against yours. the tips of your noses brush, one being much colder than the other as you feel kazuha's warm breath on your face; you can smell the faintest of fruits he snacked on earlier.

"happy birthday, my love." he whispers wholeheartedly as you listen to that echoing chime continue into the silence of the city, his lips delicately pressing to yours in the most gentle act of love, his thumbs brushing patterns against the small of your back comfortingly.

kaedehara kazuha undoubtedly remains your home, your four walls and your hearth. he stands to be the sole person who kindled your dying fire and he'll forever be the one to protect it from the harsh winds of life.

"how about we just buy some cupcakes tomorrow instead?"