#monstadt

It was truly a lovely evening. The sun shone behind a thin veil of clouds, not too strong, but not too faint either. The sky was a serene blue, and its reflection in the stream beneath was just as peaceful. The forest was just as in much grace as the sky above it: all life and vibrancy in this time of the year. The bushes were in full bloom, the trees stood proud and tall, the birds sang their never ending lullaby…

Indeed, a sight for those who are willing to take some of their time and look. Your rug had been spread less than the quatre of an hour beneath the shadow of the most dense tree you could find next to the stream, a light scarf hanging to your shoulders, and a basket of yarn at your feet.

What more could you ask for?

Days like this were your favorite all year round: slow, calm, and beautiful to carry on. So much that even your work, as repetitive and boring as it usually gets, becomes less of a tedious duty, and more of a hobby for you to enjoy.

Oh, and there was the wind. Breezy, ever so light, balancing the warmth of the sun above and the freshness of the stream a few feet away. If you stopped your work for a moment and closed your eyes, you'd almost start to hear it harmonizing with the rhythm of both the birds and the water running.

You smiled to yourself. "Will you come out at last? Even with all of my patience, I'm afraid I can't bear with the awkwardness any more." You whispered to the wind, tone poorly masking its mirth.

The wind, of course didn't reply. But something else did.

You felt a shift in the foliage above your head, then heard the soft creaking of a weight settling down on a thick branch in the tree across from you, and the slow fall of a snow white feather that ended up in your basket.

"Aw, so fast to blow my cover yet." A familiar voice crooned. You didn't need to lift your gaze to discern the teasing mock-disappointed lit it held. "What was it this time? I made sure not to move around so much."

The ridiculousness of his words made you laugh softly. "The wind was singing. It never does unless you are around." You put down the half done piece in your lap, tilting your head just in time to see his roll his eyes with a delighted laugh.

"Oh, please. I could have made it sing even if I wasn't here." He crossed his legs, a hand under his shin, wings shifting behind him as he leaned slightly forward. "I don't believe this is enough for you to tell I was here."

"Did it work?" You replied, lips twitching in a somewhat cheeky smile.

All you got as a reply was a smile that was a bit too sweet for your liking. Before you could even take it back, a gust of wind, slightly stronger than the rest, brushed past you, lifting a few fallen leafs and making you squint your eyes. "Venti!"

"Yes, windbloom?" He only tilted his head slightly, not even bothering to hide his amusement.

"Archons above… You're unbelievable." You sighed, your smile bleeding through the feigned annoyance, one head lifted to brush the ruffled strands of hair back into place. "I'm trying to work."

"I can very much see that." He replied, shifting once more, wings flapping. One heartbeat, he was seated on the branch, the next, he was hoovering right beside you. His wings were huge, to say the least. At least a few inches taller than his own height. They could easily send the wind rushing with enough force to uproot the tree behind you, you'd wager. And yet, all that reached was the lightest puffs of air fanning your face.

Venti was perched on the lump of yarn in your lap. "Still working on that piece?"

"The onesy, yes." You lifted, showing him with pride how far you had come. "My sister is nearing her due date so she is staying with me. I couldn't find a time to work on it without her seeing me. To keep the surprise."

"Such tedious work. I'm sure it will come out as adorable." He replied.

"I hope so. I even made matching socks for it!" You pointed at the pair in the basket. "For when the baby takes their first steps."

"I've always found it fascinating." He mused, winking as he lifted himself a bit higher. "But flying is so much more convenient."

"It seems like it. But walking does the trick as well." You shrugged. "I mean, there must be times when walking is more practical than hovering around, no?"

He simply chuckled, giving a few unnecessarily strong flaps. "I wouldn't quite say so. My wings had been of the utmost use since… well, since forever."

That made you pause before asking with a grin. "So… How often do you walk instead of flying around like a chicken that had forgotten how to land?".

That earned a shoulder-shaking laughter from him. "Okay now, first of all, do not compare my wings to anything, please. I quite cherish them. And second, I don't walk. I don't need to."

"Explains why your legs are so thin." You muttered under your breath.

"What did you just say?" One eyebrow rising was all you needed to understand that one more joke would have a centuries' worth of songs written about you as the one who died from one too many strong wind currents.

"Nothing." You flashed him an exaggerated innocent smile. "But seriously… You don't walk?" You repeated, a bit too surprised by such revelation.

Maybe revelation was a strong word, but you really were incredulous.

"The texture of the ground isn't always the best. Gravel is horrendous to walk on, and grass sometimes isn't thick enough to cushion the steps from the mud and pebbles beneath."

"Yes, Venti. That's why we wear shoes." You replied, deadpan.

He laughs, slowly lowering himself until his feet landed on the rug next to you as he stretched one hand to you in invitation. "Would you do me a favor then and teach me?"

You blinked, unsure if you heard right. "Teach you? Teach you what, exactly?"

"Walking, of course." He beamed, and you almost started to suspect that he was enjoying to see you so miserably thrown off by his antiques. "It's only fair after you made fun of me, isn't it?"

You sighed, setting the yarn and hook back in the basket before taking his hand. "How can you not know how to walk? At your age?"

He only flashed you a bright smile, radiating nothing but innocent -debatable- delight.

You dusted your skirt before gathering it with your hands, lifting the hem until it rested right bellow your knees. "I don't know how to explain, but look."

You took a few steps back and forth. Then you walked back to him, offering him your palm. "Walk with me?"

You spent the next few minutes walking, ever so slowly, watching him as his own unsure steps mirrored yours to the tiniest details. It wasn't perfect, of course. More than once, you'd feel his wings twitching as if he were about to take off, only for him to laugh it off as instinct.

He wasn't ashamed of tripping. If anything, you almost believed he enjoyed it. Because once you had let go of his hand and let him move on his own, he barely took to more steps before one of his feet caught on the the other, earning a startled yelp from him. You moved, reaching out to steady him, only to find yourself dragged down as well faster than you could process.

You found yourself on the ground- no, on something a bit warmer, as soft as it is firm. "Ven-"

"Shh. Listen." He hushed you softly, arms wrapping around your shoulders to prevent you from sitting up. That was when you realized that it was his chest steadily moving beneath your head.

You strained to listen, but nothing came. You blinked, trying to focus, to not get distracted by the way his wings were slowly closing around you.

You shifted, trying to angle your head to prevent him from seeing just how red your face was becoming.

"Hold still for a moment, windbloom." You felt the whisper reverberate through his chest before your mind registered it.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, basking in the warmth of the sun, tucked into the soft cocoon that his wings made, a safe space for this embrace that neither was really willing to give up on.

It was only after so long that he finally let his arms loosen from around you. You used the chance to move, sitting up. "What was that about?" You looked down at him, confused until you saw how his face was flushed with an adorable shade of pink.

"I was just taking a break. Walking is tiring. Is it so wrong for me to enjoy?" He admitted with no shame or guilt, not yet moving, merely keeping his wings around the two of you.

You felt your face heat up. How could he say such things with so little care? Did he not know the effect his words hard? No… No bard would be that oblivious to what leaves his own mouth. This realisation, somehow, just made it worse for you.

"Venti." You pursed your lips, offring a purposefully stiff smile. "Don't talk to me until you can run leaps around here."

And now it was your turn to enjoy the sight of his smile dropping and the sound of a whiny call of your name as you moved back to the shadow of your tree.

༄˖°.🍃.ೃ࿔*:･༄˖°.🍃.ೃ࿔*:･༄˖°.🍃.ೃ࿔*:･

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