#odorawrites

“No, no, it’s alright.” You sat up, resting against the headboard. “The light doesn’t bother me.”

Xiao put his brush down on the porcelain dish of ink. His light footsteps reached your side. The mattress dipped slightly as he sat by your feet. Even in the low light, you made out his soft, concerned gaze.

“Then, can I do anything else to ease you?”

You smiled. “I do have a request.”

Reaching out to the bedside table, you picked up a book–Moonlit Bamboo Forest.

“Could you read to me?”

“Read to you? Aloud?”

Xiao’s brow furrowed. Not in protest at your request, but in confusion that he would be suitable orator.

“You have a lovely voice, Xiao,” you said fondly. “I still remember the time you read some poems to me. I should like to hear that again.”

Xiao coloured instantly. He cleared his throat. He didn’t know whether to be more embarrassed at the compliment of his voice (a quality that he did not believe anyone noticed let alone found pleasant), or that you remembered he had written poetry before.

“I-if this is what you wish then…”

He took the chair from the table and placed it right at the head of your bed. He sat, taking the book from you.

“Lay down,” he gently instructed.

You pulled the blanket up, turning your body towards him. You could not see his face from your angle, only his gloved hands that flipped the pages of the book.

“Between the rustling emerald curtain of foliage, in a spot where the croak of frogs and shrills of cicadas meet, lies a corner of the forest that is withered and dry, just near the wetlands beneath the mountain crags.”

As he began, Xiao’s intonation was rather stilted. He had never read aloud like this. Archons, he didn’t even remember when the last time was that he opened a book like this. However, as he glanced down at you, your face relaxing and attention wholly focused on him, he too relaxed.

“The bamboo forest of Mt. Qingce is the verdant home to many fables. After a spell of rain, a cadence of drips and drops can be heard bouncing from the bamboo leaves and hollow bamboo stalks.”

Xiao’s confidence improved as he continued. His smooth, measured diction paired with his gravelled voice was the exact remedy you needed. The restlessness that tormented you shortly before quickly disappeared. Your eyelids fluttered closed. You swore the book did interest you, and that you and Xiao should continue it another time, but for now, your mind drifted off to landscapes of quiet bamboo forests in silvery moonlight.

Xiao kept looking from the page to you. When he observed the evenness of your breaths, he trailed off on his final sentence. With a light touch, he tucked stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“Sleep well,” he whispered.

Careful to not rouse you, he walked over to the still burning lantern and blew the flame out.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

⟡ 𝑾𝑨𝑵𝑫𝑬𝑹𝑬𝑹

Researchers don’t need sleep was a general principle among all members of the Akademiya who spent many long hours poring over papers and deliberating over data. It was therefore unsurprising to find Wanderer still awake in the dead of night, thoughtfully reading a piece of parchment, with various others strewn on the table in front of him. You trudged over to the concentrated Driyosh. Wanderer looked up. He saw the blanket wrapped around your shoulders like some sort of cocoon.

“Didn’t you say were going to sleep an hour ago?” he asked, lips curled in amusement at the grumbly expression on your face.

“I would have had an easier time sleeping if someone cared to join me as well.”

“Am I just some kind of teddy bear to you?” Wanderer scoffed.

You responded by plopping beside him on the lounge, covering his body in the blanket as well. You inched closer, your body flush against his.

“Maybe.”

Wanderer had to admit that the warmth radiating from you did feel nice. He could have easily closed his eyes and spent the night listen to your steady breaths. However, the whole ordeal from his excursion to Nod Krai left him with a mountain of information to sift through and organise.

“I said I’d join you after I was done reading through this.”

You rested your head on his shoulder. Wanderer relaxed his posture, letting you adjust.

“In that case, it’ll be three days until I see you get some proper rest. Must be hard being the best scholar in Vahumana.”

Wanderer rolled his eyes. “You don’t need to exaggerate.”

He observed how you snuggled beside him. Half-lidded eyes gazed over the table of papers, trying to figure out what he was working on.

In a low voice he said, “Just tell me if you need help getting to sleep.”

You grumbled at being found out. He chuckled.

“What are you working on, then?” you asked.

“Sorting through my observations from Nod Krai. There were large energy fields that appeared that engulfed large parts of the nation. After studying them, a colleague of mind found then to be made from pure Light Realm energy.”

“Like the realm of the primordial beings?”

Wanderer hummed in approval. “Yes. The creation of those primordial energy fields was a result of harnessing the powers of the Three Moons. One of those, however, was man-made. The ability to create artificial authority that is not rejected by the laws of this world and rivals even its original primordial power. It’s maddening to think about.”

He went on. Discussing his observations and thoughts about the function of the Three Moons and the recreation of divinity. Wanderer slowed when he saw your eyes close. He quietened his voice to a near whisper. He was too busy watching you that he lost his train of thought and began talking about the sights and people he met in Nod Krai. Saying anything just so you could be lulled. Against his shoulder, he felt the gentle rise and fall of your chest.

Wanderer wrapped the blanket tighter around you. He too closed his eyes. His papers weren’t going anywhere. They could wait until morning.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

⟡ 𝑰𝑳𝑳𝑼𝑮𝑨

It was rare that Illuga had a prolonged stay at Piramida, so on the first day of his break, the Lightkeeper was practically glued to your side. However, it would not be long until he had to be taken away at by invitation from his squad members to go for a round of drinks and a warm meal. You heartily encouraged it, despite his pouting at needing to be away from you. The late afternoon turned into night, and the moon’s appearance over the city was as brilliant as ever.

The bed in Illuga’s home was quite cosy. It had been some time since its use, so he had spent the morning cleaning and replacing the sheets and covers. The feeling of freshly washed linens and faint smell of soap should have been the most lulling experience. Yet you were feeling strangely fidgety. Unable to doze off, you heard a door opening and shutting ever so slowly. Even more so were the footsteps that followed. So light and cautious as if causing even a single creak of the floor would be an utter offence.

“You’re back,” you greeted, sitting up.

Illuga looked like a Rimehorn deer caught in the headlights. “I’m sorry, did I wake you? I tried to be quiet.”

You laughed softly. “I could tell. It’s alright, I wasn’t asleep anyway.”

Illuga hung his coat on a hook and slipped into bed with you. He had changed out of his uniform already into some basic sleep wear. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around you, letting you curl into his embrace and feel the soft material of his clothes. He traced a hand along your back. You reached up to his silvery hair, brushing some strands so you could see his eyes.

“Can’t sleep?” he whispered.

You nodded. “I can’t remember the last time we could be like this without one of us needing to get up early or stay out late. I think that’s why I can’t go to sleep. I feel like I need to be doing something.”

“Sleeping feels like a luxury to us Lightkeepers,” he sighed deeply. “I understand you completely.”

“How was meeting with your squad?”

Illuga smiled. “It was great. I can’t even count how many rounds of Tabletop Troupe we played. I’m certain the staff at the mead hall were grateful when we finally left from how competitive we were getting.”

You shook your head. “They were probably glad to see Ratnik so lively in spirits.”

“Oh, lively is definitely the word for it. Anleifr was this close to flipping the table when he lost four times in a row.”

Illuga continued. He repeated what they talked about and the silly bets they made. One of which was initially to eat a mandragora, which everyone but lluga had a strong repulsion for, so they settled on taking a bite of a glimmerfruit.

His talking stopped when Illuga felt your head rest against his chest. Surprised, he brought his hand to your face and caressed his thumb against your cheek. You continued to snooze against him. He quietly chuckled. All his chattering had been the solution for your sleeplessness.

“Good night,” he breathed.

He kissed you on the forehead gently. With you so soundly asleep in his arms, how could he not rest easily as well?

You nodded. “Yes, Zayne, I do think it’s an important step.”

His eyes narrowed at your continual uncharacteristic responses.

Folding his arms, he mused aloud. “It took you some time to drop the title ‘doctor’ for me and to just use my name. After we became official, you were quick to call me ‘love’.”

You fiddled with your necklace, trying to, impossibly, force away the heat from your face.

“So, either I did something to make you upset, or”—he leaned in close to you, the side of his face almost touching yours—“you’re playing a trick on me.”

You gave a mock frown. He cocked his head to the side, awaiting your response.

“Okay, okay, it was a prank.” Sighing, you surrendered to his deductions. “I wanted to see how you’d react, but you saw right through me,” you mumbled.

His lips quirked. “I’ve known you for long enough to figure these things out.”

Wanting to wipe off the amused look he had on his face, you quickly planted a kiss on his cheek. His face turned into surprise. He chuckled, shaking his head at your triumphant smile.

“Thank you for helping me, my love."

SYLUS ⟡

“Sylus, could you play that new record you bought?”

You called from the sofa. Standing by the record player, he turned to face you. The offence on his face was unmistakable as he placed his hands on his hips.

“Sylus?” he scoffed. “We both know that’s not what you call me.”

Your brows furrowed, feigning confusion. “What are you talking about? Isn’t that your name?”

“Sweetie,” he levelled a look of scepticism at you, “that hasn’t been my name for the past month we’ve been together.”

“I still don’t know what you mean, Sylus.”

He paused. Gears turned in his head trying to unpack what was happening, much like he would do when reading the truthfulness of a dealer during a bargain.

“Y/N.”

You’ve never heard your own name being said in such a serious manner. Perhaps you got a taste of your own medicine.

“I’m not particularly fond of lose-lose situations.” The softness in his tone made you feel weak. “You can tell me if I’ve done something to annoy you. I won’t be angry.”

“Not at all!” you quickly blurted out. Unable to hide it any longer, you confessed. “You haven’t done anything to annoy me. I was just trying to pull a small prank.”

All the tension visibly released from his body. A relieved sigh escaped him. “You really do play some dangerous games, kitten.”

Playfulness returned to his voice. “Now then, how will you correct your mistake?”

“Honey,” you drawled out each syllable, making it sound as syrupy as the nickname itself, “could you play that new record you bought now?”

Sylus couldn’t help but laugh at your exaggeration. “Why of course.”

XAVIER ⟡

“Xavier, do you want to try this?”

Subtly glancing at his reaction from the kitchen, you saw his face immediately fall into a pout. The look was fatal, and it took all the willpower you had not to drop the ruse right then and there.

“That’s not my name,” he answered.

“What do you mean?” you chuckled, continuing to put icing on the sugar cookies you baked. “Of course it is!”

“No, it’s not,” he insisted.

Placing his book down, he walked to stand at your side by the counter. You avoided his eye contact, pretending that nothing was amiss.

Resting a hand under his chin, he began to think. “You usually call me bunny, sweetheart, sunshine, or darling.”

Your jaw dropped in amused shock. “You remember all the names I’ve called you?”

His mouth twitches. “There are some more, but… they might be a bit embarrassing to say aloud right now.”

That was enough to make you look at him with wide eyes.

“Xavier!” Your face turned pink as you slapped his shoulder. There was no force behind the hit, but enough to convey your embarrassment.

“You did it again. You used the wrong name.” He stuck his bottom lip out.

You gently poked at his cheek, trying to lift the corner of his lip upwards. “Come on, don’t be sad darling.”

Immediately, he brightened before you.

“It was just a joke I saw couples do online. I wanted to see how you’d react.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “And was my reaction satisfactory?”

“I think it was,” you smiled at him, "but it’s a shame I didn’t film it, it would’ve made for a good Moments post.”

He shook his head. “But, the nicknames we use are only for us.”

The finished cookie in your hand had a bite suddenly taken from it as Xavier leaned down to have a taste.

“I don’t want anyone else to know.”

RAFAYEL ⟡

“Are you ready to go yet, Rafayel?”

He continued to hum to himself, completely ignoring you. You folded your arms as you watched him busy himself with something trivial. He flung open a random cupboard and inspected what appeared to be an assortment of spare art supplies.

“Rafayel,” you called again.

He then turned his attention to the fishbowl in the centre of the room, where a small orange fish darted around.

“Reddie, do you hear something?” he asked, gazing so earnestly into the bowl. This fish paused its movement and stared back at his owner.

“Rafayel~” you sang his name aloud this time, extending the last syllable.

He gasped, apparently receiving some confirmation from Reddie.

“You hear something too? Thank god. I was thinking there must be something wrong with my ears.”

Surveying the room around him, Rafayel intentionally looked past you standing barely a few metres from him, tapping your foot against the wooden floorboards of his studio.

“It sounds like”—he continued—“some kind of voice. Someone familiar to me, but I can’t make out who it is.”

“Rafayel!” you shouted his name between fits of laughter. Only he could respond to your jokes with his own dramatics.

He sucked in a breath in puzzlement. “I wonder who this person is calling out to.”

“Baby,” you finally conceded, “I’m talking to you!”

It seemed like he couldn’t keep up the act either, as he started laughing with you.

“Took you long enough,” he huffed, moving towards you and linking your arm with his. “Otherwise, Reddie and I would have been searching for this phantom voice for the rest of the day.”

Until that point, he thought he had known what jealousy was. He had read it in books and seen it in TV shows, all of which portrayed jealousy leading to several outbursts and stand-offs. However, as he felt something rising from the pit of his stomach and burning in his chest, he understood that the purest kind of it now flared inside him. It was a dangerous emotion that clouded his mind and, before he knew it, his feet had carried him right to your side.

Mr. Chatterbox regarded Zayne with disbelief at his approach, standing up to properly greet him.

“Doc! What a rare sight seeing you personally greet a patient at the desk.”

Zayne paid only a cursory glance and the slightest nod of acknowledgement to him before his attention was narrowed on you.

“If you’d like to come in now, Y/N,” Zayne said, his voice smooth and warm.

You nodded. “Of course.”

As you walked, he placed his hand at the small of your back, pulling you closer to him by just a fraction. He turned his head to the side, enough so the young man could see his sharp eyes. Zayne wasn’t one for outbursts, so he hoped this calculated display was enough of a warning.

Watching Dr. Zayne disappear with you into his office, the receptionist muttered to himself, “Why does it feel chillier in here than before?”

Yvonne, a bystander to everything that just occurred, quietly approached her freshly hired colleague from behind. She delt a swift smack on his head with the edge of her palm. He yelped out in exaggerated pain, rubbing at the spot as if she had just given him a bruise.

“Could you be anymore oblivious…” she sighed, shaking her head. Her gaze then turned fiery as she began to scold, “And how many times have I told you to stop yammering around patients!?”

At the sound of Yvonne’s voice, he immediately redirected his efforts. Not even addressing his colleague’s prior criticism, he clasped his hands together.

“Miss Yvonne! How are you doing on this lovely–”

“Fax this, please,” she interrupted, holding a referral letter up directly to his face.

He gave a mock shiver, taking the paper from Yvonne’s hand. “So cold in this division.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“It seemed like you were making good conversation with our new hire,” Zayne commented, closing the door behind him.

You breathed a laugh. “He’s quite chatty. I guess it’s good to have someone so energetic working at the desk.”

That sensation within Zayne turned molten, though, you couldn’t have known with the coolness of his palm. What would be his intervention here? Maybe he needed to have a stern conversation with the young man, or perhaps he had to be more obvious in his affections towards you. He could never match the energy the receptionist had, so it would be impossible to achieve such a feat.

In his momentary stewing, you let out an uncertain hum.

“To be honest, he kept talking about himself... it was a little overwhelming,” you confessed sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck with your hand. “I couldn’t be impolite to him, so I just smiled and nodded at whatever he said!”

Instantly, Zayne’s mind cleared. His jealousies dwindled into nothing more than ashes. A part of him even felt silly at how intense he was feeling just a few seconds ago.

Unexpectedly, he rested his head on your shoulder with a sigh. Your eyes widened with confusion before you chuckled.

“Isn’t this a bit unprofessional, doctor?” you teased.

“Feel free to file a complaint to the hospital’s human resource division,” he retorted, not missing a beat.

Your mirth readily turned into concern at the affectionate display.

“But seriously, Zayne, is everything okay?” you asked, poking at his cheek.

Zayne lifted his head. He seemed to be, surprisingly, relieved. Though, you couldn’t figure out what exactly he would be relieved about.

“Yes, everything is perfect now.”

SYLUS ⟡

There was nothing that a deathly glare or a good shove couldn’t do to resolve Sylus’ jealousy. Warding off any unsuspecting parties was his speciality, especially if it involved them getting too close to you. However, the leader of Onychinus was thrown for a loop when his very own henchmen were sparking these feelings.

“You are… going out with Y/N today?” Sylus spoke slowly, as if sounding out syllables to a baby. “Is what I’m hearing correct, Luke?”

Kieran not-so-subtly kicked Luke in the shin. Luke stifled a groan. Rather than be on their way to Linkon (and to you), they were here being confronted by the boss. It was an unfortunate slip-up from Luke as they were about to leave, which caused Sylus to sternly halt their exit.

“Yes, boss.” Luke replied, trying to stand up straighter with only one good shin.

“And for what reason exactly?” Sylus asked.

Luke resignedly sighed.

“They wanted someone to–”

“Help clean their apartment!” Kieran quickly finished.

He turned and gave a pointed glare to his twin brother. You better follow along, it seemed to threaten.

Luke began nodding profusely, “Yep! Gosh, boss, you wouldn’t even believe the mess!”

“This type of menial work was probably too peasantry for you–”

“So, they invited us instead!”

Sylus’ henchmen stood there, looking quite proud of themselves and their innocent display. Sylus rolled his eyes at their dramatics. Luke and Kieran could do any task Sylus asked, no matter how dirty, and yet they were quite terrible at lying. Maybe he needed to teach them some skills in deception later. He dismissed them sharply with a wave of his hand.

“Go. Make sure to return before I leave this evening.”

The henchmen bowed, preparing to scurry away, but before they could, Sylus spoke again,

“Don’t take your eyes off them for even a second, do you understand?”

They turned back to Sylus and nodded, bowing once again.

“And–”

Sylus’ continual interruption of their exit left them in an awkward position right at the threshold of his office.

“–they don’t enjoy mopping, so I trust one of you will play the gentleman and take up that task.”

“You got it, boss.” Luke and Kieran said in unison before finally departing.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Sylus was planning on sleeping before your date in the evening, but that was completely out of the question now.

Hanging out with Luke and Kieran? To, supposedly, clean? He knew what they had told him was a lie. However, a small, burning part of him was frustrated. If that had been the truth, he naturally would have been the far better partner. With the time you had shared together, surely you had not so quickly found his own company lacklustre in comparison to his henchmen. He could have been in your apartment, with you, cleaning together. Instead, he was in his mansion, alone, and grumpy. Grumpy enough to open his tablet, and switch to his camera feeds connected to Mephisto.

He had asked if his skilled companion could do a bit of reconnaissance at your apartment to confirm what this ragtag trio were doing. As the camera feed loaded, he saw that your home was empty. Internally, he cursed. Mephisto flew down to street level, and, as luck would have it, three familiar people stepped out of the apartment complex. Luke and Kieran were there (wearing face masks and caps that disguised their faces as opposed to their crow masks) along with you.

Sylus sat up in his bed. 

He followed this trio as they walked to a nearby clothing store. Unfortunately, it would be considered odd for a crow to be indoors, so all Mephisto could do was perch atop a bench in front of the establishment and watch the three of you retreat inside behind the automatic glass doors.

Tossing the tablet aside onto the silk sheets, Sylus crossed him arms. If the thought of not being able to clean with you had made him grumpy, then seeing that he was not invited to shop for clothes with you truly made his blood boil with jealousy. As he attempted to get some rest, he thought about casual ways to mention on this evening’s date how he could rent out entire department stores for you if you wanted.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Sylus tapped his dress shoes rhythmically against the floor, awaiting your door to be opened after he had rung the bell. He had arrived at exactly 5 o’clock to pick you up, and although he was always well put together, he put in a little extra effort on his hair this time.

He heard the door unlock, slowly opening to only reveal your head poking out. He cocked his head to the side.

“Sweetie, are you trying to hide from me?”  

“Mmm, think of it more like I’m building anticipation,” you explained with a grin on your face.

Sylus laughed fondly. He leaned his own head against the wall beside the doorframe, turning to look at you.

“Consider me sufficiently anticipated,” he replied. “Now, may I see you?”

You gestured for him to move back so you could give a grand reveal.

“I just bought this today.”

The door swung open, and you stepped outside.

“How do I look?”

Very little could surprise Sylus; however, you had utterly blindsided him in this moment. You were wearing a dress that Sylus didn’t recognise from your current wardrobe. He knew then that the outing with Luke and Kieran had been to surprise him with a new dress for your date.

Flowy, ruby fabric draped against your figure, reaching down to your ankles. His eyes followed the heart-shaped neckline that framed the pearl necklace that rested at your collarbones, matching the accessory in your hair. All this prepared just for him.

“You look absolutely radiant,” he breathed.

Closing the distance, he snaked a hand around you, toying with the smooth material under his warm fingertips. Seeing how gorgeous you were almost alleviated his earlier frustrations, until he came to a sour realisation.

“Though, I can’t help but be… annoyed that Luke and Kieran saw this surprise before me.”

You bit your lip. Of course, Sylus had figured out what his henchmen were doing throughout the day. His voice grew deeper as his lips brushed against your ear.

“Next time, kitten, you should invite me to go with you instead.”

XAVIER ⟡

It took very little to spark Xavier’s jealousy, as much as the man himself would want to deny it. Strangers, colleagues, and acquaintances could cause his unassuming appearance to transform into a hostile front if they got too friendly with you. But today was another ordinary workday, so there would surely be no situation where Xavier should feel such a way.

There had been a string of quiet days at the Hunters Association that meant that Team Alpha could finally make use of their office. Namely you and Xavier, who usually were assigned to field missions. Your neglected chair squeaked under your weight as you stretched your body, lifting your arms high into the air then relaxing. Twirling the pen in your hand, the words on page about recent energy fluctuations seemed to swirl in your vision. Xavier turned from his own desk to observe you.

“I’m going to get a drink from the vending machine.” He stood up, the wheels of his chair clattering against the hard floor. “Do you want one too?”

“Green tea, please,” you replied.

“Warm or cold?”

“Cold,” you decided. You clapped your hands against your face, squishing your cheeks. “I need to shock my system to wake it up.”

Xavier’s face broke into a smile. “Sounds like a good plan.”

Before he could walk away, a voice called out your name.

“Morning Y/N!”

Xavier narrowed his eyes slightly at the approaching man.

He was tall (though not as tall as himself), with ashy hair precisely tousled to reveal his forehead, and friendly eyes. Xavier’s senses heightened in the same way as they would in a battle with a Wanderer. The unfamiliar man had greeted you with such familiarity. Only two words had been spoken, yet it was enough to irk Xavier. If he had called you less kindly, that would have helped to lower his guard.

To his surprise, the man turned his attention towards him.

“Ah, you must be Xavier! I’ve heard much about you.” He extended his hand. “I’m Andrew, head of the Data Analysis sector.”

Xavier stared at Andrew’s hand for a moment—blinking and discerning. Head of Data Analysis… Is this some kind of power move? He gave the hand a brusque shake.

“Excuse me, I need to get some drinks for the two of us,” he said, turning on his heel and walking away to the office’s break room.

Andrew furrowed his brows as he watched Xavier leave.

“Quite elusive, isn’t he?”

You shook your head.

“Maybe when you first meet him. But once you get to know him, you’ll see just how reliable he is.”

The tenderness in your tone came unconsciously to you, but it always happened when you spoke about Xavier to others. Especially towards those who might misinterpret his neutral disposition.

Small talk continued over the next minute between you and Andrew, until he suddenly looked at you with a slight frown.

“There’s an eyelash on your face,” he said, pointing vaguely to the left side of your face.

You used your fingers to swipe across your skin, yet Andrew still shook his head.

“No, no. It’s right here.”

He brought his finger closer to show you exactly where it was.

The dull thud of plastic bottles falling to the ground could be heard a couple of metres beside you. A blinding light zipped through the air, alongside a gust of air that swept your hair back. Before you could even register what had caused this phenomenon, Xavier appeared between you and Andrew. Your wide eyes stared at his hand gripping Andrew’s wrist.

“Xavier?” you called in surprise.

Xavier seemed equally shocked at how instinctually he acted. One moment he had seen Andrew’s hand move closer to your face, and the next he was face-to-face with him.

“I-I don’t know what came over me.” He released Andrew from his iron hold. “I'm really sorry”.

With a small bow, Xavier braced himself, ready to receive the full brunt of anger from the Head of Data Analysis. He shuddered at the thought that this might be reported to Captain Jenna. Instead, Andrew shook his head calmly.

“Don’t worry about it.” He gave an understanding smile, observing your worried expression towards Xavier. “In fact, I do believe this was my bad.”

The abandoned green tea bottles rolled lazily beside the desks, and Andrew picked them up. “I’ll be heading off to my office now, I’ll see you two later.”

Handing the drinks to you and Xavier, you both expressed your thanks. As Andrew left, you turned to Xavier.

“Xavier,” you spoke slowly, “what exactly was that?”

He scratched his head and diverted his eyes from you.

“I saw he was getting too close, and my body moved faster than my head…”

It was hard not to react at how adorably guilty he looked.

What am I going to do with you? You thought, sighing in affectionate amusement.

“I know how it must have looked from afar, but there was just an eyelash on my face that Andrew was trying to point out,” you explained.

Again, you swiped a finger across your face. “I still don’t know where it is though.”

Your movements were halted as Xavier gently grasped your wrist. He leaned in close, examining your face. You felt his light touch against your eyelids as he took off the lash.

“You know, there’s a superstition about this,” he began, handing the lash to you.

“They say if you have a stray eyelash, you can use it to make a wish.”

He cleared his throat, the tips of his ears turning red believing his next words to perhaps sound a little childish. 

“So, I wanted to be the one who would give you that wish.”

RAFAYEL ⟡

Rafayel’s jealousy would make itself known to you the moment he felt it. Though he would hide it between clever, teasing remarks, it was cute to see how clingy he got when it happened. And there was no better situation to provoke such feelings than at a gala hosted by Flux Arts. Admittedly, it was difficult to get the artist himself to attend these gatherings that featured one of his own paintings, so Thomas had to devise a convincing reason for him to go. That reason, naturally, being you. If you were his plus one, Rafayel could certainly face any battle.

You stood in front of Rafayel’s painting now as he had left you for the moment to speak with Thomas. Even after being exposed to his work many times (both mid progress and completed) they still managed to instil awe within you.

“Fascinating, isn’t it?”

The voice pulled you back into the room, and you looked over at the stranger beside you. He appeared to be slightly older and was likely a wealthy, enthusiastic patron of the gala.

“Yes, it is,” you agreed. “It’s one of my favourites.”

In truth, you favoured it because you were there when Rafayel painted it. From start to finish, he had you at his side. Though abstract, upon closer inspection, one could extrapolate details of a city with glorious towers and vibrant, thriving coral. It held a special place in your heart.

The man’s eyes were glued to the painting.

“Rafayel truly is an artist you get once in a lifetime.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the sincerity in the gentleman’s compliment.

“It’s hypnotising to witness the scenes he creates,” he continued. “He seems to bare his soul in each painting.”

“He is quite an expressive man,” you commented, breathing a small laugh.

From picking out the perfect outfits to the perfect paint materials, passion infused every part of Rafayel’s life, including in his relationship with you. It was one of his greatest traits you adored about him.

The familiarity in your tone was lost on the man, who believed you to only be an admirer of the artist, and not an admirer of a different sort.

The conversation continued, and you discovered the man to be a professor of history. He had discovered Rafayel through his own interest in ancient civilisations such as Lemuria. You couldn’t help but beam with pride listening to the man speak so highly of Rafayel, and the impression his works had left on him. The man soon took his leave, thanking you for entertaining his enthusiastic ramblings.

You were so engrossed that you didn’t notice Rafayel with his arms folding behind you. He graciously gave you a few seconds to detect his presence. Though, his frown grew as you continued to be, supposedly, too starstruck from your earlier conversation with that stranger.

He cleared his throat loudly.

You spun around at the familiar voice.

“Raf! How long have you been standing there for?”

He shrugged with as much nonchalance as he could muster. However, anyone with two eyes could have guessed the annoyance on his face.

“Enough to hear the last bits of your conversation.” He strode to your side, arms still folded tight across his chest. “Found interesting company so soon after I left?”

You closed the gap between the two of you with a step, preparing to explain the true nature of that conversation. Not letting you interrupt his sulking, Rafayel continued,

“I need to be more wary. There are too many people here wanting to whisk you away from me.”

As soon as you walked into the gallery arm-in-arm, people’s eyes were drawn to the two of you. At his mention that you were the centre of attention, you had dismissed it, saying it was him everyone took interest in.

Tilting your head to the side, you placed your hands your hips, almost as if to say: Are you going to let me speak?

Rafayel quickly conceded, spluttering out his next question, “And why were you being so chummy with that stranger, anyway?”

“That stranger said he was a professor of history specialising in ancient cities, and that he’s been an admirer of your works for a long time,” you answered.

Poking at his cheek with your finger, you attempted to remove his pout that remained affixed on his face.

“I was being chummy because he was complimenting your work! It made me happy to hear that people have such high praise for you and your paintings.”

Rafayel’s pout disappeared.

“It just made me think… how proud I am to have you as my partner,” you smiled. “You leave a profound impression on people.”

Your words resonated in his head. He stood motionless, with only the slow blink of his eyes.

His lack of reaction made you flush.

“Ah, that was pretty cheesy, wasn’t it? I’m sorry–”

The apology stopped short in your throat as you were scooped into a tight hug. Rafayel’s arms wrapped around your waist. A few gala attendees looked over at the young couple with admiring gazes, wondering what could have happened that would cause such open affection.

Rafayel nuzzled his forehead into the curve of your neck, mumbling right by your ear, “Jeez, here I was trying to be jealous…”

Finished with your earrings, you looked up at him with a smile. It took every ounce of will for Zayne’s knees not to buckle and fall back onto the chair.

“I’m ready to go now,” you said, walking over to him, your heels giving a dull click against the hard floors.

“It’ll be a bit colder tonight,” was all Zayne could muster saying with most of his thoughts entangled by your appearance.

Your face immediately fell into a pout. With a disappointed sigh, you hung your head.

“Alright, I’ll go get something to cover up…”

Before your feet could even move to walk away, Zayne’s hands snaked around your waist. A short gasp fell out of you.

Beneath the thin fabric of your dress, you could feel the press of his cool fingertips. He held you in place with a firm grip, his body flush with yours. His lips brushed against the shell of your ear.

“Where are you going?” he asked, his closeness leaving shivers up your spine.

“T-to bring something to wear on top of my dress? You just said that it would be cold.”

His brows lifted, realizing the misunderstanding he caused. “I apologize. What I meant was I’ll bring my jacket for you to wear if it gets too chilly.”

Your stomach fluttered, though you didn’t know if it was due to the proximity of his body, his low voice, or his offer to keep you warm during the night out. You turned around in his grasp, meeting his gaze.

“There is no need for you to hide it beneath extra clothing if you want to show it off. You look beautiful in that new dress, my love.”

Now you knew exactly what caused those tingles in your stomach.

The direct compliments Zayne tended to give always affected you deeply. Combined with the nickname that rolled so effortlessly off his tongue, you were the one left entangled now. And he would admire you a thousand times more just to see that expression on your face.

”Perhaps I should change the color of my tie to match.”

“Dr Zayne wanting to do couple matching?” You feigned a gasp of shock, bracing a hand against his chest. “How unheard of!”

Zayne breathed a fond and quiet laugh. “Yes, I’ve been learning a lot of new things when I’m with you.”

𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐔𝐒 ⟡

“My, my, my,” Sylus sounded out as you walked into the kitchen. He chuckled in astonishment, the resonant sound warming your senses. “Don’t you look absolutely divine this evening?”

Sylus washed his hands at the sink and dried them off with a towel. He was in the middle of preparing dinner for the two of you when you made your grand reveal. Naturally, he had to stop everything to give you the attention you deserved.

“Do you notice anything different?” you asked innocently, hands tucked behind your back.

Sylus smirked. He rested his chin on his hand, indulging your theatrics.

“Hmm, let me guess… is it your hair?” he began, reaching out to tuck a strand behind your ear.

You tempered your expression, trying to remain neutral despite the corners of your lips curving upwards.

“Or… maybe your makeup?” he trailed his hand down to your cheek, lightly brushing against your skin with his thumb.

Sylus’ hand moved to rest at your back, guiding you closer to him. His gaze travelled from your head to your toes. 

“Ah, I know what it is.”

You were wearing an elegant black dress that reached your ankles—certainly fit to be in attendance at a high class function. The bodice resembled a corset, with faux boning running from the square neckline down towards the waist before disappearing before the skirt. Thin black straps tied off in ribbons at your shoulders. A necklace of silver and ruby dazzled under the warm lights of the kitchen. Contrasting with the rest of your outfit, rather than wear a matching pair of shoes, on your feet were your prized fuzzy slippers that you wore around the Onichynus base. Sylus could help but break into a smile.

Tonight’s date was a night-in after all, so comfort would be given number one priority.

“It’s this lovely new dress.” 

His compliment seemed to be amplified by the husk in his voice. You clasped your hands around his neck, pulling him nearer. 

“Correct!” you grinned. “It’s the one you helped me pick out, remember?”

He nodded. Two weeks ago you had gone clothes shopping together and stumbled upon this simple black dress. Sylus saw the way your eyes lingered on it, even after being alarmed by the price tag. You were prepared to say goodbye to it on the clothing rack. Little did you know, Sylus had already signalled to the shop assistant to have it wrapped up and sent to his home. 

“I do,” he answered, drawing small circles at the small of your back with his finger. “It seems we both have good taste.”

Your eyes darted away from his gaze. “I know you’re just making dinner for us, but I wanted to dress up a little.”

There was very little that could make the leader of Onichynus lose his composure, but the shyness on your face was enough to make him weak.

Sylus kissed your forehead. “Trust me when I say this, my dear, the gesture is greatly appreciated.”

He tilted your face upwards. Sincerity brimmed in his crimson gaze as he spoke, 

“You know you can wear whatever you want around me. Whether you dress up or dress down, you always look stunning.”

𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑 ⟡

Eyes growing wide as porcelain plates, Xavier watched with awe when you exited the bedroom. He’d never seen you wear this dress. He didn’t even know where to look first.

The white fabric ruffled in two tiers around your thighs, with loose frills lining the neckline, accentuating your decolletage. It was shoulderless, with long sheer white sleeves that extended from the dress. To complement its shorter length, you wore white lace socks that ended below your knees.

It was the embodiment of flirty and sweet, only made more so by the twirl you gave him.

“You got a new dress,” Xavier observed.

He walked over to meet you, a smile blooming across his face as you toyed with the ruffles at your neckline.

“Mhm, I did! How do I look?”

Xavier ran his fingers down the sleeve, feeling the material. He trailed the length of your arm, the light touch leaving goosebumps in its wake, until he reached your hand.

“The color is just like starlight.”

Lifting your hand up to his lips, he gave your knuckles a tender kiss. It was almost a scene from a storybook—a prince boldly showcasing his affection for his lover. Though, rather than a castle, you were standing in his apartment on his blue striped rug. It didn’t matter. For you, it was a fairytale nonetheless.

“You look radiant,” he said, looking up at you with admiration and… something else.

Xavier straightened himself and inhaled. Unexpectedly, he leaned over and began unlacing his shoes, taking them off his feet. Your face contorted with confusion. Whatever he was doing now was a stark difference in tone from the previous moment you just shared.

“Xavier… what are you doing?”

He neatly lined his shoes up on the edge of the rug on the wooden floorboards.

“Can we change the date to just staying in?” he asked.

“Huh? Why?”

His answer came in the form of pulling you into a hug and collapsing on the sofa with you. You gasped in surprise. Cupping your face in both his hands, Xavier began to kiss you. Starting from your forehead down to your cheeks. In that fraction of a second each time he pulled away, he eyed you—your expression a mixture of surprise and delight, the way your chest rose and fell in that ruffled dress. He continued his affectionate ambush, his gentle lips leaving your skin warm and rose-colored.

“Xavier!” you cried out, bursting into giggles.

Though you had your hands on his shoulders, you didn’t give much resistance, letting your partner shower you with kisses.

“We’re going to be late for our reservation—mmph!”

He finally reached your lips, slowing his movements, letting himself savor the faint sweetness from the gloss you applied. You too almost got lost, brain clouded by the familiar and tempting sensation. Xavier felt your hands tap his shoulders and he pulled back to find your lips in a pout.

“You know we’re never going to leave if we stay like this.”

Xavier sighed resignedly. “Okay, okay, we’ll go.”

Nodding his head he rested his forehead on your shoulder, as if it took all his strength to move away. “I just couldn’t help it. It’s hard to resist kissing you when you look like that.”

𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋 ⟡

Being a denizen of an underwater kingdom meant Rafayel had seen many pretty sights in his life. But, none would compare to when he was looking at you. Especially now when you walked into his studio wearing a new dress. His lips curved into a smile, unable to contain the wonder on his face.

The dress was made of a taupe-coloured chiffon with red flowers and olive leaves patterning the fabric. From the open window of his studio, the light breeze made the flowy material flutter around your legs. The waistline ended just below the bust, with a heart-shaped neckline that gave the perfect space for your shell necklace (given as a present from Rafayel himself). Your white sandals tapped against the floorboards, ready for your evening by the beach. 

“Is there a special anniversary I’m forgetting?” Rafayel asked, placing his hands on his hips. “Why am I receiving such a lovely gift?” 

You chuckled, speaking with a playful lilt, “Sometimes there’s no reason for nice things to happen. I just thought I’d try on something new.”

He approached, holding your hands in his. The swirl of violet and pink in his eyes gleamed with splendour. “You look beautiful, like you just stepped out of a painting.”

“You can thank Aunt Talia,” you said. “She helped choose it for me when she visited Linkon.”

Rafayel shrugged, though, there was pride in his voice as he spoke. “It’s easy to pick when you have a perfect muse like yourself.” 

With his hand still in yours, Rafayel stretched his arm outward, creating distance between you two before leading you towards his chest. You twirled into his arms like a ballroom dancer, the skirt of your dress dancing along with you.

He wished he had something to record your laugh in that moment—the pure delight in your voice. Perhaps he could keep it in a seashell for him to hold to his ear whenever he missed you. More of your giggles erupted when he swung you out from him once again. This time, when he pulled you in, he braced an arm around your back, dipping you. 

His face was inches away from yours. He looked at the pink dusting your cheeks, the sparkle on your eyelids, and the giddiness in your smile. The statement remained true. No other sight could compare to you.

Lifting you back to standing position, he kept his arms encircled at your waist.

“The fabric of the dress flows just like water,” he commented. “And the colour compliments you so nicely.”

Rafayel appeared entranced, as if he was staring at a rare artwork sitting in an illustrious gallery. Studying your features with that same painter’s eye. 

“You’re giving me that look again.” You lightly poked the tip of his nose with your index finger. “Am I to be the inspiration for your next piece now?”

He shook his head in amusement. “Cutie, you should see the margins of all my sketchbooks.”

“You’re always an inspiration to me, every second of every day.”

𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐁 ⟡

Waiting for you to come out of your room made Caleb’s stomach flutter in anticipation. It wasn’t dissimilar to the very first time he tried flying. The sudden change in speed and altitude. That momentary weightlessness before everything dropped. He didn’t realise being at your apartment in Linkon City, waiting to see what you were going to wear for the night, would provoke the same feelings as being in a fighter jet. He covered his face with his hand in an act of controlling himself–conscious of the effect you had on him. 

The moment ended when he heard your door click shut. Caleb turned around from staring at the photographs on the wall to finally see you.

At a first glance, the dress was simple–made of a silky material with no embellishments, and two thin straps at the shoulders. However, in the light, your green dress shimmered with iridescence. The gold that shone through the fabric shifted with every step you took towards him, ever changing depending on where the light was hitting you. 

Caleb folded his arms, his eyes shamelessly wandering up and down. A slow and intentional gaze that ensured he could memorize the image he saw before him.

You were practically beaming at him, and his own heart leapt from his chest.

“I don’t recognize this from your wardrobe. Is it new?” His question came out almost breathless. 

“It is, how observant of you,” you chirped. “What do you think?” 

You took one more step closer until he could reach out and feel the material for himself. It was smooth and delicate under his touch. He let it slip off his fingers before looking back at you, completely transfixed. 

“You look gorgeous,” he breathed. The earnesty in his voice made your pulse skip. 

“You know,” Caleb circled around you, hands at his back. It seemed as though he wanted to admire the dress from every angle, “any person in their right mind would want to get close after seeing someone as cute as you.”

Without you realising, he had actually cornered you against your wall of photographs.

He placed his left hand against the wall beside your head, satisfaction plain on his face. You puffed out your cheeks in mock annoyance at Caleb’s sneaky position switching. Only you got to witness this mischievous, boyish side to him. 

“I guess I’ll have to keep a lookout tonight,” he whispered in your ear before kissing you on the cheek.  

“Don’t worry, I’ll stay right by your side,” you reassured, patting his head. 

“Mmm, that’s good to hear.” He leaned into your touch, lips curved into a soft, nostalgic smile.

“I remember you weren’t too fond of wearing dresses when you were younger.”

“That was a long time ago,” you commented, brushing your fingers through his dark hair to tidy it up. “Things can change.”

He caught your hand in his, interlocking his fingers with yours. Warmth radiated through your palms. 

“Then, I want to see you in more pretty clothes like this,” he said. “Let’s go shopping tomorrow, I’ll get you anything you want.”

Everyone tried their best to ignore him, but sitting at the back of the classroom by the window was a dark-greened haired boy. His face was down, folded arms acting as a cushion. Xiao was a classmate of yours whose reputation followed him like stagnant air. He was known to have a violent streak, getting caught up in fights more times than attending school. People began to say that he was a part of an underground ring where people fought to the death. Though that was a while ago, and there was nothing now that would help change people’s opinions. The unusually coloured hair, pierced ears, scarred hands. It was hard for everyone to forget who he once was. Everyone talked about him like he was a ruthless delinquent, but all you had ever seen of him was that he was quiet and did whatever teachers asked of him.

“Can’t believe he was allowed to move up a grade,” the other replied, giving Xiao a side eye.

“Yeah, now that I think about it, I never saw him at school all of last year,” the first girl added. “I heard he threatened Mr Zhongli to let him move up. Pulled a knife on him and everything!”

You glanced at Xiao. They probably assumed he was sleeping and didn’t bother keeping their voices down. Still, it didn’t curb your alarm. Whether he could hear or not didn’t matter. Talking about him like this just felt wrong.

“What? To the principal? He’s crazy!”

She nodded solemnly. That seems a bit outrageous, you only thought. Was anything your classmates were saying even true?

“He should have never bothered coming back here,” the first girl sneered, “everyone’s on edge now. Isn’t our last year of school meant to be fun? Now it’s all ruined because of him! I don’t care, they should expel him before someone ends up–”

“Hey! Could you stop?”

You loomed over them. Both girls looked at you like you had just flipped the table. They slowly closed their hanging jaws.

“Excuse me?” one of them said, clearly offended. She stood up to meet your gaze.  

You didn’t back off. “It’s not right to talk about someone like that behind their back. Especially when we don’t know the full story.”

It looked like she was prepared to give you an earful, but she suddenly stopped. The same shocked expression from moments before was painted on her face again. Had your reprimanding really worked on her? You thought it was only this easy in movies and shows. Perhaps it was too effective as she remained utterly stunned.

You blinked and frowned. “What? Did I say something wrong?”

You felt someone place their hand around yours. Scars marked the skin of their knuckles. Their touch was delicate, as if they thought you would shatter with any force. You titled your head. Xiao was standing there, staring down at you. He didn’t spare any attention to your classmates, who were still dumbfounded at what was unfolding before them.

“Let’s go.”

You heard Xiao speak before, but you didn’t realise how gentle his tone could be. His expression was unchanging. It was the same frosty look he had on everywhere he went, causing everyone to shrink away. Though, you didn’t feel that fear at all. Instead, heat rose to your cheeks.

“What? Where?” you spluttered.

“Outside. Let’s eat together.”

He was now tugging on your hand. Did you really want to stay in this classroom? Gossiping and bad-mouthing someone right in front of them? You were planning on eating outside anyway. You let him guide you to the class door. He let go of your hand as you exited to the hallways, the warmth that had enveloped your fingers dissipating. He stuffed both his hands in his pockets, moving quickly in the crowd of students. Trailing behind, you watched everyone’s gaze follow the green-haired boy with a less-than-stellar reputation and his slightly bewildered classmate.

⟡

The school’s field was alive with activity. Students looking to get in extra practice running laps on the track or expending their restless energy playing soccer. Near the quieter edge of the field, beneath a tree just beginning to sprout white blossoms, you and Xiao sat down on a small bench.

“You said you wanted to eat together, but do you have any food?” you asked, tentatively.

Xiao rubbed the back of his neck, eyes darting away from your gaze. “I didn’t really think about that…”

As hard as you tried, you couldn’t stop a chuckle from escaping your lips. At your reaction, Xiao folded his arms. The move would have seemed tougher if he wasn’t pouting at the same time. Was this really the Xiao everyone feared? Now that you were closer to him, you could see how boyish he was. Nothing like the big and scary figure everyone whispered about. His usual stony eyes were brightened in the sunlight, and his unreadable face now was blushed pink, clear with embarrassment.

“Here,” you pulled out a small cup of almond pudding. “You can have it. I already ate one.”

He took it from your hand, muttering a thanks as he tore open the lid and began to eat it. You took a bite of your own rice.

“I’m sorry about before with what they were talking about.”

“You shouldn’t apologise for them,” Xiao responded without missing a beat. “You were the one who tried to stop it.”

You looked down at your lap. Even though you had told them to stop, you still felt guilty. This was probably the first time any of his classmates had had a proper conversation with him. Had no one really tried to get to know him? Sure, he may have been caught up with the wrong sorts of people in the past, but in the last few months he had done nothing but kept to himself.

Xiao saw your downcast eyes. There was a cold edge to his voice as he added, “There’s no need to feel sad for me, I’m used to it.”

That made you feel even sadder. You stuffed your mouth with more rice.

“It still doesn’t make it right,” your voice was muffled by food before you swallowed, “no matter how used to it you get.”

Remembering the words your classmates had said got you riled up again. You huffed, “I wouldn’t want anybody talking like that without me knowing, let alone when you’re only a few meters away! Like, saying you’re ruining this whole year just by being here? How rude can you get– Are you laughing at me?”

Sure enough, Xiao was bent over hand covering his mouth as he tried to hide his amusement. “I’ve just never seen someone get so angry on someone else’s behalf before.”

“Don’t go thinking you’re special or anything now!” you joked. “I’ll stand up for anyone.”

Xiao nodded. “I know. It seems like the type of person you are.”

The soft assurance he gave made your chest tighten. Xiao subtly examined your face. Your small smile creating dimpled cheeks, the flutter of your lashes, your hair tousling in the light breeze. This was the first time anyone had bothered to give him a chance. If this conversation, and you, have shown him anything, perhaps it would be alright to open up a little.

“I took remedial classes,” Xiao mumbled.

“Hm? What did you say?” you shuffled closer to hear him better.

“Why they let me move up a grade,” he said louder. The words fell out of him, as if saying them quicker would make him less humiliated at himself. “I took a lot of remedial classes during school breaks to catch up. The principal gave me a second chance, and I managed to pass to continue.”

To his surprise, your eyes lit up. “Really? That’s great!”

“I just passed, that’s all.” Xiao ran a hand through his hair. “It’s nothing special...”

“Still! It’s a great achievement. Trust me, a lot of our classmates wouldn’t be as studious as you.”

 “Y-yeah,” was all Xiao could manage to reply when seeing your beaming face. He needed to change the subject immediately.

“Where is that girl you’re always with?”

You blinked at him. “Oh, you mean Jahoda? She’s actually in the city today. She wanted to get those new figurines for this animated series we watch.”

Xiao cocked his head in recognition. “Rex Incognito you mean?”

You gaped. “You watch Rex Incognito? I didn’t think you were the type to be into it!”

Xiao cleared his throat. This was also the first time anyone had given him such sustained attention and interest. He began to talk about where he was up to in the show, which was quite behind your progress. You offered to give the figurine Jahoda would buy, and he shyly accepted, promising to pay both you and Jahoda back somehow. The wind carried white petals down from the tree, decorating the area around you and Xiao. Marking a blossoming of two sorts for the school year.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

⟡ 𝑾𝑨𝑵𝑫𝑬𝑹𝑬𝑹

Gossip from Classroom 2-1: Did you know, Wanderer was apparently suspended from school for a week once because he sprayed graffiti all over a teacher’s desk in the staffroom? All because the teacher gave him a bad test score!

“I’m begging you! I’ll owe you a favour, just please help me out.”

Your class president was pleading with you. He was about to go on his knees, and you had to drag him up by the arm to stop his dramatics.

“Come on,” you whined. “Why me? It’s meant to be your responsibility!”

“Have you even heard who we’re talking about here? It’s Wanderer, there’s no way I want to see him!”

You gave a long sigh. Wanderer was a classmate of yours who was not very liked by, well, anyone at your school. He had a short temper and a blunt attitude, prone to finding elaborate ways to curse someone out. From students to teachers. You just had to be fortunate that he woke up on the right side of bed that day. His violet eyes were always bored or filled with contempt, and no matter the season he always wore a black turtleneck to school. No one had ever seen his arms or neck bare. Rumours had gone around that he was affiliated with some gang, and the turtleneck was there to cover up all the upper body tattoos he had. They said he dealt in extortion, threatening innocent people to give their money away. That’s why he had such a foul mouth. Today, he had skipped school entirely, claiming he was sick. Which was why your class president was moments from kneeling before you to take today’s notes to him.

“And you’re close to him, right? It’s better you than me to give these to him.”

Your class president was shoving the folder into your arms, but you raised them up.

“Hah! Close is a stretch! I only knew him for a bit when I was what, eight years old?”

“Longer than me!”

You rolled your eyes, turning around and walking down the hallway. There were still a few students mingling, either preparing to go home or staying for extracurricular activities. Thankfully, no one paid attention to the scene your class president was causing. He scurried around you, stopping you in your tracks.

“Please, just this once.”

His eyes were so wide and desperate. It was honestly a sad sight to see how frightened he was. You snatched the folder from him.

“Fine,” you seethed. “You owe me big time.”

Your class president broke down in tears, repeating ‘thank you’ over and over. If you hadn’t stormed out of there quickly, he would have latched onto your leg, still giving his gratitude to you.

How the hell is he the class president again!? You thought to yourself as you put the address of Wanderer’s home in your phone, as the teacher instructed on the note they left. Should’ve made me a class president…

⟡

You reached a small home not too far from your own house. There was nothing alarming about it. No ‘KEEP OUT’ or ‘DANGER’ signs, or any yellow and black crime scene tape. Everyone is being so dramatic. When you were younger, you and Wanderer did hang out together, and he was never cruel to you. Then again, you were only children. A lot can change after you stop talking with someone as you get older.

You approached the front door and rung the doorbell.

One…two…three seconds passed. There was no noise inside. No indication there was someone at home.

This is a bit anti-climatic. You rung the doorbell again.

“Hello?” you called out. “Sorry to disturb. I’m from Class 2-1, I have notes from today’s classes.”

You then heard footsteps. Fast. Heading right towards you. There was a voice too.

“Aunt Nahida, I thought you brought the house keys with–”

The door suddenly swung open.

“–you.”

Standing at the door was Wanderer. The same purple hair and violet eyes as you saw almost every day for the past year. Yet, there was something different about him now. His eyes were softer, and his hair was strangely damp. H-hang on! You almost dropped the folder. Wanderer was half naked. He wore a pair of lounge pants; a towel wrapped around his neck doing nothing to hide in bare chest and toned arms right in front of you. What was most surprising though was that he also had tattoos. Not full body ones as the rumours have said, but around his collarbone and down his bicep. They were simple patterns, swirls resembling the wind. Nothing at all affiliated with any violent crime.  

“W-what!?” he stuttered out.

Wanderer immediately grew red in the face, which was incredibly obvious when he had no clothing on.

The door slammed shut. You froze in place. Your brain tried to process those last few seconds, yet it seemed to buffer. The door opened again, and you closed your eyes tight, bracing yourself.

“Idiot, open your eyes.”

You heard Wanderer’s deadpan voice. You warily opened one first and saw that he had thankfully put on a shirt. With his reputation, you thought he’d be a lot angrier. Instead, he had his arms calmly folded, leaning against the door frame.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m not going around opening doors with my upper body uncovered,” you remarked.

He scoffed. “Look, I thought you were someone else, okay? Just what are you doing here?”

“Here,” you held out the folder. “The notes for your classes from today.”

“Isn’t Mr President meant to do?”

You got irritated at the mere mention of that boy and gave a weary sigh. “He decided to outsource this time.”

Wandered smirked, taking the folder from you. You realised you needed to make a hasty escape. You had just seen the tattoos Wanderer had on his body which was strictly prohibited by your school. He would likely want to keep you here to make sure you didn’t do any talking.

“That’s it then!” you said, backing away. “See you! Bye!”

“Stop,” Wanderer lazily called out.

You could have just booked it, but some cowardly part of you still obeyed. You silently cursed at yourself and turned back around, a friendly smiled plastered onto your face. He walked over and grabbed you by your bag strap, dragging you back to the door.

“Hey! We’re not eight years old anymore, you can’t just do that!” you complained, trying to tug his hand away but the grip was too tight.

“Is it wrong of a me to want to invite a fellow classmate and old acquaintance into my house?” he answered, innocently.

“This isn’t an invitation, it’s a kidnapping!”

“Please, I’m barely using any force. Shoes off.”

You kicked off your shoes. Even in these circumstances, you still had to have etiquette. You clumsily entered, and Wanderer closed the door. The interior was homely. A living room and kitchen in the same open space, and stairs that went to a second floor. He sat down on the sofa, leaning comfortably back. He gestured to the space next to him. You groaned, feeling like a baby about to be scolded by a parent. Slipping your bag off your shoulders, you dropped onto the cushion.

“I know what this is about, I’m not going to tell anyone!”

Wanderer was unsurprised that you had figured out why he needed to talk to you. Other people would have been trembling in fear, probably thinking about which finger they liked the least to repay non-existent loans. You were always able to match his tempo, that’s why he liked hanging around you when he was younger. Out of everyone he knew, you could be the most trusted with knowing he had tattoos (which was honestly such a mundane thing that he didn’t believe needed to be kept so secret). So, was he just using this whole exchange as an excuse to have a proper conversation with you again? Maybe, but Wanderer would never admit to that.

“How do I know that? As far as I know, you could use it for fuel to start another ridiculous rumour about me.”

There was a bitterness to his voice. You did feel bad for him. Everyday people would spout the same wild stories about him, not even knowing if they were true or not. Hearing it so often could really wear someone down. He had been rather blunt as a kid, but never to the extreme. You always wondered if his attitude that fanned those flames was developed because of all the rumours.

“Come on, didn’t you say I was an old acquaintance?” you said. “What happened to trust and loyalty?”

“When faced against a collective, people can easily switch sides,” he shrugged, matter-of-factly. He had personally witnessed it plenty of times before.

“So, you want me to rebuild trust?” you offered.

Wanderer hummed in thought. He was wondering what plan he should devise, when someone entered the room. You hadn't heard the door open, too occupied with the discussion you were having. Someone you assumed was Nahida walked in carrying two bags. She also almost dropped them when she saw Wanderer with another person in his school’s uniform.

“Hi Auntie,” he waved. You detected a hint of smugness in his tone that you didn’t like.

“Wanderer!” Nahida said, placing the bags on the kitchen table, “Who is this? It’s nice to meet you.”

She walked towards you and you instinctively bowed in greeting. It was hard to believe Wanderer was close to any classmate to invite them over. Nahida assumed this was maybe a group project partner.

“Hello, I’m in the same class as Wanderer’s. I was just dropping by the class materials for today.”

“Ah! That’s nice, you must be the class president then?”

You shook you head politely, “Oh no, I was just helping. I’ll be heading off now. Thank you for letting me come in.”

Wanderer followed you as well. You kept your exasperation smothered, not wanting to make a bad impression on this much kinder relative of his. Wanderer played the role of a good host and opening the door for you once you wore your shoes.  

“Meet me at the corner of the street tomorrow morning at seven,” he suddenly said.

“Oddly specific,” you narrowed your eyes at him.

“It's at the end of both of our streets, so it’ll be easy us meet there,” he replied, looking down at his feet. You didn’t know if usual expressions of emotions could be transferrable to Wanderer, but if they were, you could tell he was being somewhat bashful.  

You relaxed a bit. “Why do you want to meet me?”

He looked up at you, eyes gleaming with amusement. This was the same playfulness you remembered from when you were both kids.

“It’ll be the start of our trust building.”

This was definitely going to be an interesting school year.

Finally giving the person a side-eyed glance, he recognised them to be a fellow Vahumana scholar named Mir. Whilst Wanderer could acknowledge Mir’s intelligence, he was far too soft-hearted for how stubborn he was. At that deflated comment, Wanderer stopped dead in his tracks. Mir wobbled, skidding on his feet to stop as well.

He considered using his flying abilities to leave Mir in the dust. However, this plan was only a fleeting thought as he recalled a stern meeting he had with staff at the Akademiya. They scolded that he wasn’t allowed to use his powers to avoid interaction with his peers. Something about misconduct and lacking etiquette that Wanderer half-remembered, choosing to nod along rather than actually listen to the prattle from the professors.

“Mir.”

He perked up. Wanderer could see his self-esteem reassemble at the mere fact that his name was remembered.

“What do you want?” Wanderer seethed, each word punctuated through gritted teeth.

If Mir felt intimidated at all by Wanderer’s ire, it showed little on his face. He only brightened further, seizing his chance to speak.

“I wanted to see whether you wanted to go to a social event later tonight at Lambad’s! There’ll be free drinks and food, and it’s really just a friendly get together to boost morale. It’s meant to be for us Vahumana scholars to catch each other up on the work we’re doing, and on what’s been going on in our lives,” he rambled.

What could simply be said in a few words Mir incredibly managed to do in multiple sentences. Wanderer let out a loud sigh.

“Mir,” he began, folding his arms. “Let’s say, hypothetically, you’ve just returned from a long and arduous trip from the desert where you’ve used all your energy up to explore ruins. Would you want to spend what little time off you have for the day going to a crowded tavern with people you only barely know?”

Mir stuttered. It was the most Wanderer had spoken to him in one go.

“W-well, that’s a good question! I guess it depends on what kind of-”

“Just answer it.”

Wanderer interrupted, dismissing Mir’s frivolous technicalities with a wave of his hand.

“Alright! Probably not! I’d just want to go home and relax.”

“And there it is,” Wanderer opened his arms wide, like a magician revealing their latest trick, “my response to your invitation.”

He turned smoothly on his heel and walked off. Mir opened his mouth to protest, but none came out. He stood there slack-jawed at his own words being used against him. Fortunately, he didn’t follow any longer.

Wanderer would probably short circuit if he bumped into anyone else right now. What he had told Mir was the truth. He was on his way home from the Akademiya just after returning from a 2 day trip in the desert. He would have enjoyed the expedition far more if his professor hadn’t dragged him out on such short notice. Most likely, she had seen that his schedule wasn’t as busy for the next few days and roped him into a project of ‘great academic importance’. Time that would have been spent doing whatever he wanted to at home had been replaced by sweltering weathers and endless scribing of ancient tomes.

Fate was a truly cruel force. Especially so when it separated him from you without warning. At the thought of his partner, he recalled how he announced his departure. He had to leave that same day, and you had already left for work, so he scrawled a note and left it on the table for you to look at when you returned.

My professor has taken me on an research expedition last minute. I’ll be back in 2 days time. I’ll make it up to you.

Kuni.

Perhaps he would come back to see the same annoyance he had when dealing with Mir on your face at such a lukewarm message.

There was an inexplicable weight in his body when he walked. A dragging emotion that humans would probably label as tiredness. He needed to get home and fast. If he did arrive to a grumpy partner, he wouldn’t mind it. You were the only person who was actually worth dealing with in his eyes.

He looked around. The sun had retreated behind the horizon, and there were only a few people mingling around the street he was on. Perfect. It was empty enough for him to not cause a spectacle. Wind kicked up around him as he swiftly launched upwards, flying high above roofs. This would certainly cut his commute time in half. Quietly, he navigated the familiar streets towards home.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Dots of yellow emerged below from hanging lamps across the city. The residents of Sumeru were preparing for the night, whether in revelry or idleness. The latter suited you more, as you began to unwind from a day of work and waited for Wanderer to arrive. The news that he needed to leave had surprised and saddened you a little. You were looking forward to spending more time with him over these few days when he wasn’t so busy with classes. If he kept to the words he wrote on that note, however, he would somehow make it up to you.

You held onto that hope as you folded clothes to be put away in the bedroom. Lost in your own thoughts, you didn’t notice movement outside as Wanderer approached the window on the second storey. Putting his face closer to the stained glass, your figure was rendered in an orange hue as he peered in. He tapped against the window with a finger.

You jumped with a yelp, turning towards the source of the disruption.

Honestly, you would have welcomed his arrival more warmly if the sight before you wasn’t so unexpected. Now, you couldn’t help but let out an incredulous laugh. Your boyfriend was hovering outside your bedroom window, staring at you like a rain-soaked cat waiting to be let inside.

You hurried towards the window, but didn’t reach out to open it just yet. Instead, you placed your hands on your hips, cocking your head to the side.

“We have a front door for a reason, you know.”

Even though your voice was muffled, he heard how you spoke in a sing-song manner.

“Well, I’m not at the front door now, am I?” He replied, matter-of-factly. “Mind opening up?”

Gesturing for him to step away a little, you unlatched the window and swung the glass outwards. Cool air immediately washed over your face, tickling your skin. He could hear the mild offense in your voice crystal clear now,

“I cannot believe this is how I’m being greeted after such a sudden departure-“

Your sentence cut off short as the wind got knocked out you.

Your boyfriend crashing into you mid-flight was a quick way to shut you up.

The force caused you to stumble back, falling to sit on the edge of the bed. Only then did the surprise settle in at what he was doing.

Wanderer had you in a tight hug.

Somewhat awkwardly, he was half-sitting in your lap, half-sitting on the bed. Shaking out of your stupor, you encircled your arms around his shoulders. Wanderer let his body fall limp, his feet now on solid ground. He buried his face in your neck.

“A-are you-”

“Don’t say a single word.” He said, voice low in warning. Though, the threat had little weight behind it with how he nuzzled into the hug.

Wanderer didn’t need to breathe to survive, but he had learned to inhale and exhale largely so that others wouldn’t gawk at him for his lack of breathing (he had honestly stopped doing it because of how bothersome it was to keep such a façade. However, after some convincing from Nahida about the necessity to get along with his peers, he begrudgingly adopted the habit once again). For you, it served another purpose. Clearly something or someone had riled him up earlier because his breathing had initially been huffed and short. Now, as he settled against your body, you felt the steady rise and fall of his chest, breaths slow and intentional.

“It’s only been 2 days, Kuni,” you pointed out with a soft chuckle.

His violet hair tickled your skin as he shifted his head, propping his chin up on your shoulder. Perhaps it was intentional that he kept his face out of your line of sight.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, “I know.”

“Then why are you acting like you haven’t seen me in months?”

Wanderer scoffed loudly. “Do I really have to spell it out for you?”

It was a shame you couldn’t see his face, for the way he closed his eyes and scrunched his nose in embarrassment at his own clinginess would’ve given you weeks of material to poke fun at him for.

“I think you do because I haven’t the faintest idea why you’re acting like this.”

There was no way he was falling for the fake, sugary innocence in your tone. You were an unstoppable force and he an immovable object. He chose to remain silent as you continued,

“Oh well, I guess I should go and finish folding these clothes if it’s nothing important.”

Abruptly, you removed your arms from him and went to stand. However, the grasp Wanderer had around your waist meant you could barely even move. Even bending over proved to be fruitless for you.

“Those chores can wait,” he muttered, interlocking his fingers together to hold you in place.

Despite knowing that you were messing with him, a small part of him was irritated that you even considered putting such a menial task above him.

You giggled at how touchy he was being. Your boyfriend could hardly come up with a word of affection without looking like he was going to combust, but would stop at nothing at the chance to hold you. You raised a hand to pat his head, smoothing his hair down. Every grievance he had over the past 2 days melted away with each pass of your hand. Archons, he even started to feel like he went a bit too harsh on Mir.

“Don’t worry,” Wanderer could hear the smile on your face as you began gently combing his hair between your fingertips. “I missed you too.”

Zayne voice was crackly through the microphone. His head was cocked in light amusement, staring directly into the camera. He knew your MO far too well. You tapped on the button to allow your voice to be heard.

“You always need to check whether the person at the door is who you’re expecting,” you answered, watching his holographic image.

He blinked away with a soft smile tugging at his lips. “Then, I hope I’m the right person.”

You closed the intercom and unlocked the door, meeting him face to face. To Zayne, seeing you at last was like feeling the sun warm his skin up in the morning. You presence urged him awake, and he felt his liveliness return once more. You were grinning, joy sparkling in your eyes as you spoke,

“Mhm, you’re the right one for me.”

Without speaking, Zayne opened his arms out, almost guided by some kind of gravitational pull towards you. His arms circled your waist as he rested his head against yours, breathing in the faint, perfumed scent of shampoo. You cradled against his chest and his heart stuttered. It felt so natural, like you were always meant to be in his embrace. A sigh fell from his lips, complete relief at being able to hold you again.

After a few content moments, he pulled away, straightening himself. He realized he hadn’t showered yet and needed to do so before anything further happened.

You closed the door as Zayne walked inside. He immediately noticed the plate of macarons on the table, the washed and fluffed pillows on his sofa, the bouquet of fresh flowers sitting in a glass vase. Traces of your kindness that he had missed dearly.

“I’ll wash up first.” Zayne said, before entering his bedroom. “Don’t worry about my luggage, I can sort it myself.” He collected a set of loungewear from his wardrobe and a towel before disappearing into the bathroom.

You sat on the sofa to wait for him, scrolling through Moments posts on your phone. Your gaze kept wandering towards the plate of macarons in front of you. They looked too enticing for you not to try. Surely Zayne wouldn’t mind if you had a little taste first.

As if on cue, he appeared, towel in hand as he dried off his hair. He caught you with a sheepish expression on your face and a half-eaten macaron in your hand. You quickly placed it back on the plate as he loomed over you. If there was anyone serious about sweets, it would be him.

“I’m sorry I tried it without you, they were just—”

Zayne tossed the towel to the side and leaned in, stealing your apology from being spoken.

A familiar warmth blossomed between you as his lips captured yours. A week was far too long and he had spent much of his downtime thinking of this exact moment. His gentle hands cupped your face as he moved in closer still, raising his knee up to rest by your thigh.

“Zayne!” you voice was a squeaked muffle as your head met the back of the sofa, the soft backing cushioning the impact.

“Mhm,” he answered in a low tone, enjoying the way you said his name.

His tongue pressed between your lips—coaxing you to satiate his hunger. You parted your mouth, giving him permission to indulge. Zayne wasn’t someone you’d describe as spontaneous, yet times like these always caught you off guard. Though, it definitely wasn’t unwelcome. Admittedly, you had been craving this in his absence also.

He pulled away, admiring the flush on your cheeks as if you had been in the shower instead of him.

“Strawberry matcha,” he said, subtly licking his lips. He could taste remnants of a mild earthiness combined with fragrant berry. “Is my guess correct?”

You let out a breath of disbelief, realizing his move had another motive as well.

“It is, but you know you can pick up the macarons yourself to eat,” you replied with a pout, covering you mouth with the back of your hand.

“I’d prefer to have a different dessert first.” Zayne grasped your wrist and interlocked his fingers with yours. Moving your hand away, he saw your gaze flicking from his eyes and lips. “If that’s alright with you.”

You quickly nodded. He kissed you once more, smiling against your lips as you melted into his touch. Sorting out the luggage and eating the macarons could wait until a little later.

Someone had seen Wanderer on a date and, to everyone’s complete shock, being intimate. But, it was only from a distance, so they couldn’t figure out their identity. Thus, the speculations began. Wanderer wished everyone would just mind their own business.

As an Akademiya student yourself, you have also heard many of these stories during your time here. And as Wanderer’s partner, the ones about his romantic relationship was something you’d wish you heard less of. Unfortunately, you were now within hearing distance of an excited group of students talking about exactly that. They were seated at one of the public tables used for studying, though they were doing very little of it.

“Guess what?!” one of them exclaimed. “I saw Hat Guy the other day with his mystery partner.”

The rest of the group erupted into gasps. Is this some kind of Hat Guy fan club? you couldn’t help but wonder.

You stood innocently by the message board a ways from them, pretending to check and read if any new information had been added whilst your ears remained perked.

“No way! Did you find out who they were?”

“I had to rush off to class before I could sneak by them!” the witness of your date huffed. “I wouldn't have to do all this if he wasn't so secretive about this.”

Two days ago, you had indeed met up with Wanderer between classes, sitting by one of the more secluded gazebos in Razan Garden. You both weren’t actively trying to keep your relationship a secret, rather, you just enjoyed your privacy more.

One of them folded their arms rather decisively. “It has to be a celebrity. With how haughty he is, there’s no way that Hat Guy would settle for anyone who wasn’t some renowned star.”

Hey, that’s a bit rude! you protested internally. They don’t have to be a renowned star…

“That’s why he’s being so hush-hush about it, so it doesn’t become a huge scandal.”

“They must be jaw-droppingly gorgeous then. Only the best for the leading scholar of Vahumana,” agreed another, with loving sigh that made your eye twitch.

You pouted to yourself. Sure, you thought you were somewhat pretty, but not anything jaw-dropping… Hang on, why were you giving into these strangers’ silly speculations?

“Could they be a performer from Fontaine? I heard they have a grand Opera there.”

“They’re probably a vision wielder as well!”

“Yeah, definitely not some ordinary student like us.”

“Or maybe they’re a famous bard from Mondstadt—”

The group turned into a flurry of chatter as they continued with their guesswork. Your time here was up. You didn’t feel like listening any longer.

Some ordinary student… you repeated in your head. It wasn’t untrue, but the way it was said by them made it seem completely absurd for Wanderer to even consider dating someone like you.

Just as you turned to walk away, you jumped at a sudden noise.

An open door to an empty classroom had slammed shut. The sharp thud echoed throughout the space.

The chatter from the students immediately ceased.

They began to laugh uneasily. Surely that was just caused by a simple strong draft. The laughing faded when the books and loose parchment on their table were suddenly pushed to the side, the lighter of these items tumbling to the floor. They all stood up, horror frozen on their faces. The air grew noticeably cooler. Wind swept in, causing the papers pinned to the message board in front of you to flutter.

“I-it’s the ghost!” one of the students shrieked, pointing to one of the doorways that led into this central space. “The ghost of the Vahumana building!”

A figure loomed at the threshold, a sinister air surrounding them.

The group of students snatched their bags and rushed as fast as they could away, scrambling for the exit in the opposite direction. Their urgency greatly juxtaposed against your nonreaction.

There was just something about the figure that was all too familiar.

Stepping into the lit space, the figure ruffled a hand in his violet hair. Annoyance was twisted on his face.

“Using your anemo on Akademiya grounds?” you asked with a quirk in your brow.

Wanderer let out a huff, walking towards you. “For good reason. Not only were those students talking nonsense, they had the audacity to be loud about it too.”

Since there was no one around at the moment, you felt comfortable enough to bring up a hand to tidy his hair up. Though he gave a begrudged sigh, Wanderer leaned into your touch as you combed your fingers through it.

“I didn’t know you were the ghost of the Vahumana building,” you teased, moving an index finger down to poke at his cheek. “You seem pretty corporeal to me.”

“That ridiculous story again?” Wanderer responded, swatting at you to stop. “Humans seek out information that already confirms their previous beliefs. They saw whatever they wanted to see.”

Even though he shrugged as he spoke, Wanderer was unmistakably satisfied with the result of his doings. As he was heading to meet up with you to head home together, he heard that group of students yapping away about his relationship and saw your discomfort at their rudeness. He needed them gone and gone fast. So, he conjured up his most basic form of anemo. Even that was enough to send them scurrying away like mice.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You both were bathed in the warm sun as you walked through the streets of Sumeru City. It was a lively afternoon, with people bustling about to run errands or savor the perfect weather. Usually, you’d also relish in a day like this, but your attention was elsewhere. The conversation those students had repeated frustratingly in your mind, as much as you didn’t want it to affect you. Your focus returned just in time for you to move away as a woman carrying several boxes of Harra fruit almost sent you toppling over.

“Be careful there!” she called before moving on her way.

You shouted an apology, shaking your head in an attempt to return to your senses. Wanderer frowned, tugging at your arm to pull you closer to him.

"Are you going to spit it out?”

Though you hadn’t done anything wrong, you still felt like you’d been caught.

”Spit what out?” you answered.

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” he said, glowering at you. “You’ve been acting strange since we left the Akademiya.”

Turning the corner into the more residential area of the city, the streets grew less busy, save for the occasional resident tending to their garden outside or taking a walk with their family.

There was no keeping anything from Wanderer with his senses and hard-headedness. You probably had a better chance with hiding a Sumpter Beast under a blanket.

Wanderer cocked his head to the side. “And that was verbatim?”

“I was just thinking about what those students were talking about back at the Akademiya. You know, about who you were dating. They were saying: Oh, they must be some kind of celebrity, or famous adventurer with a really cool vision who’s super incredibly gorgeous and isn’t just some nothing student,” you mimicked with disdain.

“Yes, yes it was!” you nodded emphatically, ignoring his pointed sarcasm. “It just had me feeling I don’t know…”

Wanderer didn’t say anything more as your sentence trailed off. He simply looked at you, expectantly. The sound of your feet hitting the paved road rung clear in the air, every step pushing you to admit what you were truly feeling.

“I just felt a bit insecure!” you blurted out.

Sighing, the words began to tumble from you.

“Like if this is the kind of image people have about who’s dating you, once they see me they’ll start to think: Why on Teyvat is he dating that person? Which will make me think: Why on Teyvat are you dating me?”

“And I know, it’s horrible to think like this, and I don’t want doubt your reasons for liking me, but I just can't help it. So, now I’m starting to worry whether you'd prefer someone else—”

Your rambling stopped short.

Not because you had lost your train of thought, but because there was something physically preventing you from continuing.

Your lips was being covered by Wanderer’s own.

Your mind finally registered that he was kissing you in the middle of the street, only a few blocks away from your home.

Protests of stopping him fizzled away as you relaxed in his hold. His hand moved up to rest at the base of your neck and you gave in to the soft coolness of his lips. Wanderer’s kisses always had a hunger behind them, but there was something else now too.

Frustration.

Like he was trying to send you some kind of message each heated movement. When he finally pulled away, your body was left with tingles and you were still enveloped in his gentle scent of linen and parchment.

Wanderer silently admired the flush he left on your lips—the colour of ripened Zaytun peaches. He lightly tapped the side of your forehead with a finger, almost in scolding.

“You’re really that affected by the stupid things other people say?” he chided.

You blinked at him, still slightly dazed by his previous stunt.

He continued, with a sincerity to his voice that gave you pause, “Isn’t the proof you need right here? I chose you. So no, I wouldn’t want some famous superstar, or whatever, because they wouldn’t be you.”

Your mouth parted at such an open confession. Wanderer couldn’t handle the joy swimming in your eyes and turned away, hiding his own buzzing feeling that rose within him with a long sigh.

“I can’t believe you’re feeling like this when we’re walking to our shared home together,” he muttered, starting to walk again.

You kept up by his side, hands behind your back. You almost felt like skipping now down this street.

“Do you think you could say all that one more time?” you asked, the question filled with mirth.

“Nope.”

“Please?”

“Nope,” Wanderer, again, immediately replied.

“But what if I need more reassurance?”

You angled yourself to try and meet his gaze, hoping that the pleading in your expression would better convince him. However, he seemed to be notably avoiding your eyes. Unconsciously, Wanderer’s eyes flicked over to you. In that millisecond, his own resolve crumbled. He groaned aloud.

“Later… then…” he conceded with a mutter.

For all of Wanderer's supposed unwillingness, he would always give you the reassurance you needed in his own mischievous way. Still, he didn’t like how those rumors had so quickly burrowed into you. Perhaps it was time to stamp them all out by showcasing to everyone who he was dating.