“____! He’s here again!”
Varka reddens more so than after a night at the Cat’s Tail as the little girl who’s recognized him and made quick work of his dignity skirts past him quickly, running into the back of one of the most bustling shops in Mondstadt.
Despite it being close to closing time, there remain a few women perusing through your newest collection, a beautiful set of summertime blouses, sundresses, skirts and flowing pants in vibrate shades, and those few give him appraising looks before whispering to themselves. He’s acutely aware that his large frame leans a bit too comfortably on the front counter as he waits for you, but bashful hasn’t been a dominant aspect of his personality since birth and it won’t bud today. His eyes remain glued to the entryway leading up to the staircase that is your home above the shop; he has not yet crossed that threshold, but hope is held in his chest that he’d grow familiar enough for you to perhaps invite him up for some tea.
Tea. That’s all he wants, he assures himself.
There’s a torn pair of trousers - probably the fourth this month alone - in his hand, which legitimize his presence and he wads them less in his fist, just enough so that the tear is obvious to the judgmental women in the corner of the shop. Then he shifts, so that he is standing again, his arms crossed, wondering what has taken Aelyn so long to fetch you.
He doesn’t have all day.
He slumps again to the counter.
Actually, he does, if it’s a chance to get a glimpse of your face.
Soon, another female figure does make its way down, following Aelyn and the middle of the three girls that help run your shop, Thalira, and his hopes are up for just a moment, quickly dispelled once he catches a glimpse of decidedly Not-You’s not unfriendly but also not particularly enthused expression.
Varka waves first, trying not to appear disappointed, and her expression doesn’t change.
“Hey, haven’t seen you in a while!”
“Varka,” she replies, voice even and expression unreadable. His smile doesn’t waver regardless because your best friend is not the barrier to you she thinks she is.
And that’s that from her. She turns sharply, still facing the stairs, hand on her hip, and as though accompanied by a chorus of angels - it really is your laughter - you finally descend.
“Oh!”
Cheerful as always, but not naive to his tricks.
“Another task for me, I see?” you offer. Varka waves the pair of pants again, ignoring the grimace from your friend, who whispers something into your ear about a la prochaine and je passerais voir ta famille en Fontaine before two cheek kisses and making her way out.
The straggling women still perusing the shop look at each other, then at her as she exits, following her out and Varka assumes they must all be congregating to discuss how lame he looks.
But that's none of his business because it's not about you.
You’ve slipped behind the register, taking the charge out of his hand so deftly he wonders what else you can swindle out of him.
“Again, huh?”
You’re still smiling, and if you were a flower you’d be something terribly alluring. For a moment, he considers something beautiful, fragrant yet carnivorous, then immediately recants at that thought. You’d never harm even a fly.
“It just so happens I’m a rough and tumble guy, you know? What can I do?”
You actually laugh at the cringe of it all.
“Have you considered I might start charging you?” you ask, your eyes still examining the damage done.
“Have you considered I’d happily pay?”
You give him a look, and he returns one with a cheeky grin.
“You’d really make me pay?” he asks, softer, tentative.
“Cheapskate,” you joke, but you’ve turned on your heels, and he watches you for a moment as you a few steps towards the back of the shop, then toss a look back at him, beckoning him to follow.
The oldest of the girls has gathered the younger two, and waves back at you, the owner, that she’s on her way.
“We’re leaving!”
“Fynna, Thalira, Aelyn honey, be safe! Thank you for your hard work today!” you reply.
Varka gives them a look back, and there are enough minutes of daytime left for the girls to get home safe - he’s accompanied them many a walk home before.
They wave at him politely - Aelyn enthusiastically - promptly disappearing out of view. Varka’s gaze directs back to you, and you’ve settled behind a bench with a tabletop sewing machine in the corner. He watches shadows shroud half of your beautiful face in dimmer light, and the sun’s rays light another half of your profile brilliantly.
He can’t help his grin.
It’s always a good choice to come back here.
I’m going to chew your meat. Count your days.
