#windbards

It had been foolish to suppose that the bard wouldn’t notice; more foolish yet to suppose that he wouldn’t ever say anything.  Lumine’s become protective, sharp; the edge of anxiety that swallows them whole, cannibalizing its host, makes them disjointed.  They’d put themself between Venti and a Pyro Agent’s blade.  There’s a hole in their torso.

It won’t kill her.  She knows that.  It probably hurts, but she can’t feel it.  She can feel Venti’s worry, panic, as the battle ends and Lumine allows themself to lean back against a stone and then slide to sit.  He tells her to stop, demands to know why she keeps doing this, and she bites out something that might pass as a laugh.

        “ your voice is beautiful. ” it stops him as he passes by and aether can’t help sparing the other a glance and a smile. it reminds him of another voice, one not quite as trained, that used to sing him lullabies when he couldn’t sleep a wink. but, of course, this bard is not his sister ... “ i suppose that’s fitting. hehe ... this city has always been full of music. ”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Voila ... a coy response from a coy girl ... nothing that the bard wouldn’t have expected himself. Yet, even as she punctuates it with a playful scoff, its overall delivery had been lacking in spunk and conviction. 

It’s half-assed teasing at best, and Keqing is known to never do things in halves.

She wrings her hands behind her back and keeps her gaze pointed on the ground. It’s all she could hope to do if she wishes to temper the deafening bray of her heart. “Tell me, Venti ... is love a sensation that is effortful? Or should it feel as automatic as breathing?”

The Yuheng’s weekly excursions prepared her for moments like these — moments that warranted her keen eye and quickening reflexes. Yet, at the last minute, her fight or flight response eludes her, for the hands that graze her ear are gentle and familiar. 

She cants her head to the side at the same time Venti exhales his happy proclamation. Violet eyes widen as they gaze at the Cecilia flower adorning his hat ... only to visibly soften as they catch sight of the same white petals tucked between strands of her hair. 

It’s an endearing gesture. That much is obvious. But it’s only when she shifts to envelop him into an embrace that she realizes, he is the very beacon of endearment — of a tenderness that this world hardly deserved, a kindness that she vowed to preserve until her lungs gave out.

“You bards are far too sappy for your own good,” she whispers. A rare giggle trills her lips as she rests her chin atop his shoulder. “Thank you. I’ll cherish this little gift for as long as I’m able to.”

Keqing peers into the mirror, humming curiously — excitedly — as she inspects her companion’s work. For someone who rarely got dolled up himself, he certainly had a lighter hand than she’d anticipated. 

Whether or not that has any bearing on his status as the anemo archon is something she would dismiss, at least to his benefit.

Gloss-tinted lips spread into a smile, first at her reflection and then at Venti, who’s quietly hovering over her. “Either you're a liar or a legitimate makeup prodigy.” Her gaze reunites with that of her mirror image’s. Maybe the contour hadn’t been blended thoroughly enough, and maybe the eyeshadow is somewhat creased at the corners, but overall ... she’s happy with the way she looks — happy with the colors he had chosen, happy with the way he had brandished them on her eyelids, happy with the fact that he had been willing to do her makeup to begin with.

“In all seriousness, you did a wonderful job. I never would’ve figured that yellow would look this nice on me.” A chuckle imbues Keqing’s breath as she rises from her seat — all lively and aglow with a gratitude she hadn’t felt in weeks. She then leans forth and presses a chaste kiss to the bard’s cheek. “Thank you, Venti.”

Cue the girlish, nevertheless uncharacteristic, giggle. “Oh, don’t be ridiculous. Did you really think that I would travel all the way to Mondstadt so we could sit and twiddle our thumbs all day?” 

Here, a smile that’s far too easy to adorn finds its way to Keqing’s lips as she nudges the bard seated beside her. “Come on! I already promised to spoil you during this year’s Moonchase Festival. The least you could do is take me somewhere exciting.”

“ are you taking requests, bard?— ” she produces a pouch of mora seemingly out of thin air, dangling it before him “ —i’m feeling rather nostalgic and a bit blue. would you play something to suit my mood? ”