#yoimix.event

There is no way this could’ve worked out. Who suggested the two of you work together for the competition again? Ah, that bastard Alhaitham, backed by the little purple merchant. You shouldn’t have trusted the Scribe, the villain of every rumor circulating through Sumeru city, and let’s not start on Dori. Yet, you took up his offer and his word that he knows the best architect of the Ksharehwar Darshan.

You were suspicious, of course, but you didn’t expect to fall right into the arms of the most heinous existence known to civil engineers across all of Teyvat. You’d never have thought the Scribe of Sumeru Akademiya held Kaveh in such high regard, much less that they were roommates. After all, Kaveh’s just the most obnoxious presence you’ve dealt with during your time at the Akademiya. He’s talented, no doubt—just a nightmare to work with. And that’s what you told yourself when you signed both of your names up regardless. 

If only someone would let you start. He’s spewing nonsense for all you care.

“You architects and your poetic gibberish,” you huff. “It’s going to be a cottage at most!”

“It can’t be that hard,” he presses, leaning forward. “I already have the design in mind. Why don’t you let me do it?”

“How dare you- you sound so… condescending, you big oaf!” You seethe. “We’d have a better chance at winning if you let me take over instead.”

“You think a boring old cottage will win a competition all of Sumeru is partaking in?”

You press your lips together. That’s true. Easy won’t win. But what he’s suggesting is simply ridiculous.

“I know the festival comes from Mondstadt but this is Sumeru! We don’t have to do that cottage nonsense.” Kaveh matches your eye level, his own bright with anticipation. “I’ve known Sumeru architecture my whole life, I promise I won’t mess it up. For-for you.”

His tone is softer; perhaps he’s too tired to fight. He rubs the back of his head, standing awkwardly under your gaze.

“Fine,” you agree, crossing your arms. “But none of that interior decorating!”

Kaveh pouts. “But the little chairs and tables and fireplace! They’ll be so cute.”

You step closer, a glare so sharp even Kaveh flinches. “We have twelve hours to get this done, Kaveh. Let’s not waste time. I like my eight hours of sleep.”

The icy tone of your voice must have gotten to him. He flushes deeply, eyes unable to meet yours.

“Al-alright.”

Disaster starts with all-purpose flour. Or maybe disaster is in Kaveh’s bones and every stretch of his limbs rains down your misery.

“That’s too much!” You wave your hands around wildly. “Have you ever baked before?”

“Not really,” he answers.

You can only return a deadpan stare. “Huh. What made you want to join the competition then?”

“Money.”

You suck your teeth.

“That, and I like the idea of designing something made to be destroyed,” he hums, shuffling through the cupboard to bring out the rest of the utensils. “I’ve never done that before.”

You feel a smile tugging. “Well, you certainly are destroying our chances at this competition.”

“Hey!” 

Kaveh sprinkles a bit of flour towards you, catching you off guard. Jaw unhinging in disbelief, you take some more of the flour and throw it right at his face. He turns in time, but there’s flour inside his shirt and a not-so-friendly look on his face.

“Careful!”

“You started it!”

“Don’t be a child.”

“You’re the child, you asshole,” you huff.

Kaveh copies your huff, setting down the whisk and bowls. Dusting off the flour from his shirt, he curls his lips at you. Something about this man brings out your childish side and you find yourself sticking your tongue out at him in a mocking expression.

A soft laugh escapes his lips, catching you offguard. You’ve never seen him laugh like that in the Akademiya, but then again you barely ever talked back then.

“This is the first time I’ve seen you so worked up,” he notes, following your directions on whisking the batter. You shake your head, holding his wrist from moving too hard and adjusting his rhythm. He might as well be whisking everything out of the bowl.

You scoff, adding the cinnamon powder. “You haven’t seen me at the Akademiya? You think I got all those hell assignments done taking it easy?”

“I never said you take it easy,” he hums. “In fact, I love that you take things like this seriously—er, I- what I meant was- uh…”

You raise an eyebrow. “You are a peculiar man.”

Kaveh frowns. “Me? I’m the peculiar one? Have you met my roommate?”

“Unfortunately,” you mutter. “Of the two of you, though, I’m not sure who’s worse.”

Kaveh looks genuinely offended at your comment. He even stops whisking the batter, just to look at you with as much disapproval as he can muster.

You laugh at his open mouth and furrowed brows, clutching your stomach at the sensation. 

“I know it’s rich coming from me but…” You wipe away a tear, laughing. “Don’t take yourself so seriously. It’s funny but…”

Kaveh purses his lips. “Whatever you say, (name). I’m not the one microanalysing every grain of flour.”

“Ooh, big word, Mr Aesthete.” You place your hands on your hips. “I’m not the one who bursts into tears at mini figurines.”

You did see him holding back tears yesterday on your stroll through the city to get ingredients and ‘gather inspiration’ for Kaveh. It wasn’t something all that special, just a few dollhouses and special miniature sets at the antique shop. As much as you hate to admit it, his look was kind of… endearing. At least Kaveh didn’t end up spending whatever money he had on him to buy the sets.

He flushes a cherry red. “How- Huh? There’s no way you could’ve—I- I don’t do that every time.”

“You think you could hide your tears from me?” You roll your eyes. “You were ogling the display so much that Khalid nearly got his hopes up.” 

“They had a miniature dog by the fireplace!” He defends, turning so sharply his elbow hits the pot of heated corn syrup. 

This man is a disaster, you swear.

A pained yelp follows, the hot mixture sticking to his forearm as his skin turns bright red. You gasp, turning off the heat on the stove and grabbing his hand to lead him to the sink. Making sure the water’s cold, you bring his wrist under the flow, clicking your tongue at how painful his skin looks.

You look up to chide him, but his eyes are trained on yours in a gaze too soft to be scolded. You realize, though inappropriate, that his lashes frame his eyes perfectly. It’s mesmerizing to meet his gaze. He, of all people, shouldn’t be making you feel this way.

“You should be more careful.” You clear your throat. “I thought you were gentler than this.”

“I- I’m not sure what got into me.”

You know exactly what got into him. The two of you drive each other insane, that’s all. This is what disliking someone feels like, right? With the rise of blood to your cheeks and an increased pulse—is he looking at your lips? You turn back to the faucet, shutting it off. Your heart is screaming in your ears.

“You need some burn ointment first, and uh- I have some bandaids on me.” You look around.

“I’ll get the ointment,” he says quietly. He leaves the kitchen and you’re left alone with your thoughts

It’s an odd moment. Neither of you acknowledge it but there’s been a turn in the path of your hearts. Kaveh is likeable, you’ll give him that. Even though he gets on your nerves with his aesthetic bullshit, he strives to do what’s right. You can respect him, at the very least. But he’s still rather bullheaded.

You click your tongue again. Why are you analyzing him? You knead the mixture before preparing it for refrigeration. Kaveh is not what you should be thinking about. You’ve set your mind on a goal and it’s the gingerbread house contest for now. Distractions never kept you from achieving your goals in the Akademiya. But then again, you never saw Kaveh this close, his face a breath away from yours. Sliding to the floor, you inhale deeply.

You smack your cheeks with your hands. What is wrong with you? This is Kaveh. The one man in the Ksharehwar Darshan that would one-up you no matter what. You can’t possibly turn all friendly towards him just because he’s breathtakingly pretty.

“Are you… alright?”

You didn’t even hear him coming over the sound of your thoughts. Kaveh looks at you with concern, lips pursed. He reaches out a hand, and you take it almost reflexively before he pulls you up. 

“We have two hours to kill…” You trail off when you notice the lion bandaid on his arm. 

“That’s so cute!” you exclaim. “Ahem. I- I mean…”

Kaveh breaks into a smile. “You like cute things too. Why are you acting tough?”

“I’m not!” You sulk. 

“I like the keychain on your belt,” he comments, a pointed look thrown your way.

You place your hand over it protectively. It’s a basic black cat carved out of wood, a good luck charm for all your endeavors. 

“You always clutched it before any exam or presentation,” he continues, “I thought that was cute.”

Your eyes widen. “How do you remember that? It was so long ago.”

Kaveh opens his mouth and then closes it. A faint pink dusts his cheeks. “It just stuck out to me, I guess.”

You purse your lips. “I’m sorry I don’t remember much of you from the Akademiya days.”

Kaveh laughs. “Why are you sorry? I’m glad you don’t. I was kind of embarrassing when I started out.”

“Oh, I remember that.”

“I hate you.”

“Mhm, every engineer’s nightmare, Kaveh. You designed that Sumeru rose-shaped cottage, remember?”

“Archons, don’t start.”

“Then you argued with the sage on why it’s a practical yet comfortable design. And it still got rejected.”

“You only remember my failures, don’t you?” 

You giggle at the cringed out look on his face.

“And then you built the Pardis Dhyai.” You recall its architecture fondly. Only a great amount of care and passion could ever produce something like that, and Kaveh is the only man you know that possesses a seemingly unending amount of both. 

It’s not so difficult to spend two hours anymore, when you’re trying to recall memories of each other from you student days. He has more of you surprisingly and though teasing, you can’t help but feel a certain fondness in his voice.

The reminder creeps up again. This is not the time to think of Kaveh’s expressive eyes and fiery lips as he pokes another jab at you for being the most uptight Ksharehwar student. You and him aren’t like that. You’re barely friends and you have the audacity to want his touch.

“Alright, let’s see what genius design you came up with,” you exhale, taking the batter out of the refrigerator.

It’s like turning on a switch. Kaveh grows silent, scaling the the batter on the tray to his design print and neatly cutting out the pieces. This is the first time you’ve seen him work on anything; the skill with which his hands move make you unable to look away.

“So, I was thinking there should be an arboretum by the courtyard and—are you listening?”

“Uh? Y-yeah.” You can’t admit you were staring at his face like some lovesick fool.

“Alright.” He furrows his brows. “I’m not sure how to make the Christmas tree though.”

“We can use an ice-cream cone,” you suggest, “And put some green frosting over it.”

He clicks his fingers, amazed. “That’s so smart!”

You rub the the back of your head. “Not… not really but thanks.”

He smiles at you. 

“Shall we bake?” He extends a hand, as though asking for a dance an you laugh. He’s not so bad after all. You just held his hotheadedness against him for too long.

Finally placing the tray in the oven, you breathe a sigh of relief. You slide to the floor again, the cool marble somewhat comforting. Sumeru doesn’t get too cold, even in winters. Just drier than usual.

“You must really enjoy looking up at things,” Kaveh mutters, crouching down in front of you.

“I’m sorry you’ve never experienced the world like this.” You roll your eyes. “Were your ancestors Ajilenakh trees?” 

He laughs aloud, a pleasant sound reverbating through the kitchen.

“It got you to look at me,” he says softly.

“Hm?”

Kaveh looks back at you, pursing his lips. It seems like he’s fighting an internal debate, an argument that’s not with you or Alhaitham for once. 

“I’ve always…” He trails off, eyes looking elsewhere. “I know I wasn’t much of a spectacle back in the Akademiya but I would do anything to get you to look at me.”

“Huh…? Kaveh—”

“And- and it led to some stupid actions but I just… I wanted to you to look at me. I’m so… I’m sorry if I ever gave you a hard time.” He looks remorseful. “I know I could’ve handled the group projects better, or the presentations—I never meant to be competitive.”

“Are you saying that—”

“I like you.” He meets your gaze. “And I should’ve handled it better.”

You sit up sharply at the sudden confession, your back hitting the table a bit too hard. Before you can exclaim in pain, the sense of impending danger makese you stiffen.

“Careful!” Kaveh exclaims, moving reflexively to catch the bowl of extra batter before it can barrel down on you, his arms stretching above your head. His face looks down at yours at a proximity you should be uncomfortable with, but instead, a rapid firing of blood to your ears makes you stiffen up. Don’t look at his lips, don’t look at his lips, don’t—

Rosy and soft, they’re quite alluring if you stare long enough. You look down, closing your eyes shut. 

At the very same moment, the door to the kitchen creaks open and Ahaitham stops in his tracks before he can take a step inside. A look of mild disgust shapes his expression.

He blinks slowly twice, before sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Not in the kitchen.”

“It’s not like that!” The two of you snap, nearly yelling. The audacity of this man to even suggest such a thing.

Alhaitham raises an eyebrow. “And yet both of you know exactly what I was talking about. It must be on your mind.”

The same rush of blood you feel on your face is mirrored against Kaveh’s apple-tainted cheeks. 

“Just… don’t dirty the kitchen,” Alhaitham saunters off with a warning tone. “It’s supposed to be a sanitized area.”

The two of you take a moment to recover.

“Why, that…”

“I’m going to kill him,” you grumble.

But Alhaitham seems to be the only one who put two and two together. Was bringing you to Kaveh also a scheme? You’ll never know with the Scribe.

“We can make mini furniture with the extra batter,” you blurt. It’s been on your mind. You just didn’t want to openly admit it.

“O-oh,” Kaveh responds, before realization flushes into his face. “Of all the responses, that’s not the one—you know what, I’m glad.”

He seems a little down; getting his confession ignored wasn't part of the plan for sure. However, it makes you want to tease him more.

“Are you free this Christmas?” You ask, leaning forward. He flinches but doesn’t pull away.

“I- uh- yes, I am.” 

“Do you wanna go look at the lights together?” You smile, eyes knowing.

“Yes!” He responds quickly. “I do. With you. I mean, of course. That’s- uh… a given.”

“Alright then,” you pull back, a teasing smile on your face. “If we win the competition, we can go on a celebratory date.”

“Date?” He squeaks before clearing his throat, turning redder by the second. “That’s not even- I never suggested- what I- uh- um, I- that’s not—”

You lean forward and press a light kiss to his lips, effectively stopping his babbling. Mouth hanging agape, he can’t seem to move a muscle.

You press a finger to your lips, trying to keep yourself from smiling. “We have to win, alright? Or I won’t be able to justify that.”

Kaveh looks like he might just combust, breathing heavy before he covers his face in the crook of his arm. 

“Of course we will!”

(Results just in: You did win. It’s just that your gingerbread house broke apart within fifteen seconds of a particularly strong gust of wind, and you had to keep Kaveh from sobbing hysterically. The sweet taste of the ruined house did surprisingly well as consolation, as did your date.)

This year, Fate decided to stitch you a get-along sweater from previous years’ antics because you’re stuck helping him. You couldn’t refuse when Nilou personally called you up to make sure the background for the Instagram posts aren’t downright grotesque (of course, she put it rather nicely but that’s what she meant). You’d take any excuse to see his handsome face and sketch a frown onto it.

“Why the fuck did you buy the yellow ones? They’re hideous!” You hold up the bells, colored a neon yellow with sparkly bits and pieces, and certainly not easy on the eyes. It’s borderline vomit-colored. You never know how he manages to pick the worst thing that has ever befallen your eyes every time.

“They were Buy 6 Get 6 free.” Alhaitham shrugs. How you wish you could knock the nonchalant look off his face. 

“You don’t go by deals when you’re decorating!” You groan, exasperated. “Now we have twelve of these ugly motherfuckers.”

“They were also the first I saw in that aisle,” he answers, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t understand why you want to spend hours and hours walking around the department store when we can get the job done in five minutes.”

“Well, you’re doing a very sloppy job, bonehead.”

“At least we could get to the decorating part thanks to my intervention.” He crosses his arms. “Otherwise, we’d still be at the mall.”

“God, you are such a—ugh! Fine, let’s get on with it.”

Alhaitham hums in agreement—of course, he never bothers to spare more words than necessary. That’s an invitation to you, though, to provoke him till you have his full attention. Call it childish but you enjoy the cracks in his solid stances.

Besides, it’s not like he cares.

What you have is not a crush anymore—it’s festered into something more vile, more self-serving, and more fun. It’s not like it was back in college, when you could quarrel to your hearts’ content over assignments and exam scores. You have adult jobs now and seeing each other is much more irregular. You never expected silence to be so full of disquiet. 

However, the Christmas reunion every year gets blood rushing to your arteries faster than you let on. There is no greater spectacle for your friends than you and Alhaitham trying to one-up each other over every little festive detail. Last year, it was a squabble over the Christmas music selection, and the year before it was about the photos not turning out quite so well (Refer: Alhaitham’s lack of aesthetic sense), and once it was even about who’s the better driver just because you decided to drive to midnight mass. Let’s not even get started on preparing Christmas dinner. At the very least, though, your friends get to enjoy extravagant gifts from your unspoken gift-giving competition. It’s not like you’ll let a man flash his dollars in your face when you earn just as much, if not more. 

This year, obviously, you need to coach him on style.

“Don’t hang that on the tree—oh Jesus, I must personally apologize to you for whatever this heathen is doing to the tree. I promise I had no part in it—”

“Will you quit babbling and try to get shit done?”

You scoff. “I’d rather swallow concrete than let you put that up. I’m trying to save all of our eyes.”

“I highly doubt you have the capability.”

Alhaitham may not be that interested in this but like hell he’d let you do better. That’s the sort of man he is.

“You narcissistic ass…” You mutter, standing on your tiptoes to hang the rest of the little gift boxes.

“My, aren’t you sweeping self-awareness under the rug today?”

“Go fuck yourself, Alhaitham.”

You can feel the smirk on his face even if you don’t look up at him. 

To be very honest, you’re quite comfortable with how it is. Any step further, and you’ll be falling and scraping your knees; any larger distance and you’ll be bored out of your mind.

“Not that.”

You pull Alhaitham back by his sweater, somehow uglier than yours when you’ve been winning ugly sweater competitions since age eight. Seriously, whatever Eldritch horror rendition of a llama is on his sweater freaks you out. Apparently his niece stitched it herself so you’ll cut him some slack. It’s rather sweet of him, even.

“If not these, then what?” Alhaitham sighs, holding back the little neon murderers of the Christmas spirit. “Do you want to leave half the tree plain?”

“Obviously not, idiot. I’ll fashion some dice into ornaments. Ooh, maybe I can wrap some fruits in aluminum foil and hang them. I’ll paint.”

“What a nuisance,” he mutters, eyelids lowered. You swear it’s your lips he’s staring at but that can’t be possible.

It must be a trick of the light. You look away, shifting your focus to the leftover fairy lights. 

“And- and I have ribbons,” you continue, pretending you never noticed. “There’s also some Kalpalata lotuses we could stick in the branches. That’d be pretty, right?”

“Mhm, yes. Very unique.”

Your eyebrows travel halfway to your hairline. Alhaitham furrows his brows at your stunned silence, unsure of what caused the reaction.

“That’s the first time you’ve complimented me.”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t get used to it.”

Alhaitham’s serious response to your rivalry used to be your best validation. It’s not like you mind the occasional nice words though.

“Ooh, that makes me crave it more,” you tease, elbowing him as he purposely avoids your gaze.

“You get older but never wiser, do you?” He grumbles. 

“Then, O Great Sage, what is your wisdom tonight?”

Alhaitham turns to you sharply, leaning in just enough to make your breath hitch in your throat. You can’t even take a step back for fear of the tree toppling. It seems he’s effectively grounded you. The lack of distance, however, does not fall inside your comfort zone. Is it terrible that you can’t stop staring? Everything about him is so annoyingly attractive, from the high cheekbones to the perfectly carved lips. 

“I know you enjoy pushing my buttons,” he speaks by your ear, voice low. “And efficiency is not a key you’ve ever held. But let’s try, hm?”

You’re only cheeky out of habit. “Do you like watching me squirm? Pervert.”

Alhaitham breathes out, clearly accepting his defeat. “It’s five already. Everyone arrives in two hours.”

You shrug. “We’re pretty much done, aren’t we? Unless you want me put in an ice rink and a cocktail bar too, your highness.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. You’re starting to miss the biting retorts. “Did you check the lights like I asked you to?”

“Oh shit.”

The Christmas lights are at least eight feet long and you have no idea why he has these. This man does not look like he feels any emotion from fairy lights. They’re braided every five light bulbs, and much to your and Alhaitham’s chagrin, they flicker and die midway. They are pretty though, emanatinga. warm golden glow. Very  

“God, I could be out partying right now,” you groan. “Why did I sign up for this?”

“That sounds like a plan. Please do me a favor and go partying.” Alhaitham takes the plug out of the socket, sighing. You press your lips into a thin line and snatch the plug, testing out the wiring. It’s just a little puzzle to solve. You’ve dealt with enough home electricals in your life. You can’t say the same for Mr Paper-for-brains.

“Despite your looks, you’re somehow the nerdiest loser I’ve ever met.” You huff, taking out each bulb and placing bits of aluminum foil to ensure the connections.

“What, because I don’t spend my Friday evenings inebriated?”

“Alcohol could do you some good, actually.”

He meets your retort with a sigh and you take it as a victory. You’re not some child throwing a tantrum that willful ignorance of your actions will get you to feel remorse. 

“It’s already sunset.” Alhaitham clicks his tongue. “The clock’s ticking and you still haven’t rid your habit of messing around with every little thing you see.”

“I’m not messing around! I just wanna solve it like a puzzle.”

“We could just buy new ones,” he states, a deadpan stare directed at you.

“...Or we could do that.” You turn away, breaking eye contact. “But seriously, don’t you find joy in solving some problems the hard way? Like, you wouldn’t set fire to a puzzle as an attempt to solve it.”

Alhaitham pauses, lips parted slightly but he can’t come up with a retort. He’s probably just amazed at your exceptionally stupid example. Even if that was your attempt to salvage your ego, you’re not entirely lying. You wouldn’t be here right now if you didn’t have the tendency to take longer, more troublesome, and more scenic routes. Your original sin is never letting go.

“Cat got your tongue?” You offer him a sarcastic smile. “I know it’s not the same—”

“The way you think is quite fascinating,” he says quietly. “I don’t understand—I’m drawn to it.”

You swallow your own words. Out of all the possible sentences that could’ve come out of his mouth, that wasn’t the one you were expecting.

“You’re creative,” he hums, tapping his fingers against the couch headrest idly. “And you’re strange.”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you.”

For the first time this evening, Alhaitham laughs. It’s dry, but it’s a deep sound nonetheless. You can’t take your eyes off him.

“Somehow, I can never understand you,” he responds, leaning back against the wall. “Maybe I never will. You piss me off.”

You let go of the lights and move to sit on the couch arm, looking up at him with a wondrous smile.

“And yet, you always stare at my lips. Are you so eager for the profanities that leave them?”

“I do not.”

A subtle snarl twists his lips. 

“Oh? You wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid.”

“Do I now?”

His voice is raised, and he’s no longer leaning against the wall. This is getting exciting. You’d do anything to keep his eyes on you.

“Yes, and you can’t stand it,” you state your theory, even if you don’t believe in it. There are limits to the lengths you’ll go, but you haven’t reached there yet.

Alhaitham knits his brows, clearly soured with the exchange by now with his tense shoulders and deep frown. You quite like that look on him. Especially when he looks at you like that at this proximity. It’s an honor to rile up the Alhaitham, infamous throughout your academic life. You’re not so bad yourself.

You blow a raspberry at him. “Do it, coward. Kiss me.” 

“You know what? Fucking gladly.”

Before you can process it, a soft pair of lips push against yours, while his hands hold you by the waist to keep you in place. You give in for a flash of a second, before you pull away with a gasp. That was not good for your heart. However, you’re not the only one in dire conditions. 

Alhaitham is a sight to behold. His face is the color of ripe Henna berries—you’re not sure if it’s from the kiss or the fact that he’s still pissed off at you. You reach out to press your palm against his cheek, the gesture softening his gaze ever so slightly.

This time, you tug him in, the kiss hesitant at first before the two of you ease into it. When your noses bump, you hold back a giggle and you can feel him smile against your lips. Oh, you’ve never seen all these hues and shades before. You pull away, and he nearly chases your lips before his ego yanks him back by the collar.

“You liked that, didn’t you?” You smirk.

“Not a chance.”

“Then look me in the eyes.”

Alhaitham meets your gaze with no protest whatsoever, pressing his tongue against the inside of his cheek. Even in defeat, he manages to look like the arrogant bastard he is.

“Lying doesn’t suit you, sweetheart,” you tut.

Alhaitham raises an eyebrow.

“Tell me again, what you said to me at graduation.”

“What did I say?” You feign ignorance. At the time, it seemed like an appropriate response to him holding up his 4.0 over your 3.95. The goal was never just summa cum laude.

“That you hate me,” he answers, pulling you closer and closer till his mouth hovers above yours. “Tell me you hate me and call me a liar once more. I dare you.”

“I hate you,” you breathe against his lips, “I hate you so much.”

“Liar.” The smile against your lips is sweeter than holiday season. In fact, it might even be comparable to your rich chocolate cookies in ecstasy. 

You pull away with a teasing smile. “Have you been thinking I hate you for all these years?”

Alhaitham rolls his eyes to the side, completely ignoring your remark.

“You like me, don’t you?” Your smile grows wider, a sudden rush of schoolgirl infatuation filling you. 

“How in the ever loving fuck did you come to that conclusion?”

The sarcasm drips like honey off his voice. As if you couldn’t fall any further.

“Maybe you should kiss me again, so I can gather more evidence for a stronger conclusion. I wouldn’t go wrong with my hypothesis.” You lean in, grinning as brightly as the stars in the sky.

He hums, fighting back a smile. “Well, I do support the scientific method.” 

“Okay, so whatever feud you’re having, I’m on (name)’s side—oh.”

Kaveh freezes at the doorway. Surely, the one image he never would’ve conjured up in his head was that of you sitting on the floor between Alhaitham’s legs, his arms wrapped around your waist as you sort through your Christmas cards. And the two of you are laughing. Is that not cause for concern? 

“You know, when people are built like a coconut tree, they shouldn’t be standing in front of doors—oh.”

Cyno is your next victim, and his jaw drops less conspicuously than Kaveh’s does but it surprises him nonetheless. He swears on his gold star espeon card that he’d sooner expect Alhaitham to drop dead than admit his crush on you. No, even if he got over his emotional constipation, Cyno didn’t think you’d be at peace without pressing something to his throat. It truly is a Christmas miracle.

“Boys, can we not clog the doorway?” Dehya groans. “I get that this is the first time you knuckleheads have ever sensed emotion, but we saw this coming a mile away.”

“Oh, don’t be mean, Dehya,” Dunyarzad pokes Dehya’s side, causing the latter to giggle and wrap her arm around Dunyarzad’s waist. “Besides, you went into shock too when I suggested they might have a thing for each other.”

Dehya opens her mouth and closes it again. “You got me there.”

“Alright now, everyone,” Nilou stands on her tiptoes to peek over Kaveh and Dehya’s shoulders. “I set them up and I can’t see the fruit of my efforts.”

“You did what?!” You yell, getting pulled down by Alhaitham when you try to get up. Shooting him a glare, you get comfortable anyway.

“Oh, now you hear me.” 

You try your best to not look offended. Alhaitham tilts his head to the side, an eyebrow raised in curiosity towards the information Nilou just dropped. There’s no schemes without him.

“You just needed an excuse and I knew—”

“Nilou, please stop talking, I’ll buy you more shiba inu figurines.”

“No bribe can—”

“Broadway tickets.”

Nilou makes a gesture of zipping her lips. “My lips are sealed, your highness.”

Alhaitham sighs, resting his chin on your shoulder. “You do know that I’m aware of your advances? You’re not very subtle.”

Your jaw drops, offended. “I thought I was being sexy and flirty and mysterious.”

“You were literally none of those. All you did was drive me up a wall.”

“But did that work?”

“Yes.”

Kaveh makes a gagging sound. “If you guys start making out during Nightmare before Christmas, I will vomit all over you.”

“Did you pay rent or are you going to dirty someone else’s living room?” Alhaitham asks.

Kaveh looks away, whistling a note. It elicits a wave of laughter, and like dominoes, Christmas eve is set into motion. The presents line the base of the tree, the lights have been dimmed till only the fairy lights shine, and Alhaitham has started the hallmark movie after much grumbling. 

Maybe the Christmas spirit has some meaning after all; and you could debate this with your boyfriend, but it is the most wonderful time of the year to celebrate anniversaries.

The problem is that he’s the nicest man in Teyvat, and nothing you do can make him shake. It started out as a bet you made with Ayaka, but then it progressed into more of a personal challenge. However, Thoma might as well be a log of wood with the lack of emotion he greets your shenanigans with. 

So, instead of getting mad at you, he’s patiently teaching you how to knit.

“Oh dear.”

Thoma stops your hands with his again, blissfully unaware of the effect it has on you. No matter how many times you tell yourself that he’s nice to everyone, every action of his seems to have a detrimental effect on you.

“It’s like this…”

Like you give a shit about how to knit. You just want to be close enough to feel his warmth all the time. Somewhere along the way, you blurred the line between friends and something more with your stupid tactics. Now, it’s on you to figure it out. 

But it’s Thoma.

This man is so horribly perfect that even the ‘ugly’ Christmas sweaters he knitted turned out pretty. Carefully woven with a heart against a baby blue background, it’s lined with pine trees at the base and a star at the center. He even made sure of the color variations, with a red heart for him, a yellow one for you and an orange one for Taroumaru. 

“You’re not listening,” he tuts, a small smile on his face. 

You roll your eyes. “It’s hard. Not everyone is as gifted as you.”

“That’s alright,” he laughs. “You should take a break anyway. Things done tired lead to injuries and I wouldn’t want scars on your hands.”

There he goes again, caring for you more than he does for himself. The chatter of the party continues in the next room but you can only rest your eyes on Thoma, so focused on getting the sweaters right. The litter of kittens sleep peacefully in the box at the corner of the room, a watchful Taroumaru lying beside them. Peace brims in the atmosphere; you nearly forget it’s a winter night with the warmth radiating inside this room.

And yet, the lack of intimacy between you and Thoma is driving you insane. It’s so hard to remain calm with him in proximity. Either he stops being nice to everyone, or he kisses you till you can’t recall your name. You’re so touch-starved, you have to battle your brain chemistry every night.

“You know…” You smile slyly as another plan hatches in your mind. 

“Hm?”

“Ayato said he’s hosting some event soon. Isn’t he so cool to be able to find time amidst all that work? A man of the house, eh?”

Maybe talking about other men will get the fabled rise out of him. Yae novels can never go wrong. But then again, your friends are horrified by your reading taste.

Thoma laughs. “Of course he is! It takes a lot of determination to do what he does.”

“W-well… I was uh- talking to Detective Heizou! The… other day…and… do you think we could be more than friends?”

Thoma blinks, confused. Hah! Maybe you’ll finally get to see that green shade of jealousy.

“Well, you could start with a date if you’re into him.”

Of course, that shade of green is very different from the one coloring his eyes.

“No!” You blurt. “I mean, not really. I heard he’s flirty with everyone anyway…”

“Oh, that he is,” Thoma sighs before grinning at you. “I didn’t want to discourage you, that’s all.”

“Well, he’s on my mind now,” you mutter begrudgingly. “I didn’t need that image of him.”

“You’re on my mind for longer than that,” he mumbles, followed by a soft chuckle. “And you’re fine.”

Thoma keeps complicating things like this and there’s nothing more you want than to kiss him silly.

Another brilliant thought strikes. 

“Aha!” You snap your fingers, startling Thoma. 

“Uh, (name)?”

“We’re missing alcohol!” You complain, placing your hands on your hips. “What kind of a Christmas party is this?”

Thoma pauses before breaking into laughter.

“You sound more and more like a Mondstadter every day.”

You pout. “Well, you talk about it so often…”

“Don’t get me wrong,” he smiles, finishing up the last of the batch of sweaters. “I love Mondstadt but my heart lies here.”

With me? You can’t possibly say something that embarrassing out loud.

“With you…” You perk up. “...guys.”

Of fucking course.

You hold back a groan. This isn’t meant to be so frustrating. You could be saying it aloud, you could be holding him closer, you could be anything but miserable and lovesick. If you could, you’d blow on those Mondstadt dandelions and wish for Thoma’s smile against the sun. What if you love him and he loves you not?

There’s a reason you only buy cheap things—you’ll lose them or break them. As much as Thoma helps you haggle the prices in Ritou, he couldn’t possibly help you with this. You can’t keep anything, much less someone as perfect as Thoma. It’s not just the idea of rejection holding you back, it’s your own heart. 

“You’re not good with alcohol either,” you chuckle.

“Hey, don’t laugh.” Thoma pouts. “I’m sure I could down it better with some food.”

“Mhm.” You roll your eyes. You should give up now. There is no possible way in Teyvat you can make Thoma yours. Might as well make peace with it.

“Oh, fruitcake!” He declares.

“Fruitcake?” You blink.

“Yes, dear?”

You feel a rush of blood to your face. “H-huh? That- that was so stupid, Thoma!”

Thoma laughs uncontrollably, squishing your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger fondly. “Gosh, I was only kidding but you look so cute.”

“I change my mind. You’re the most horrible man in Teyvat.”

“Even though I baked fruitcake for you?” He offers a small grin. “With no fruit pieces because I know you hate fruit pieces.”

“So, it’s just a cake.”

“Well, yes… but it’s your favorite flavor!”

You shake your head, a smile fighting its way onto your face anyway. 

“Oh, and I have some dog cookies for Taroumaru,” he continues, “And milk for the cats because I don’t think they can have solid food yet.”

“And for you?”

Thoma pauses, clearly confused. “Right… Well, I don’t need much more than this for Christmas. I have a roof over my head, my friends around me, and… kittens! What more could a man ask for?”

You frown. It’s not worth getting upset over but his attitude is infuriating.

“You always look more tired than happy at these parties, Thoma,” you say. “You don’t always have to overwork yourself for everyone.”

“It’s alright,” he laughs awkwardly. “You’re having fun, right? That’s good enough.”

It seems that even if you never get on his nerves, he gets on yours. How many times has he let himself suffer just to keep you in check? He will risk his life for his friends and family—excessive loyalty is not a virtue. Even when he washed ashore with no mora or a name to him, he offered the strays his food every day. It’s irrational; and it could’ve killed him. Just thinking about it makes you unbearably angry. He’s lucky you found him. 

Then why is it that you still feel luckier of the two?

“I hate it when you do that, Thoma.”

This is why you can’t have nice things. Because you break them. 

Thoma looks genuinely remorseful, and you immediately regret saying it.

“I-…I’m sorry, (name),” he whispers. “I would never do anything to upset you.”

God, you wish you weren’t such a problem child. You wish he was meaner. You wish you’d stop falling for him every day.

“It’s like you care for me more than I do,” you mutter, upset. “I don’t know how to act.”

Thoma blinks. “I- That’s not what I…”

Placing his hand over the upper half of his face, he sighs. “It’s only half-true. You bring out the best in me, (name).”

You scoff. “You’re already the best I could ever find in a man, Thoma.”

Quick flames erupt from his ears at your comment, startling both him and you. You blink at him, his cheeks and ears as scarlet as fire, before bursting into laughter.

“You’re the same as ever,” you manage to say in between laughs. “You once set the bouquet on fire before you could give it to your crush.”

“That was way back when!” He furrows his brows. “It was a schoolboy crush and it lasted three weeks.”

“Don’t get defensive on me,” you tease. “You’re just such a clown when you’re in love.”

“Does that mean you’ll keep smiling at me?”

“Huh.” You blink. “Well, if that’s your party trick, sure.”

“(Name), I’m not sure you understand,” he breathes. “I’m erupting like this because you’re here.”

“Then would you spew fire if I kiss you?” You lean towards him, a playful lilt in your voice.

“Stop teasing me, (name),” he murmurs, leaning further into you, arms on either side. It’s hard to be mean to his puppy dog eyes and plush pout. 

Before you can think it through, you close the gap between your lips, a soft sound of surprise leaving Thoma. But your senses return before he can kiss you back, his lips chasing yours when you pull away.

“Oh!” You gasp, eyes wide as your hands fly to your mouth. “I can’t believe I just did that, oh my god. What have you done?”

“M-me?” He fumbles, cherry red. “You kissed me. Why are you shocked?”

“I didn’t think I’d actually do it!” You exclaim. “That was too impulsive for me to act normal.”

“I like it when you’re impulsive.” His fern green eyes seem to melt at your gaze, an almost pleading look laced with quiet mischief.

You bite back a smile, and he leans in to press his lips against yours. Why haven’t you done this before? You giggle into the kiss, his arms wrapping around you tighter. Christmas has never tasted sweeter.

Suddenly—

“Woof!”

You separate yourself from each other, jumping at the sound. Looking down, you found a rather angry Taroumaru glaring at you from beside the stack of kitten sweaters.

Thoma is the first to laugh. “Sorry there, buddy. I didn’t mean to make things awkward for you.”

“Awoof!”

“Oh, yeah! I’m done with the sweaters.” Thoma nods. “We’ll try them on tomorrow morning.”

You furrow your brows. “Are you… communicating?”

“No, I’m just assuming what he means.”

“Arrrrooof!”

“Okay, I have no idea what that means.”

Taroumaru leaps onto your lap, snuggling his face onto your collarbone.

Thoma knits his brows, almost offended. You don’t get to see that expression often, and you wouldn’t have expected Taroumaru to prompt it. “Oh, so you’re here to steal my (name), is it?”

“I wouldn’t mind Taroumaru stealing me,” you declare. “Isn’t that right?”

You floof up Taroumaru’s face, scratching the  back of his ears as he gives you a joyous yip.

Thoma rolls his eyes, a smile begging to take over his lips. “You’re taking it too far, (name).”

“Really now?” 

You feel warm lips press against yours again, eliciting a soft laugh from you. However, it’s cut short by Taroumaru’s angry headbutt against Thoma’s chin, a grunt of pain following as he’s pushed back. However, it’s soon replaced with laughter, the sound resonating across the room. Only Thoma could laugh so full, even on an empty stomach.

“Alright, you win.” He raises his arms in defeat. 

“We should take a family picture,” you suggest, looking around for the kamera.

“But we’re not married?” Thoma tilts his head to the side.

You smack his arm. “We don’t have to be married for one!”

“Ah, pre-marital photographs. Scandalous.”

And so, stands the pre-marital photograph of you, Thoma and Taroumaru in matching sweaters, by your dresser—you’re clutching your stomach as you laugh while Thoma’s turned red (in true Christmas spirit) trying to hold in his laughter. Taroumaru is the only one photogenic enough to make it work, his head tilted to the side and eyes closed in joy. You should’ve known then, that only the sweetest of fruitcakes could top that photograph (and Thoma’s came pretty damn close).

The moonlight falls in waves over Kaeya’s hair as he walks with you downtown. A look of mild distaste colors his expression, soft lips pressed together as he looks forward. The tapping of his heels against the cobblestones isn't the only sound, however. The whole of Mondstadt is abuzz, walking through the winter-hued streets with loved ones arm-in-arm. A tree stands tall at the city center, shimmering with lights and ornaments handpicked by the people. The houses are lit bright way past the usual bedtime, and you can’t help but feel a sting of wanting.

Warmth is elusive and you crave it more and more each passing winter night.

Kaeya’s sigh pulls you out of your thoughts. With fingertips as cold as ice, he has a surprisingly warm tone of voice.

“First of all, there’s no wine. Can you believe it? A Mondstadt party without wine?”

A spark of annoyance flickers in Kaeya’s eyes.

“Well, last year you got so drunk you cuddled a barrel of wine at Diluc’s winery. And then Diluc made me stay the night to take care of you.”

Kaeya pointedly ignores your remark. It’s not so often he lets all loose like that—in fact, most of Mondstadt couldn’t possibly answer if they’ve ever seen the cavalry captain quite so intoxicated. In a strange, twisted way, it makes you feel special.

“Two, it’s in the Favonius Headquarters—the very same workplace I spend every day at, see and converse with the same coworkers at. Is that even a party? I’m being asked work questions, (name). Isn’t that too cruel?”

You purse your lips at his rant. “That’s fair.”

“Thirdly, if one more person asks me about the horses, I will stab my own guts out.”

You giggle. “Well, are the hors—”

Kaeya presses the tip of his index finger against your lips, shaking his head. A dead serious look takes over his eyes. 

“No.”

You hold back a laugh. It’s not easy for ordinary folks to notice but—fatigue settles often in the eyes of the cavalry captain. Luckily, he looks much fresher tonight.

Handsome, even.

You mentally slap yourself. That’s not allowed, you’ve told yourself repeatedly. You can’t look at your friend, your first friend in Mondstadt, that way. You sigh, and Kaeya moves his finger away as though you blew it away. Chuckling, he steps forward and holds the door to Cat’s Tail open for you.

“Shall we?”

You sigh, entering the tavern. You’ve got a long night ahead of you. 

Kaeya makes it faster though, by skipping straight to tequila. You nearly gag at the scent of how strong it is, offering him a dubious look as he downs the shot with a group of strangers he seems to be well connected with. The interior of Cat’s Tail is just as toasty as you expected—but it looks like Kaeya’s determined to raise the heat to the maximum.

“It’s not like you to have alcohol straight,” you say, concerned. “Are you alright?”

“Of course I’m alright, (name),” he laughs before turning to you. “Unless you plan to nag me for the rest of the night. Then neither of us will be having fun.”

“But you hate it when it’s bitter,” you mumble, watching him down another shot.

Kaeya places the shot glass on the counter, grimacing. The bartender offers you a look of pity and you return a pursed smile.

“You’re right, that was horrible,” he groans. “I just… I can’t stand the cold.”

You giggle. “Despite your vision?”

“Sometimes because of it,” he chuckles, resting his cheek against his palm. The alcohol has already flushed his skin red and he plays idly with a coin of mora.

The music is festive inside the tavern, and maybe that’s what keeps your hopes up. The cats snore in some corner, largely ignoring the crowd of people celebrating the holidays with friends and family. Kaeya alternates between chatting up the crowd, the flush on his cheek spread to his ears, and telling you details he’s picked up from them. If you’re being honest, he’s unbearably cute when he talks about others with fascination. People watching has always been a favorite activity for the two of you.

“Ugh, my tongue tastes bitter,” he groans, sticking it out as though trying to prove his statement. “What a pity Diona couldn’t join us.”

“Let the girl enjoy Christmas Eve with her father.” You click your tongue. “Besides, it’s only your fault for choosing shots.”

“How else am I supposed to enjoy a night so joyous?”

You wave at the bartender, ordering a sweeter cocktail for Kaeya before he drinks anything else insane. With the unsolicited lessons on wine he’s given you, it’d be shameful to not remember something from the list.

“My, aren’t you sent from the Anemo Archon himself?” Kaeya remarks, a smile playing on his lips. “I’m blessed.”

The cocktail is placed on the counter with a soft clink.

“Get your drink and stop hogging the counter, Captain,” the bartender chides, sending you an almost pleading look. Apparently, you’re Kaeya’s assigned babysitter.

“Boy, I thought you were Diluc for a moment,” Kaeya chokes. “But I would’ve sensed the brooding from a mile away.”

The bartender responds with a hearty laugh. “You’re funny, Captain. But I gotta do my job.”

Kaeya places a hand over his heart in mock hurt. “Come now, have I not increased revenue? Isn’t Margaret proud of me?”

“Madam Margaret has specifically told you to pay your tab.”

“Oh.”

You hold back a laugh, grabbing the drink in one hand and Kaeya’s arm in the other before you thank the bartender and leave to occupy a more cozy corner of the tavern. Sitting Kaeya down on a cushy chair, you hand him his drink like handing candy to a child. His eye sparkles, and you admire how pretty it is even under the miserly lights of the tavern. You take a seat beside him, watching as the crowds celebrate, the thought of warmth bringing a smile to your face. It’s always nice imagining the reasons behind smiles. Festivities boost the emotion.

To be honest, you were getting uncomfortable at the center of the crowd. Kaeya may be talented at blending in, but you get too awkward for exchanges. It’s funny because he’s the one with the eyepatch. However, you’ve always been better at watching from a distance. It’s troubling that Kaeya nearly manages to close it between the two of you every time.

You have to remind yourself that you’re not special.

“Death in the afternoon,” he sighs. “A delectable concoction. It’s a shame you refuse to drink with me.”

“Well, who’s gonna drag you home and stop you from cuddling barrels?” You roll your eyes. “What would you do without me?”

You breath hitches in your throat when you turn towards him, the smug smile wiped off your face. He’s so close you can feel his breath, warm as candlelight. As cheeky as he can be, you can’t help the rush of blood to your arteries when he looks down at your lips and back at your eyes. Kaeya Alberich. Your demise and your dawn.

“Ah-ah,” he whispers, the tone warning. “You should watch what you say, dear.”

“And what did I say?” You reply softly.

“Nothing but the truth.” His smile grows wider. His voice drips of gold and you are not immune to treasure. 

Before you can find yourself leaning in, you look away and an obnoxious laugh follows. He’s always extra flirty when he’s drunk.

You’re not special.

Then, can he stop making you feel that way?

“You do feel something for me,” he states, pleased with his conclusion.

“What makes you say that?” You refuse to meet his eyes.

“Just a hunch,” he answers before a dry laugh befalls his lips. “Or maybe hope. You understand, don’t you?”

“The only thing I understand is that you reek of alcohol,” you chide, placing your hand against your hip.

“Can I tell you a secret then?” He sighs, defeated.

You tilt your head, awaiting an explanation.

Much to the shock of your poor heart, he leans in to place his lips right by your ear.

“You know I’m never really that drunk, right?”

“Huh?”

A giggle follows. He sounds like a child gleefully explaining that he did the exact thing his parents warned him not to do.

“Gosh, you’re just so cute I… I truly am sorry.”

Kaeya stops himself, pursing his lips. You’re not sure what holds him back. But you know it must be something of grave consequence. No word of the Cavalry Captain has been offered in vain. Even if they’re chock full of fluff, they work like clockwork under Kaeya’s careful planning.

“Can you hold me please?”

His request is quiet. You can barely process it when he picks up your hands and places his cheeks between your palms.

“I’m sorry I never seem to be able to say it,” he hums. “I end up worrying more often than not.”

“Worrying about what?” You lean in. The chatter of the tavern seems to have died down, but you know for a fact it’s the blood rushing to your ears.

“I’ve spilled enough secrets, haven’t I?”

“You’re so cryptic,” you huff. “I never know what you’re plotting.”

“Oh please, it’s all from the heart,” he pouts. “I don’t plot.”

“Yeah, right. You scheme like a criminal. If you weren’t a Knight of Favonius, I’m sure you’d be swiping shit left and right.”

“I’m offended you think I’d be a lowly thief.”

“A robber then?”

“Why do you want me to steal things so bad? Only your heart could get me to do that.”

You gag, curling your lips. “I can’t believe you said that out loud.”

Kaeya laughs out loud, leaning in a bit when he does. The glow over his cheekbones, only brightens under the dim tavern lights, and you swear you can count the lashes on his eyes, plenty and long. It’s embarrassing to admit how he lights up your heart. You manage to pry your hands out of his and shove them inside your pocket. He makes a whine of protest but doesn’t chase after.

“Seriously, Kaeya, all your flirting will land you in trouble.”

“I am serious. When it comes to you, more than anything.”

You scoff. “There you go again. Is it part of your grand plan to flirt Teyvat into submission? Hell, you almost made me fall for you the first time we met.”

“Oh? What stopped you?”

“The fact that you’re a filthy liar.”

You’re only joking but Kaeya purses his lips, a deep frown lining his features.

“Would you have fallen if I let fate run its course?”

“Huh?”

“I can’t trust the stars and planets to align just for the two of us,” he hums, looking out the window. “But I choke over my words trying to line the dominoes. So much for effortless.”

“Is this another scheme I’m unaware of?”

“Mhm. I’m afraid you’d hate me if you were aware.”

“Nothing could get me to hate you.”

Kaeya snorts. “Gosh, fate is a funny thing. It’s not my friend yet it landed me here—and even then, I can’t bear to look at your lips.”

A rush of blood warms your face.

“But I must confess…” He continues, eyes distant. “As a sinner must.”

You finally understand what he’s getting at.

I don’t deserve love. Kaeya acts flirty, dips his words in liquid gold and lines his smile with diamonds—but not for once, has he ever believed in words of kindness. He’s not the wide-eyed boy you heard about from Adelinde; but he’s not so jaded he’d break your heart without second thought. Kaeya is a hard man to read—but with the way he melts against your touch, you can’t help but feel he longs for the same warmth you do.

“I stand by what I said,” you respond quietly. “I wouldn’t hate you no matter what.”

“Even if I'm Machiavellian scum that lies every other sentence? Even if I want you so desperately, I’m willing to deceive you? Even if- even if—”

“It’s alright, Kaeya.” You press your index finger to his lips, his eyes widening in surprise. It makes you giggle.

He sighs. “It’s not bad practice to question every blessing in my life.”

A teasing smile tugs at your lips. “Is that why you interrogate me so often?”

Kaeya shakes his head, and you remove your finger. He reaches out an arm, placing his hand on your head as though in a comforting pat, but instead he messes all your hair up.

“Hey!” You yell, his laughter following as you try to reach for his head and fail, blocked by the rapid reflex of his arms.

“You’re so annoying,” you snap. “Come here, you- you rascal!”

Kaeya’s laughter only grows, as though he’s being tickled. In a way, he might as well be—your scrunched up face and angry insults have the same effect. The atmosphere lightens just like that. In a last attempt, you try to sneak in your hands as fast as you can, only for gloved ones to clutch them, effectively stopping any movement.

“You won’t win against me,” Kaeya whispers, leaning in.

A rush of blood to your head snaps you to reality, in focus of the lack of distance between the two of you. Kaeya’s lips are soft, glossy even and you know from the scent it’s the same strawberry lip balm you gifted him. How unfortunate for you that it smells delicious.

“Oh my god, of course they’re flirting under the mistletoe.”

What you didn’t expect were the tall figures of the Acting Grand Master and the winery owner himself standing by the tavern door with their arms crossed. A certain outrider covers her blushing face behind them, eyes wide with whatever wild imagination she’s trying so hard to tame. A few other knights stand scattered around them, already easing into the party atmosphere of the tavern. You’re not sure what prompted a visit from the whole Favonius crew. 

Jean giggles before Kaeya can retort with anything. “So this is where you sneaked off to.”

Diluc looks disgusted for the most part but goes along with Jean. Amber, on the other hand, looks like she’s holding back laughter. 

“Oh dear, what brings our busy bees to Cat’s Tail?”

“The afterparty,” Jean answers, biting back a smile. “Which you would know if you joined us.”

Amber giggles behind her. “We had mistletoes at the headquarters too, you know?”

“You can’t keep Kaeya away from wine,” Diluc mutters with distaste.

“And you can’t keep him away from (name) either,” Jean adds, laughing. “Sorry for crashing your date.”

“I’m surprised you’re not snogging each other’s faces off,” Amber chirps. “I wish Eula was here… Not- not for the mistletoe, of course.”

“That, I did not plan,” Kaeya turns to you before anything else, pointing upwards. He looks genuinely caught off guard though he tries his best to mask it.

“So? Where’s the kiss?” Amber teases. 

“That’s enough, Amber,” Jean laughs, shaking her head. “This is the first time I’ve seen Kaeya teased to a loss of words.”

You’re not sure which one of them gave Kaeya the final push. Maybe it was you.

Warm lips press against yours in a heartstopping kiss, the hands of the clock stopping all at once. Time holds nothing against the two of you—and Kaeya swears your own name against your lips.

When he pulls away after what felt like far too little, your fingers fly to your lips and you can barely register your audience. Jean is flushed fully red despite her teasing remarks and Diluc covers Ambers eyes while she waves around comically. However, the crowd erupts into cheers, with a loud chant of “Fucking finally!” from one of the knights.

Kaeya knows how to please people, even if he doesn’t choose to.

“Let’s go,” Kaeya whispers in your ear, when the spotlight befalls other couples in the tavern. You’re not sure what chain reaction Kaeya’s lighted, but you’re glad to have an excuse to leave.

The cold air hits you harsher than you expected. But it’s the same old Mondstadt, same old comforting walls.

“Sorry” is the first thing Kaeya says. 

“Why?” You hold your breath.

“Because as much as I want to say I did that to get us out, I enjoyed it far too much.” Kaeya frowns, unable to meet your eyes. 

“You never heard me out,” you whisper.

He finally looks up, awaiting your explanation. He’s even prettier under the midnight moon. He’s too pretty to look this way, torn between his ways and what’s right.

“I know you refuse to listen to me no matter what,” you breathe. “Is it so hard to believe I’m in love with you?”

Kaeya blinks. “But… but it’s my fault, isn’t it? I laid the groundwork- and- and I set the scene—I did this to you.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” You giggle. “Doesn’t that mean you care?”

“But- but… I- I could be using you! How could you trust me so easily?”

You take a step forward. “What could you gain by using me, silly? It’s okay to admit you want to be loved, Kaeya.”

Kaeya lets himself get pulled in by you, resting his chin on your shoulder. How long has it been since someone’s hugged him this way? He’s engulfed by your scent, unable to think straight.

“But that’s when terrible things happen,” he mumbles against your skin.

“That won’t stop me,” you declare. “You could be a criminal, a sinner, a heathen—and I’d still hold you when you want me to.”

His walls are crumbling. 

“You deserve better.”

“Mhm. But it’s you I’m holding.”

Kaeya finally gives in, wrapping his arms around your waist tighter. His breath is warm against your neck and though the faintest smell of alcohol wafts from him, you run your fingers through his hair. It’s finally warm enough.

“Shall we?” You whisper. It’s time to go home.

“Is this a scheme of yours?” Kaeya chuckles softly, recovered.

“Only because I care,” you answer, smiling.

You clap your hands gleefully, beaten him at yet another match at the small Christmas party hosted by Nilou. He’s too straightlaced to win at bluff, and you’re too hotheaded to play poker. So, the two of you have taken to another sort of card game. Of course, with your cheerful yelling and his miserable expression, you made the game look a bit too exciting.

“So what’s my prize?” You tease, grinning ear to ear. That look only means trouble and Cyno is unprepared.

“I won’t ask for much—don’t look so glum.” You pout, before leaning in to whisper, “A kiss maybe? You haven’t kissed me all day.”

It’s too warm for him to be feeling this way. Yes, he’s dating you; and yes, you flutter his heart as though ripples on a pool. It’s effortless, and his breathing gets uneasy when left five minutes alone with you.

“Ugh.” Alhaitham scrunches up his face, earning a glare from the General Mahamatra himself.

Dehya elbows him immediately, shushing him. “They’re having a moment!”

“Well, they’re having too many moments for one night,” Alhaitham grumbles.

Kaveh stifles a laugh. “Just admit you’re lonely and miserable.”

“At least I’m not lonely and homeless.”

“Hey, now—”

The mirth of your laughter fills the warm Christmas air—after all, it never gets too cold in Sumeru. If Cyno is being honest, you’re the one who makes it feel like Christmas with your explosive joy and sparkling curiosity for all things wondrous. He stays up for hours by your side as you name the stars in the winter skies, joy unbound—he’s always wondered how you keep the flame in you alive. He’s drawn like a moth to it.

(“Acually, moths are drawn to bright light because it confuses their navigational system, so that’s a bit of rude comparison, isn’t it?” was your response to the phrase. 

To be very honest, you do confuse his navigational system sometimes.)

“Alright, anyone else who thinks they can beat me?” You flex your bicep in an exaggerated gesture.

“Do we get a kiss too?” Kaveh asks, and is promptly hit in the face by a pillow. The General Mahamatra’s right arm never misses.

“That was a joke! A joke!” Kaveh covers his nose, tears in his eyes. A pillow shouldn’t hurt so much. “Nilou, do you use bricks for the stuffing?”

“Yes, it keeps my back straight for my performances!” Nilou smiles innocently.

Kaveh is rendered speechless while the others hold back laughter.

“That was a joke, Kaveh,” she giggles, covering her mouth with the back of her hand.

“I hate all of you.”

Cyno loves your laughter. It reminds him of holidays and sweet caramel pie kisses. The bells ringing in his ears stop abruptly as he reminds himself of his consecutive defeats. Oh, the shame. But Christmas Eve is no time to sulk. He bites his lower lip to keep from pouting like a schoolboy. General Mahamatra, reduced to a lovesick puppy at your hands. That should be the greater shame.

But is it really his fault when it’s you, with joy blooming at your fingertips?

“Well, if no one’s got enough balls to challenge me,” you announce, looping your arms under Cyno’s hoodie and around his waist. “I will be cuddling my boyfriend and being disgustingly romantic.”

Now, this puts Cyno in a predicament. He wants to play more with you, but for heaven’s sake, he can’t have your arms anywhere but around him. He clenches his jaw, a bit of a sulk brushed over his face.

You, on the other hand, try your hardest to suppress your smug smile. When it comes to flustering your dear, straightforward boyfriend, you’ve got a few cards up your sleeve. You’re not saying you cheated—of course not. But the visible conflict on his face is worth every dime of luck you were graced with for these games. 

As Kaveh likes to say, you’re menace to society. But really, you’re only a menace to Cyno.

“You’re warm,” you mumble, snuggling closer.

“Must be uncomfortable in the heat,” he hums a response. His fingers run through your hair in a rhythm akin to clockwork.

“Not at all.”

Cyno is used to being perplexed by you all the time. You never make sense. A few minutes pass by, as the two of you enjoy people watching (Kaveh is swearing at Alhaitham; Dehya only makes it worse). It’s your favorite activity, but your friends’ antics make it a sport.

“My arm is falling asleep.” Cyno grunts, trying to sit up straighter.

You click your tongue. “Shh. Let it sleep.”

“(Name), if only you weren’t leaning your whole body weight on only my left forearm.”

“Oh, do you want to be on top instead?”

Remind Cyno why he’s wearing the hoodie again? The heat rushing through his skin makes it hard to breathe for a second or two, as he tugs at his collar. You stitched two sunflowers onto it—and the one with devil horns is supposed to represent him. That cannot be right.

“Don’t- don’t say that out loud, (name).” He clears his throat. “Everyone might get the wrong idea.”

You make your mouth in an ‘o’ shape, lowering your voice. “Shall I say it in private then? When we’re—”

You might be the only one in Sumeru that can cause a severe coughing fit within the General Mahamatra. He’s dating the number one threat to his life. No assassin could come close.

A snort follows from a distance beside you, making you turn. Nilou sticks her tongue out as though at fault. “Whoops. Did not need to overhear that. I’ll go slice the tension between Kaveh and Alhaitham. The one between you two is…”

Nilou makes a pained expression, still managing to offer a thumbs up.

“...beyond my capabilities.”

You stick your tongue back out at her. “You’re the one who set up our first date!”

“And I’m so happy for you guys but you make me want to take a bath with an electro slime.” With one last sweet smile, she vanishes to the other side of the room. It’s true that your roommate is the one who introduced you. Nilou’s intuition is as sharp as ever. You’d thank her more if she didn’t sob every time you talk about Cyno because you’re ‘simply too cute’.

Cyno turns to you with a puzzled expression. “What does that mean?”

“What does what mean?”

“An electro slime bath. That must be uncomfortable.”

You blink. Taking a deep breath, you face him.

“So she means… It’s because we’re too coupley- and- uh, she’s not doing cute coupley stuff so- uh- she’s joking that she’d rather get electrocuted.”

Yeah, there’s no way you’re explaining this one.

“Oh, no wonder she left lightning fast.”

“Oh god.”

“See, it’s because Nilou referenced an electro slime and lightning is—”

And in flash, you pull him down by the collar before he can complete, your lips on his. You thought Cyno wasn’t too fond of sweets, and yet, you taste salted caramel. For you isn’t a valid answer. It’s conceited but part of you wants to entertain the idea of it. After all, you did learn to play his favorite game, to cook with him in sync, and to share kisses where he likes them—all for him. Love is two-way rope, and both of you tug too hard.

“Do you wanna take this up to the bedroom?” You tease, pulling away.

“Sure,” he says, tucking your hair behind your ears. “What’s up there?”

“Oh, by the way, do you have protection?”

Cyno straightens, furrowing his brows. “Why? What the fuck’s up there?”

That’s it. You can no longer hold back your laughter. You swear your boyfriend is funnier when he’s not trying.

“Stop laughing, (name).” Cyno crosses his arms, a look close to offense flashing across his eyes. “I don’t have my staff. Is there something bothering you?”

You can only laugh harder, trying your best to form a coherent response with tears in your eyes. Only Cyno can make you laugh this hard, much to the abject horror of everyone else in Sumeru. In a way, they’re grateful you’re their shield against his forsaken jokes. 

You roll your eyes. “Yes, Cyno. There’s a lot of stuff up there that’s oh so scary. Like my dil—”

“(Name).”

🎄 decorate the tree

🍒 caught under the mistletoe~ 

🍪 make a gingerbread house together

☃️ snowball fight! (but they made a bet and now they’re fighting for their lives)

🎅 they’re each other’s secret santa 

🍽 preparing the christmas dinner together

☕️ coffee date! ...err but the line’s too long

🎁 pranking each other with the presents

🍬 late night sugar rush adventure

🐶 dressing up their pets in festive wear

⛸ ice skating! (but can they skate?)

🧊 who can build a better ice sculpture?

🧣 showing up to a fancy event in ugly christmas sweaters

💘 making fun of couples doing cliche winter activities while not realizing they’re in love with each other

🔅 walking around the city to see the christmas lights

🥂 concocting cursed holiday cocktails 

🎬 hallmark movie marathon... but someone falls asleep midway through

🎊 at a family christmas party trying to convince everyone that they are, in fact, dating

🎯 holiday game night but someone’s way too competitive

📷 drunk after party photobooth shoots 

🎆 enjoying a fireworks show together, but someone’s not looking at the fireworks

🔥 going camping bc y’all like freezing to death. (jk it’s roasting marshmallows by a campfire and telling each other childhood stories)

🎲 flex slot ! (send in any activity you like that’s not in the prompts)

example tropes: enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, fake dating, mutual pining, etc. just let me know what you come up with! it’s pretty much a free slot ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა you can also request aus, like modern au, etc!

if you have extra nuances, you can also detail them out! just have fun ৻(  •̀ ᗜ •́  ৻)