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137 » and it's so sad to see us fall apart
[I'm fine, he keeps saying, but it's mechanical rather than something felt. He keeps saying it because Paimon keeps asking, but really, he's barely listening to her. He's been wandering in circles.
"Shouldn't we head back to Mondstadt for a break?" the fairy chirps, a little timidly, but he only shakes his head and keeps walking. Where to? He isn't sure. He's been avoiding Mondstadt and Springvale on purpose, but it's not as though he's going to walk headlong into Stormterror's Domain, either; looking around, he's somewhere on the outskirts of the Dawn Winery, at the edge of the vineyards.
He'll have to turn back. He doesn't want to see anyone right now.
It's less to do with Diluc, or Adelinde, or Hillie and Moco, and more to do with How could she? and Why did she? Except he knows why, she told him why, but even so, he can't — he can't fathom — he can't understand it. He replays the scene over and over in disjointed breaths, the way he'd reached out and his hand closed tight around nothing as the portal sealed itself behind her. And behind Dain, he remembers with a dull ache. They both left me.
(He'd thought — well, it doesn't matter what he'd thought. He was naïve. Of course he knew that Dain had secrets of his own, a life of his own, but still, for a moment there, he'd started to like the man. Started to trust him. Think of him as a friend and companion. It felt — it felt, briefly, like Dain had started to see him that way, too. But then Lumine appeared, and he knew; he knew it the way that he felt it too. Dain would have abandoned everything he knew for her. And how can Aether hold that against him, when he too would abandon everything in Teyvat for Lumine? How can Aether be angry when he would have done the same thing if he were the one in Dainsleif's position?
And yet — and yet it chafes, to be the one cast aside. Oh, the way Dain left him behind, bruised and bleeding, to chase after the girl who was his sister to begin with. His feelings aren't rational: there's selfishness and jealousy and envy all mixed in. If he trusted me at all, Aether thinks, dully, it was because I was a replacement for her.
Lumine is mine, a desperate part of Aether whispers, and then there's another part, small and plaintive: Lumine belongs to no one. You're nothing but the sad imitation of her.)
"Aether, you're bleeding," Paimon says, uncharacteristically soft, and he just looks down at the open gash where the Abyss Herald grazed him, and looks back at the road ahead. It's not important. It's mostly dried. The blood around his head and neck from when he'd been slammed into the wall — that's mostly dried, too. He wiped it out of his eyes at some point. It might have mixed in with his tears.
He's not crying anymore. He didn't really cry to begin with, not in front of Paimon, never in front of Paimon. But there'd been the quick pass of his wrists over his eyes and — and. Anyway. He's. He has to pull himself together.
I'm fine, he says again, and he knows it's stopped comforting Paimon because the fairy only twists her fingers together and wrings her hands a little, looking around as if searching for someone who can help.
A sound startles them both: footsteps from the road. Paimon only perks up, hopeful, but Aether reacts like a wounded wolf, snapping to attention to bring his sword in front of him. He knows it's pointless; hilichurls don't step that lightly, and it's probably just someone, someone like Connor or Tunner or anyone else who works here. He's only snarling at nothing. But it happens all the same. What am I even doing, he thinks, dull and toneless even in his own mind. Who am I protecting with this? Myself?]
...Who's there?
[His voice shakes a little on it.]
"Shouldn't we head back to Mondstadt for a break?" the fairy chirps, a little timidly, but he only shakes his head and keeps walking. Where to? He isn't sure. He's been avoiding Mondstadt and Springvale on purpose, but it's not as though he's going to walk headlong into Stormterror's Domain, either; looking around, he's somewhere on the outskirts of the Dawn Winery, at the edge of the vineyards.
He'll have to turn back. He doesn't want to see anyone right now.
It's less to do with Diluc, or Adelinde, or Hillie and Moco, and more to do with How could she? and Why did she? Except he knows why, she told him why, but even so, he can't — he can't fathom — he can't understand it. He replays the scene over and over in disjointed breaths, the way he'd reached out and his hand closed tight around nothing as the portal sealed itself behind her. And behind Dain, he remembers with a dull ache. They both left me.
(He'd thought — well, it doesn't matter what he'd thought. He was naïve. Of course he knew that Dain had secrets of his own, a life of his own, but still, for a moment there, he'd started to like the man. Started to trust him. Think of him as a friend and companion. It felt — it felt, briefly, like Dain had started to see him that way, too. But then Lumine appeared, and he knew; he knew it the way that he felt it too. Dain would have abandoned everything he knew for her. And how can Aether hold that against him, when he too would abandon everything in Teyvat for Lumine? How can Aether be angry when he would have done the same thing if he were the one in Dainsleif's position?
And yet — and yet it chafes, to be the one cast aside. Oh, the way Dain left him behind, bruised and bleeding, to chase after the girl who was his sister to begin with. His feelings aren't rational: there's selfishness and jealousy and envy all mixed in. If he trusted me at all, Aether thinks, dully, it was because I was a replacement for her.
Lumine is mine, a desperate part of Aether whispers, and then there's another part, small and plaintive: Lumine belongs to no one. You're nothing but the sad imitation of her.)
"Aether, you're bleeding," Paimon says, uncharacteristically soft, and he just looks down at the open gash where the Abyss Herald grazed him, and looks back at the road ahead. It's not important. It's mostly dried. The blood around his head and neck from when he'd been slammed into the wall — that's mostly dried, too. He wiped it out of his eyes at some point. It might have mixed in with his tears.
He's not crying anymore. He didn't really cry to begin with, not in front of Paimon, never in front of Paimon. But there'd been the quick pass of his wrists over his eyes and — and. Anyway. He's. He has to pull himself together.
I'm fine, he says again, and he knows it's stopped comforting Paimon because the fairy only twists her fingers together and wrings her hands a little, looking around as if searching for someone who can help.
A sound startles them both: footsteps from the road. Paimon only perks up, hopeful, but Aether reacts like a wounded wolf, snapping to attention to bring his sword in front of him. He knows it's pointless; hilichurls don't step that lightly, and it's probably just someone, someone like Connor or Tunner or anyone else who works here. He's only snarling at nothing. But it happens all the same. What am I even doing, he thinks, dull and toneless even in his own mind. Who am I protecting with this? Myself?]
...Who's there?
[His voice shakes a little on it.]
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I...
[Kaeya's fingers are in his hair and Kaeya's arm is around his shoulders and there's an awful, terrible part of Aether that wants to cry, very quietly, about how his sister chose something else over him.]
I don't want to be alone. [It feels better to have admitted that. Feels worse, too.] I can take care of myself. I think. I just... might need a little help with my hair.
[He tries to sound confident; he tries to sound like himself. Seized by the sudden need to do something, anything, he starts to undress in a very slow, mechanical way, starting with the clasp on his scarf before he loosens it from around his neck. There's something visibly surreal about the way he's moving: as if through an ocean of water, forcing himself through the mire.]
...Sorry. [He closes his eyes, hangs his head. The half-dried blood stuck to his scalp turns his beautiful hair so ugly.] I must look like...
[Such a mess, is what he vaguely wants to say, but he can't quite think of how to put it. His mind is elsewhere, so far away except for where it lingers on the place where Kaeya's touching him. The one solid thing in this world. He thinks that, and then finds himself surprised that he doesn't have a correction for himself. He wants to believe it.]
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Then he apologizes, slumping into the very picture of contrition. What? Though it doesn't keep Kaeya's hands away, one gently disentangling the rest of the scarf, the other tracing its thumb gently along Aether's jawline. As the fabric hits the floor, Kaeya's quick fingers move to other nearby clasps and ties.]
You look like hell.
[This is the farthest from a judgment that Kaeya knows how to hand down. What else could anyone expect the traveler to look like? After what he's been through today? And that's with his own limited understanding of exactly what Aether and his sister...mean to each other.]
So you're in luck. [He cups Aether's cheek, but doesn't apply any pressure. No forcing him to look up.] I'm an expert in the field.
[He wants, suddenly, desperately, to pull the traveler closer and just hold him. Knowing that won't drive out the demons doesn't matter. And for whose sake, exactly? He can't convince himself that it would be for Aether's alone.
(He doesn't say that the rain and the blood and the haunted distance don't do anything to mar his appearance at all. Doesn't say beautiful, tries not to think it.)]
I'm not leaving. Understand? They'd have to pick me up and throw me out to get that to happen.
[His heart races at the thought. They just might. He shouldn't be here, not now not ever. He has to be here. For Aether. For Aether, Kaeya's voice holds steady even though his hands shake a little.]
Wouldn't matter, if they did. I know all the secret ways back in.
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He's not like this. With anyone else. He's warm, certainly; charming, certainly. He's not the type to turn away from someone else in need — he's just the type to help them in unconventional ways that might sometimes seem like bullying. But would he promise anyone else that he wouldn't leave? Aether thinks he knows the answer, but he's terrified to admit it to himself. Terrified because it might seem like arrogant hubris; terrified because, if he's wrong, that will hurt worse than if he'd just kept himself at distance.
But Kaeya's hand is touching his cheek and Aether leans into the touch, both hands coming up to cradle the knight's larger palm. He can't help but laugh, both at what Kaeya's saying and the general absurdity of the situation.]
You're too big to sneak in through the windows now, Kaeya...
[Wait, did Diluc and Kaeya grow up at the Dawn Winery? Or somewhere else?
Doesn't matter, Aether decides. He'll get the point. With a squeeze, Aether looks up, seeking the adamant concern in Kaeya's eye.]
Okay. I believe you. [How often — or infrequently — does Kaeya hear that?] I won't leave, either.
[He closes his eyes, lets out a breath. Lets himself just... breathe. There's Lumine, turning around and leaving him to flounder without her. There's Kaeya, giving him a hand to hold on to in the rushing waters of his own confusion.]
I'll be here... with you.
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Kaeya holds onto that. He'll have to, as tightly as he can. He closes his fingers around Aether's, too, awkward as their configuration is for now. This is fine. Now that they're inside, and have the chance to get dry, and there'll be food and Aether isn't in outright danger of- bleeding to death? Stabbing someone before asking questions? Simply fading from view but only for those who know what to look for?
As he absently undoes the tie that holds Aether's braid, he wonders just how many such people there are, here in Teyvat.
But he's done his best, under the circumstances, to deal with all the potential physical dangers.]
C'mon. [Where the Cavalry Captain might order a subordinate knight to follow - and he will, if he has to - Kaeya lets something far more casual take over, here. The living suites for guests at the Winery are exquisite, as defined by the late Crepus Ragnvindr and, apparently, not-bothered-with by his son. But there's a lot Diluc isn't willing to bother with.
Kaeya shakes his head to try to dislodge those thoughts before they put roots in. The point is that the bath is en suite, and there's a welcoming humidity to the room that threatens to pull the rain chill right out of Kaeya's bones too. It smells...nice enough. Something flowery, but not the headiness of a rose or lilac.
A bath deep enough for Aether to sink in up to his chest, if he's so inclined, waits for him. Kaeya snorts upon sight of a familiar collection of toiletries. The bubble bath, too? Adelinde planted it. There's no way she just hasn't noticed, she's far too good at her job, and it's unlikely some recent guest felt like building up mountains out of-
Kaeya steps back, just enough to give the traveler the space he requested: for undressing.]
Don't worry about your clothes. The staff here haven't met a stain that defeated them. [And blatantly reassuring things, like that, keep coming out of his mouth. Unprompted.]
And you might as well get comfortable. That's a lot of hair to wash.
[So Kaeya turns. Just enough. Aether can have privacy, unless he asks for help. Or until he's sunk into the steaming water and Kaeya - who can take off his gloves and roll up his sleeves, come to think of it - can get his hands dirty.]
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Aether, for his part, has not really noticed the bubble bath. His heart might remember what levity feels like if he did, but at the moment, he knows, he needs to get clean. Lumine isn't going to come back if he stays dirty. Lumine isn't going to come back at all, something cruelly reminds him. And what is he supposed to do without her? Who is he supposed to be without her?
He doesn't know. He does remember how to take off his clothes, though, and he's surprised to find that he doesn't really care about embarrassment or modesty in the moment. Off goes the top and the loose trousers he found himself in when Lumine first woke him and told him that they needed to run, and when they're gone, he realizes, he's just himself; he's still himself. Nothing has changed about the person that he is, or the body that he has.
Without Lumine, he's just himself.]
...Okay. I'm... I'm ready.
[He's — well, there's been a misunderstanding here. When he says that, he hasn't gotten into the water yet; he's forgotten about things like what he should look like in front of Kaeya, or wat he should or shouldn't show to others. Kaeya might turn around and find him just standing there, but — small mercies, at least — he sinks into the water of his own volition afterward, and then he rests his head against the edge of the tub, eyes closed, and doesn't move.]
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With his own outermost things discarded and his sleeves rolled up past his elbows, Kaeya kneels beside the bathtub. ...Hell. Why not? He doesn't make a show of it, but he does empty some of the bubble bath in, with the right amount of churning the water to cover the surface in a pleasantly-clean-scented lather.
Mountains. Dragonspine, its tall peak standing out among the rest of the range drawing its little line, like on a map, between Mondstadt and Liyue. Kaeya grits his teeth until it passes.]
Hair first. [While the water's at its cleanest, and still very warm. There's a cup set aside, and he fills it, gently tilting Aether's head back a bit more. This, more than anything so far, feels almost too intimate, and Kaeya finds he's whispering.] Tell me if it's...if you need a break.
[And so he works in silence, mindful of Aether's injury, careful not to pull hard with fingers that are almost too good at this? It may be apparent this isn't the first time this has happened, at least not from Kaeya's perspective. Listening for any sound Aether might make, good or bad; grabbing a clean washcloth to pull some of the blood away from the cut itself, all the while considering whether he ought to send some kind of message up to the church. Or maybe to Jean? But...he doesn't fancy making himself scarce right now, and it might be necessary.
Should Aether request that he stop, he will, of course. But unless or until that happens, Kaeya keeps his hands moving and his mouth closed. As if the wrong word, or any word, would shatter the glass so carefully blown around this, here.
There's a smaller, round tub of clean water that Kaeya makes short work of in rinsing the last of the soap from Aether's hair.]
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Everything's wrong. But at the same time, nothing's changed.
After some time — and once most of the blood has been mopped up, and Aether didn't flinch but his knee curled a little in the water while he was being touched — the traveler opens his eyes. He can't really see Kaeya from this angle, but he can feel his fingers, sense the general shape of his body kneeling behind him. The bubbles in the water are giving him a bit of modesty, and he's not so old and jaded that they don't make him a little happy.
After staying still for so long, Aether finally moves his arm: he pokes idly at a bubble in the water, then takes up some of the suds with his palm, watching the foam fizz and pop between his fingers.]
You're good at this. A little.
[He says a little like he couldn't bear the thought of giving Kaeya unqualified praise. Really it's just that he wonders why Kaeya is good at this; bath times with Diluc from long ago, maybe, or something else? Siblings. The way they should be, and not — whatever he and Lumine are now. Reunited but parted. Different, and some of those differences maybe-irreconcilable.]
...You should get a stool. Your knees are gonna hurt later like that.
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[It comes with a gentle but insistent poke at the temple on Aether's uninjured side. Then his hands are in the traveler's hair again, this time winding it all into a loose plait, even more relaxed than its customary swinging braid. A few extra twists, a bit of cord - and it will all stay clear of the water even if Aether sinks further into it. He'd have to get up to his nose in bubbles.
Kaeya crouches back, up onto the balls of his feet instead of the worrisome knees.]
I've got all afternoon to deal with my knees. You have only a little while until the water gets cold.
[An array of fancy soaps and lotions sits on a low shelf near the tub; Aether has his choice of scent, though all of them boast of local-to-Mondstadt make and ingredients. Kaeya can't recall the traveler ever explicitly smelling like flowers...
He hands over a dry washcloth, dropping to one knee again. A pale evocation of the picture of a dutiful servant. A knight, perhaps, before his liege.]
Help or no help...company or peace and quiet. Both your choice.
[As if, somehow, Kaeya's presence would bring the opposite of peace or quiet. But despite some stronger awareness, Aether still seems pretty out of it, and with good cause.]
But if you do ask me to leave, I'm not going further than through the door.
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There's something about this, too. Something about being handled as delicately as spun sugar, like he'd snap on the wrong breath.
When his hands move, mechanically, to take the washcloth, Aether looks into Kaeya's eye with something like open vulnerability on his face, and agrees to be honest.]
...I don't want you to leave.
[He doesn't quite feel like he knows what to do with the washcloth — maybe it's an outlander thing. He holds it loosely above the water, as if not sure whether or not he's supposed to let it get wet, but he also doesn't particularly move to wash himself. Just stays seated in the water, as if too tired to do anything but steep in its heat.]
It's kind of nice to feel like someone's worried about me.
[And that's weird to think about. He always assumed that Lumine was worried about him. But what if she wasn't, actually? What if she found other people to be worried about?
They must deserve it. He knows that. And yet... there are base impulses. There's regret and jealousy. He thought he'd paper all of Teyvat in missing-person posters, hoping to hear some news of her, and now it's just — this. The breaking of salt.]
But it feels wrong to think that way, too.
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[There's no need to elaborate. Neither of them needs Kaeya to dig into details regarding how, or what, or why he knows the horrible between space of wanting to be worried about and knowing it shouldn't be deserved.
Kaeya plucks the washcloth back out of Aether's hand. Water, soap, a little lather, and he's gently washing the traveler's back and shoulders. No question; no fanfare. It isn't rough - indeed, Aether is hardly dirty, and so there is little of intent-to-clean in his choices. It's meant to be...something to do. Soothing, probably. He will stop if Aether protests.]
Even if you think it's wrong, though. I'd be lying if I told you I wasn't worried.
[Is that fair? Aether has given over to honesty.
Kaeya closes his eye and breathes out.]
I am worried. [That is fair. When he is like this, Kaeya hates...the circular talk. The impetus put upon him to decipher, to parse and understand and respond.] But I also...believe you'll even out.
[Not that things will get better (they won't) or that he'll come through it fine (that's almost impossible) or the absolutely inane sort of "this will make you stronger" of which sunny people are entirely too fond. But that Aether can find some balance. Something that will let him keep going.
He'll pull Aethers arms from the water, one by one - a cursory wash, and a more careful cleaning of his other cut, just in case - and turn his hand over after, leaving the washcloth in it with the shadow of a smile.]
Take your time.
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Comfort was always something he stole in small, secret doses. It was the way he'd subtly nag Lumine into braiding his hair because she "did it better" when really she was a little rough with him but he just liked the feeling of her hands working behind him. It was the way he'd hold Paimon a little closer on cold nights because she'd get cranky if she woke up freezing, but also because he liked the warmth of her little sausagelike body in his arms. But has he ever looked at someone and asked them to care for him — has he ever had a mother or a father who would look at him and run their hands through his hair, or a lover to cradle him close —
If he did, then he can't remember it very clearly. But this, right now, with Kaeya — it's almost painful in its clarity. He lifts his arms so that Kaeya can clean his cuts and bruises and the bits of mud and dirt he picked up inside the Domain and in the woods outside, and Kaeya just accepts him in his entirety. Without asking. Without questioning.
He thinks it's dangerous. The way he wants this so much. There's a part of him that would like to curl up on one of Master Diluc's fine couches and just not have to move at all. ]
...I don't mean to make you worry.
[ Aether regrets saying it as soon as it leaves his mouth. His voice shakes a little, trembles a little, like he's apologizing for something that he's done. I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. It's not that he thinks Kaeya's chastising him, but it's that he's genuinely sorry for having to have Kaeya see him like this.
When he thinks Kaeya's finished mopping him up, he curls in on himself and hugs his knees against his chest in the bath. ]
I might just... I might have to be like this. For a while. I might just have to...
[ He shakes his head. He's sorry, he's made that much clear. ]
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He leans in, and his forehead gently rests against the side of Aether's face, only for a moment. Every movement is slow. Careful, but not for fear of scaring him, or any other affront to his dignity; rather, Kaeya is careful because care is what the traveler actually needs. Expects not to get.]
Then be like this.
[His voice folds over itself, soft, full of air without crossing the line into whispering. Rejecting the overwhelming pull to simply put his arms around Aether takes more concentration than he'll ever admit, and he has to find something to do with his arms, so he uses them to brace himself on the edge of the tub.
Kaeya presses his lips to Aether's temple.
It feels stolen. Right, at least, but stolen too, with the same deftness he often employs in swordplay, or wordplay. Whatever image he might prefer to wear about town, he would not take advantage of Aether like this - there's nothing to enjoy, here. For either of them. Advances ought to be fun for at least one of the people involved.
Lucky them, then, that he didn't mean any advances. Not this time.]
Just...be like this. Until it's gone.
[At a loss for words, and with the barrier of the bath preventing him from doing much else comforting with his hands, Kaeya moves ever so slightly back and...waits.]
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Not in a bad way. It's just — it's just.
It means something. Feels like something. To be reminded that there are people in this world who aren't Lumine and might still love him.
The moment passes; eternity fades away in the blink of an eye. Aether's lungs kick into working order again, and then he remembers what breathing is supposed to be like. Oxygen rushes into his lungs, in, out. Kaeya didn't mean it as an advance, and Aether knows that, but in the impossible moment, the traveler thinks that he would give Kaeya anything, give Kaeya everything. The sting of saline sits in the corners of his eyes, steals his breath away again. He feels like he's drowning. He blinks, and then the tears come rolling down his cheeks. ]
I... I just...
[ His voice fades away beneath the water. He brings his hands up to his face and gently wipes his cheeks, his face so wet now that his tears can't be distinguished from the wetness of the water. He's crying, but it isn't a bad thing. Maybe he's just relinquished his grip over everything that he was holding back. ]
I-It's just, for a moment, I really thought I'd be all alone...
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Kaeya does none of that. Aether gets to cry on Aether's terms.
(All of those things, the easy reassurances, the good intentions, they're all about what he'll do for other people. Kaeya's heard a few himself. They misfire, every time.)
It isn't long before the water's too cold to be good for him. After the traveler's dry, dressed in something (probably?) old of Diluc's - Aether isn't quite drowning in it - and through with Kaeya's best first-aid-kit patch-up; after Adelinde has brought them each a dumpling stew and fresh bread and hot cider, and Paimon spends a while flipping between eating sticky honey roast and fretting in speedy sentences over Aether and his stillness; after Kaeya on impulse steals a sheet of paper and a pen and ink from the guestroom desk and writes a note to Jean, which is a good idea and a diversion tactic, and coerces Paimon to deliver it to headquarters with the promise of getting her a sweet madame later on; there follows silence.
Some stew remains. It seems Aether's only picked at it. Evaluating this, Kaeya frowns at his own urge to...urge him to eat it.
But he's let some other things sit unanswered for long enough.]
There are promises I can't keep.
[Should Aether look up, he'll meet Kaeya's eye easily.]
But...one I think I can, is not just disappearing on you. So you can worry a little less about..."all alone".
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But that's just the way that Aether is. Always keeping tally, counting things off on an emotional ledger that he needs to keep in balance for fear that he might disappear tomorrow without even a final word for the people he's come to care about.
He's calmed down some, now. His eyes are a little reddened from crying, and his fingers are shakier than he'd like them to be, but he's looking and sounding a lot more like his normal self. He does have to sniffle before he answers Kaeya, though, his eyes downcast. ]
...Will you stay with me for a little while longer, then?
[ Aether can't say that he disagrees. He himself can't keep the promise of "not just disappearing." But today, with Lumine — maybe he can stop thinking about things that way. If she refused to leave with him, then that means... that means he isn't going to disappear tomorrow.
Irony of ironies. She was always the one exhorting him not to get attached. ]
I'm just... I don't know. [ A sigh. ] I don't like having to feel so vulnerable.
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In a way, they're lucky. The guest suite has a little table and two chairs, perfect for completely eliminating the need to have their warm-me-up meal in the proper dining room. The emptiness of the rest of the grand table wouldn't lend itself to any sort of intimate conversation.
Kaeya stirs the remaining broth in his bowl without taking a bite. He's dimly aware that he never really dried off, that his hair is still limp in places and he hasn't changed out of his rain-drenched, bath-dampened shirt.]
Sure. I planned on staying, even if you didn't ask.
[Not just because, although the downpour has ended, it's still raining with some enthusiasm. Not just because if he simply left, even now, it might feel and look a little too much like blatantly running from a past he'd rather not engage with in any of its forms.
He hadn't really considered either of those things.]
I'd hate it, too. If our...positions were reversed.
[This doesn't warrant a smile. Kaeya shrugs one shoulder.]
Having to be vulnerable.
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Despite how hollowed-out he felt, and how awful he still feels, Aether suddenly remembers what it's like to be hungry. The bowl of stew and loaf of bread in front of him is just too tempting. Slowly, he curls his fingers around the spoon, and lifts some of the broth to his lips. It's salty and welcoming and warm, and the taste of it makes him feel grounded to the world.
He suddenly feels another urge to cry, but for different reasons than before. Knowing that it wouldn't be productive to do that again, Aether just lets his reddened eyelids flutter, and then he nods at nothing in particular. ]
...I wouldn't want you to feel this way. [ A brief pause. ] I wouldn't want anyone to feel this way. But especially... not you.
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He drains his cup of cider instead. How terrible of Adelinde, not to give him something stronger. They're on the property of the seat of Mondstadt's wine industry! It's criminal not to indulge.
As if catching himself in the act of too many silent diversions, Kaeya clears his throat and looks at the darkened window.]
I can't say I've never been where you are.
[This is, unless something changes drastically in the next few seconds, all Aether will get in the vein of Kaeya and family and disappearing. Of choosing the Abyss, in all the ways that might be interpreted.
Thunder rumbles gently by outside. He feels a sudden burst of remorse for asking Paimon to run his errand in this weather. But whoever is at headquarters will certainly take good care of her. ...Maybe, though, two sweet madames.]
Adelinde will probably tell you that you can stay the night here.
[She may insist on it. He can warm up, get some rest, some distance from the terrible day. Nothing will disturb him. (The same invitation would likely be extended to Kaeya, who refuses to admit this would happen, so that he doesn't have to plan his myriad refusals and reasons why this wouldn't be possible.)]
If she doesn't, or if you feel like that's not a great idea, then you can come home with me instead.
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[ There's kind of a feeling in it, one that's hard to pin down. It's almost impressive: despite the way his eyes are a little swollen and reddened from crying, Aether still manages to sound a little bit teasing in his soft voice. Affectionate.
He does know, at least, what Kaeya has done for him. He does understand. It's slowly easing behind him now, the hurt and the betrayal, and the knowledge that his sister doesn't need him anymore (knew all this time, and didn't think to seek him out, because he just wasn't important) will still hurt if he pokes at it in the future, but for the moment, at least, it doesn't ache. It's been wrapped up by a warm bath and the hot food in front of him and the memory of Kaeya's hands working magic across his scalp.
He thinks he'll have to find some way to repay Kaeya. He thinks it might never be enough. He also knows that he can never bring it up to the man directly, because Kaeya always conveniently forgets to collect on his debts.
Sighing, Aether has another few spoonfuls of broth, and his fingers curl slightly atop the table as he thinks about what it would be like to hold Kaeya's hand. ]
Whether I'm here or in Mondstadt... I think... right now, I just want to be with you.
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So. No. Aether isn't "home" with him. But hearing someone who doesn't have a stake in any of it imply that he is...ah. It's unexpected, that's all (all it can be. All it will be. Has to.).
Aether is teasing, anyhow. That's impressive, given the state of him, and Kaeya finds it easier to adopt his familiar little smirk and shift his shoulders in response.]
Well, you have me. [Which is sincere.] Whatever you decide to do with me depends on your...creativity. [Which isn't. ...Or at least not entirely.]
The truth is, [and he sighs, an admission of defeat for a fight the traveler probably didn't know he was having with himself] even if Diluc walked through the doors right now...he wouldn't be able to throw me out either. I look pitiful. He has too much of a heart.
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Lapsing into silence once more, Aether sighs and shakes his head. It's nice that Kaeya's slid back into his little smirk, his vague entendres, and there's a part of Aether that really does enjoy their little back-and-forth interactions. Maybe he's not quite ready to work all the way back up to it, though. ]
...If you'd be more comfortable elsewhere... we could go back to your place. Or anywhere else you'd like to be.
[ He closes his eyes. ]
Windrise... Starsnatch Cliff. Doesn't matter. Just — stay. [ His voice trembles on it a little; he repeats himself in the hopes of sounding more assertive. ] Just stay.
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[Kaeya's fond disbelief is evident in his voice. Though the affection is very real, he wants to make a point of it anyway. Aether still looks fragile.
And exhausted. He may want companionship, but he needs a nap, probably, so it's a good thing they've been in a bedroom all this time. Kaeya gets up (the chair pushing back makes noise, and if Aether looks, Kaeya will bow playfully) and, without any ceremony whatsoever, lifts Aether right out of his chair.
It's only a few steps to the bed, and Kaeya sets him down. There. He'd hardly have had time to protest! And the cavalry captain is just beaming as he shakes some of his hair out of his face and sits atop the covers there beside the traveler.]
There's nowhere else in all of Mondstadt where we'd find such hospitality, either.
[Kaeya's smile softens; if Aether relents, he'll pull him gently to the side, so his blond head can rest on Kaeya's shoulder.]
And you're here. So, here is perfectly fine with me.
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The bow. The smile. The soft look in his eyes. This is Knightly Kaeya at his finest, and Aether just might be his hapless damsel in distress. He really tries not to feel that way, of course — but then Kaeya sets him down, still smiling, and Aether...
Aether's not used to that smile being for him. There is a part of him that wants to resent it — wants to distrust it immediately as being fake. There is a whole other part of him that can't help but be flustered instead, and unfortunately, Kaeya is close enough that he'll be able to see the blush on the Traveler's cheeks. ]
Y-You're so — !
[ Stumbling, Aether gives up. Lumine has rejected him and the world that was upside-down has been righted again, and it's too soon after feeling sad to feel like this, and Aether can't help but bury his face in his hands as if that'll stop Kaeya from seeing the dusting of pink on his face.
He mumbles around his fingers: ]
...And people say your charm is fake.
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[The inflection is completely-taken-aback, and the blink to accompany it suitably owlish.]
Well, people are completely mistaken. They're probably just jealous of my natural allure.
[It's good that he's like this - Aether. That he's being a bit dramatic and hiding his face in his hands and blushing. They're all steps away from the shadow he was walking under when Kaeya ran into him earlier. Not that he was lying when he said he knew Aether would even out, but it's nice to witness it starting to happen firsthand.
Kaeya pulls the traveler just a little closer.]
Or they haven't bothered to pay any attention at all, and they only see what they want to see.
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Aether peeks from between his fingers, and then sets his hands into his lap. He closes his eyes. He lets Kaeya hold him where he is. Anchor him to the world that's threatening to slip from beneath his feet. ]
...
...I like you, though.
[ In a soft, quiet voice. It seems nice to admit it, somehow. That he likes Kaeya. That he likes something about Teyvat. That he likes a lot of things about Teyvat, actually, and Lumine doesn't have to be the only reason he's in it.
He'll go on. He lets himself wrap his arms around Kaeya in return, sinking into him, and the solid presence that he offers. ]
I really, really like you, Kaeya.
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There was a time when this felt safe for him.
Now there is a chance it can feel safe for Aether.
He wants that. Even if it means (especially if it means?) Kaeya is the catalyst for making it happen.
Aether's arms wrap around him and he feels the traveler relax at last. It isn't really the first time either of them has admitted to feelings that would probably be better spent elsewhere...
Kaeya can feel his own heartbeat.]
I'm easy to like.
[They're so close that his breath moves stray strands of Aether's hair. He settles himself better, to hold Aether's weight but also to let the bed and pillows hold them both up.]
So are you. I've been caught and I don't even want to try breaking free.
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[ Kaeya's arms around around his shoulders, holding him up as the pillows cradle his body, and really, Aether doesn't think he could move even if he wanted to. For the first time in a long while, relaxation has taken hold of him, chasing his perpetual tension away.
He breathes in, and Kaeya smells good. He breathes out, and it tickles a lock of the man's fine dark hair, silky and gleaming even in the low light.
He lets his body settle. He lets his body sink.
Tomorrow will be another day, and the journey doesn't have to end here. There's so much more that this world has to offer him, and if he's lucky, he'll be able to do a lot of it by Kaeya's side. ]
...Let's stay like this until the rain stops.
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[It takes some doing, to maneuver like this with Aether half on top of him and both of them so...horizontal, but Kaeya grabs the edge of the nearest blanket and folds it over Aether with a tug. He might not sleep. There's a lot on his mind.]
But, whenever it's over,
[He shouldn't.
It's hardly the time.
Kaeya steals another kiss, somewhere between the crown of Aether's head and his forehead. Like the first, it is quick and gentle and not asking for anything in return.]
I'll walk you home.