#🌊 — miyosei

[miyosei]

I LOVE YOU, HOW SWEET.

premise. epiphanies that come in bursts. ( or, what it’s like when he is starts to fall in love ) — ft. albedo, heizou, kazuha, thoma, tighnari

reader is gender neutral, no warnings everything is just nice and sweet, written in lowercase

ALBEDO. kreideprinz

albedo falls in love like a campfire at night — fitting for the chief alchemist's solitary camp set outside of mondstadt, situated only in the shallowest caves of dragonspine. it melts like the frozen rivers that hug the shore and thaws at the frozen edges of the heart he never had when klee comes running in excitedly cheering about how much fun she had while in your care.

things feel warmer when you're around. the way his name sounds at the ends of your lips, the feeling of your hand against his own, the way he can't help the fond smile from overtaking his face when you lose your mind to sleep at the fireplace. the winter storm rages just outside the cluttered space albedo calls his camp, and it is only you and him when you lean against him in your slumber.

and when you smile up at him embarrassed after waking, sleepy eyes and his signature coat wrapped around your shoulders to prevent you from becoming too cold in the night — albedo swears that something within the emptiness of his chest cavity skips a beat. warm and soft and blooming straight from where his heart should have resided and right out for the whole world to see.

"won't you get cold?" you ask, offering to share the large article of clothing with him. it's rather big, after all. surely the two of you would both fit under it without any problems.

in any other case, albedo would have denied that possibility. as a homunculus he takes only the temperatures of his surroundings — albedo does not feel them himself. but when the flames inside his chest burn their last logs, you make your return to the city without him. and for the first time in his life, the ever so intelligent chief alchemist can't explain the dimming warmth.

SHIKANOIN HEIZOU. analytical harmony

heizou falls in love like diving into the ocean. in fact, it's safe to say that he doesn't fall in love, because from the very first moment he laid eyes on you, he knew that you were the one. you, who rushed through the open doors of the tenyrou commission with flying paperwork in your hands and a uniform that was just slightly out of place around your shoulders — untied laces and a hat one size too big. you were late on your first day. how unprofessional, how sporadic, how interesting.

you barge into his life like a criminal on the run, and heizou decides right then that there could be nobody else but you. the look on his face when you're announced to be his new partner is priceless, one that no one will ever let him live down. and heizou is almost completely okay with that.

because there isn't anyone in the world he would rather ask for to accompany him, dragging you by the hand as the wind tussles your clothing and faint shouts of your names call from behind you. heizou's laughter fills the air and he does nothing but smile when you express your concerns.

the edge of the cliff soon approaches, crashing waves sound against the open air. with nowhere else to go, he turns to you with sparkling eyes and a grin that spells nothing but trouble and a plan that you're more than certain he hasn't thought through. but shikanoin heizou is unpredictable and a master at surprises, and shikanoin heizou does just that.

he pushes himself just over the edge, falling backwards with your hands held tightly in his own — throwing everything behind with the wind as it whips around him, free falling thousands of meters approaching the ocean depths. and for the first time in his life, heizou finally allows his guard down, wrapping his arms around you and breaking the surface.

KAEDEHARA KAZUHA. scarlet leaves pursue wild waves

kazuha is like a star at sea. a supernova waiting to happen he is fused together with flammable elements light years away reaching out to you with open arms, burning through the hydrogen fuel until the pressure collapses in on itself like a falling platform.

and if kaedehara kazuha is a star, then you are the night sky that envelops him whole — swallowing his light for as long as he can remember. you have been in his life for more years than not, and he cannot possibly imagine a life without.

stars live for millions of years, but humans only have a fraction of that time to share. and kazuha wastes none of it — he trails by your side like a lost puppy, recites to you poems with a love you only hear in your dreams. he traces the constellations in the night sky and guides your hand to follow the connecting lights.

there isn't a moment in time where he isn't utterly and hopelessly in love. the days seem brighter, the storms become more bearable, the past becomes written down on pages of memories ready to be released into the sky.

when the festival comes around, it's like he's meeting you for the first time all over again. quietly watching you under the lights and and full of thoughts he always wanted to say to you but could never voice them out loud. the supernova in his heart explodes into the universe, a confession worth a thousand words falls unheard under the booms of the golden fireworks — but the expression on his face alone is enough to tell you what he means.

THOMA. protector from afar

thoma's love blossoms like the promise of sakura blooms in early spring, as natural as the passing of seasons. it's almost like nothing changed, falling into routine so long ago that it's normal to wake up and see him making breakfast in the kitchen. it's normal to fall asleep on the cough together, held closely against his chest under the warm blanket. it's normal to hold hands at every given opportunity.

'yeah, we're on a date,' you jokingly say to a friend while passing by a festival stalls. with a grin, you spare a glance at thoma, ready to give him a cheeky, 'aren't we?' in further jest — stopping only when you see the soft look in his warm eyes.

he is inazuma's fixer, there's no problem in the world he can't take care of. but when you say those words so unashamed and so naturally, oh — this is one problem he doesn’t think he can fix.

winter comes to an end, and the flowers in his heart have since begun to bloom at an exponential rate — hyperaware of every lingering touch, every offhand comment, every time you hold him close and joke about how a life without him is a life not worth living at all.

and when you're surrounded by splashes of pink and falling petals like this — laughing beside him without a care in the world, thoma thinks he couldn't ever imagine a life without you either.

TIGHNARI. verdant strider

tighnari falls in love like prolonged silence. his mind is a puzzle, caught in a perpetual state of concentration; high on alert at all times — because when you live with a handful of reckless forest rangers, being anything less than his best is something he cannot afford to be. the tension is enough to make his head spin and chest tight, but he pushes away the uncomfortable weight in favor of his own research.

both in and outside the akademiya, people have put him atop their pedestal and declare him a genius above the rest, begging for his appearances like a trophy on display. but when he stumbles through the door of your shared hut with stray sticks in his hair and dirt on his clothes, falling into you exhausted beyond what you can only imagine, he is just tighnari — nothing more and nothing less.

he won't get attached, he swears to his heart that if it isn't related to his focus on the forest that he will not get involved. but your studies have surprisingly brought a new light into lessening the effects of the withering, and you aren't totally incapable at holding your own ( unlike those incompetent traveling merchants ), and collei seems to be in a brighter mood now that you're around.

tighnari's mind is like a puzzle, always connecting new pieces, picking apart every detail the world has to offer and never stopping the trajectory of his research for even a second.

but you find your way into his heart like a seedling deeply rooted into the soil, his feelings grow with time and with no time at all. through quiet research or conversations the span hours on end, tighnari makes no attempt to pull you out of his life — and you settle into the garden of his chest. tighnari watches through the doorway your figure slumped over and asleep on your desk, papers scattered across the wooden table and pen rolling away from your fingers, and he thinks maybe you aren't so bad to be around.

something sweet i did way long ago … iykyk

[miyosei]

TO YOU, MY WORLD.

premise. i assign them a oneus song based on what it’s like when they love you — ft. clorinde, lyney, navia, neuvillette

reader is gn, lowercase, written before the release of clorinde / navia / neuvillette, you don’t need to know oneus to understand ( but if you do please be my friend )

CLORINDE. champion duelist

you and i are in different conditions, it’s tiring approaching you cold — fragile

it’s almost frustrating—how incompatible you are, how suffocating the atmosphere is when she’s in the same room as you, how stiff the conversations feel when you force yourself to be cordial.

not to the fault of her, or even you for that matter. you are just so inexplicably difficult to grasp, like a sword just out of her reach and so close to the tips of her fingers.

but clorinde is an unstoppable force and is stubborn to a fault. and you are a cannon made of glass.

or maybe, you are the moon, pulling her in during the high tides and letting go once the sun begins to rise. a secret kept behind closed doors only when there are no prying eyes—the people of fontaine are notoriously known for their love of gossip.

maybe the truth isn’t that you aren’t incompatible, just opposite forces that are too powerful for their own good. because when she isn’t trailing behind your respective god or walking beside the chief justice, you find that clorinde the person and clorinde the champion duelist are rather different from each other. and much to your chagrin, just clorinde is regrettably more pleasant than you’ve led yourself to believe.

clorinde cannot afford to be emotional. it is nonnegotiable, a fundamental pillar that comes with her occupation—the one she swore her life to until her final breath.

still, she can’t help but want to be closer to you. stealing glances every so often during court trials, lingering near your home for just a second too long when she passes by on her patrols, stopping her hands from reaching out to you during the rare instances where you happen to cross paths.

clorinde has fought many battles and has come out of that same arena unscathed without a single imperfection on her skin. but when you stand before her face to face glaring daggers into her head with eyes that have long since put her in her grave, clorinde thinks this is one fight she does not know how to win.

LYNEY. spectacle of phantasmagoria

the long awaited curtains finally open, and the lights shine only on you — stand by

for lyney, it comes as easily as setting a stage. and luckily for him, he has had years of experience of entertainment to last him the next lifetime.

adjust the lights, load the sparklers, make sure all the props are perfectly prepared—because it has to be perfect, or it is not worth calling a show at all.

it has to be perfect because you’re sitting there in the center of his world, and he cannot handle the thought of disappointing you when your eyes twinkle and you have a smile that makes his heart flutter out of his chest. truly, he thinks you’ve been the one charming him and not the other way around.

and it’s your seat, nobody else’s. he’ll throw a fit if anyone else gets assigned that spot in the opera, lynette has seen it turn out so one too many times.

when did he become so lovesick, lyney tries to pinpoint where it started. it’s difficult to gauge, because even in his deepest memories, you were always there. in every corner of his heart, in all the gaps of his fingers. it all reminds him of you. the street performers sing choirs of love that make his heart melt, trinkets on display he wonder if you would like, desserts through the windows that he would love to try with you.

( correction: desserts that lyney would love to see you try. not because he particularly dislikes sweets, but because he fears his heart may just go into overdrive if exposed to both the melting flavors and your hypnotizing light. )

“how horrible, i’ve been ruined!” he falls dramatically into the cushions of his bed, face first into the pillows as lynette sits idly beside him with a cup of tea. the extravagant display is only two stops short of the truth. one that lyney is reluctant to accept for a number of regrettably selfish reasons.

the first: he buried the dull and boring pieces of himself and locked them away for no one else to see in favor of his charismatic prestige. it would not come so easily to let that go.

the second, and the more daunting: if he suddenly peeled back the facade, would you still love him? would you think him undesirable and remove yourself from his life? no, that would be just awful, he can’t have that happen.

of course, you’ve never had any explicit expectations for him. and of course, lyney doesn’t know if you love him. but he, as every other lovesick loser, truly hopes you do. because he isn’t sure if he can keep denying himself any longer.

but alas, he’s out of time—the stage lights flash and the curtains are drawn open. and lyney, of course, enters with the same dramatic flair. his eyes instantly find yours in the crowd. you’re in your spot, like you always are. your smile makes his chest pound, like it always does.

oh, he can only hope for you to stay once the show ends.

NAVIA. demoiselle of the spina di rosula

it’s like i’m crooked in front of you, my head is spinning round and round — zigzag

the world is moving so quickly, and navia can’t seem to see even two steps in front of her. the last she remembered, you were in front of her with a devilish grin. when she blinked, you were out of sight like she was never speaking to you in the first place.

oh, this is so embarrasing. spina di rosula’s big boss caught in a lovestruck daze, all because of an outsider with a pretty smile. melus asks if she’s feeling unwell when her faces runs red—to which navia only responds with a slam to the door of her private headquarters.

it’s all so black and white when it comes to you, like tunnel vision focusing only on the destination. as if you were the one thing she was looking for this entire time.

would you like this dress? or perhaps a matching suit would be better? would it be too over the top to get custom made matching outfits?

“demoiselle, it’s just a small banquet.”

navia almost has the nerve to look shocked. just a small banquet? impossible, nothing is small when it comes to you. everything has to be perfect. because you’re the greatest partner she’s ever had, her closest companion, her number one. of course it has to be perfect. how ridiculous people must be to think it otherwise.

regardless, it’s no secret to anyone that the two of you are most comfortable around each other. behind the flamboyant mask and an outfit with far too many buttons, your laughter rings through the open air and reaches her like a gust of wind—brushing past her hair and leaving her paused and dizzy.

this is absurd, is she tipsy? no—no, she is most definitely sober. sober and flustered and definitely staring far too obviously for her liking. but, if that sparkle in your eyes was any indication, then you didn’t seem to mind it much at all.

NEUVILLETTE. ordainer of inexorable judgement

i was always there just out of your orbit, if only i could tell you i love you — halley’s comet

‘when it rains in fontaine, the hydro dragon is in mourn.’

common knowledge to the people who hailed from the land of justice. and if that is to be treated as fact, then the emotional equivalent of the unforgiving weather must be grief.

but nothing has gone wrong in neuvillette’s life to warrant such a visceral reaction. surely, something is different, but each knob belongs to a door that does not open. an unusual—if not cruel—predicament.

the first time he saw you, it was raining. back then, you didn’t have any coverage and instead stood soaked down to the laces of your boots. what were you thinking about, he wonders. what are you thinking about now, where are you now?

in the moment, he thought you strange for standing out in the worst storm of the season. now, he likens that scene to a better time—cast in the shadow of your light when you turn with a bright grin and ask just what ‘monsieur neuvillette’ is doing out in the pouring rain.

he blinked, almost caught off guard. shouldn’t he be the one asking you that? there is no one else out in the city besides the two of you. any well-minded fontainian would know better than to frolic in the puddles and kick up water in the streets.

but neuvillette, while he does not know why, knows that you are a flame that cannot be doused.

you, always just out of reach from his fingertips when he opens himself with outstretched hands and eyes that don’t quite match his face. you, a searing comet that cuts through the sky without a second to spare, a trail of stardust left in your wake.

and if you were willing to wait for him, just this once. he would come to you open armed with his vulnerability exposed.

don’t talk to me about how lyney’s is so much longer than everyone else’s … i don’t know what happened also if you see me come back to this post to add the images don’t pay it any mind zzzz

[miyosei]

GODS DO NOT LONG FOR LIQUID GOLD.

premise. he will bring you the universe. all you need, is to ask ( a quiet moment in your embrace ) — ft. wanderer

gn reader implied nonhuman, timeline is a little weird… basically during the sumeru storyline, lowercase

the sea between sumeru and inazuma extends seven thousand kilometers further than the largest mountain in liyue. the sun rises over the horizon in the lavish city, bathing the marbled walls in its golden warmth and casting a shadow onto the hidden corners of the world. his eyes are the first to open, and yours are the last to close.

and if the universe would allow it, he would cradle the globe in his arms until it was the size of a glass marble—quietly kept under the promise of a kiss and held carefully in the palm of your hand, dancing delicately between your thumb and index finger and held tightly near your beating chest. a gift for you and only you, the first, and only one, to embrace him in his raw vulnerability.

sleep has never been a necessity, but in the quiet moments of slumber’s final solitude, you’re there—waiting for him in the same light in which he’d left.

you greet him with extended arms, and it's like he is meeting you for the first time all over again—stumbling over his words and tripping on his feet like a fool on the run. draped in pearly silks and a golden pendant that held more weight than the world itself, hushed voices and gentle laughter and eyes that could still sparkle with all the love and innocence he still had to offer. here, he takes your hands in his own and is more than willing to be scorched by your light.

it is what used to be a home shared for two, just on the outskirts of a wavering village. the garden is beginning to bloom. he knows this because you send him a letter at the end of every month—you promised.

to you, it is a journal entry of your collective thoughts. to him, it is the only promise he has ever known to have been kept.

his hands are cold when you return his touch, they always have been—something that he never used to think about until you brought it up one day, until he felt how warm yours were in comparison.

“do you know the distance between the moon and the sun?” you muse absentmindedly and play with his fingers. he raises a brow, and answers no.

when he learns that it’s three hundred and eighty four thousand kilometers, being across the sea doesn’t seem so far away. and your rare instances of meeting like this are likened to a solar eclipse. if not now, then never.

now, he is the moon. scooping up light that is not his own and cramming it into the cracks between his ribs, eating your brightness whole. he has survived this far on a staple diet of fear, leeching off each knock that falls against his door and commanding those beneath him to bend over at his will.

the moon is a thief and a liar. no wonder he would be the one to fulfill that role.

but ‘i love you,’ still slips from your tongue in the form of a whisper, dancing through the air and following the evening songbirds. the words settle in the silent atmosphere, and for a moment that lasts shorter than your next breath, scaramouche freezes.

he goes quiet, holding his thoughts for the first time since he can remember. and you can tell, from the way his eyes search yours with an expression that edges a little too close to sadness, there is a part of him that doesn't quite believe you.

a hand hesitantly reaches to grab at the fabric surrounding his chest, almost hoping to feel what should have been the erratic beating of his unstable heart — but, as usual, he finds nothing.

“why?” he asks in a clumsy blunder and as the first thing he can force out of his drying throat. his expression twists into one of disbelief, sorrow, and the quietest shine of hope, and he searches your own for any sign of doubt or insincerity.

you’ve only said three words, but it’s enough to make his world shift at its axes. he tells himself that you don’t mean it. that this is only a projection of his innermost feelings. that there is no way someone like you could ever feel anything but hatred and disgust for something like him.

still, there is a part of him wants to believe.

“say it again,” he pleads, his voice cracking at the edges. his chest aches and expands with the gust of wind. “please, say that again.”

the titles of a broken character are left in his wake. in one moment he was hooked up to a robotic mechanism—held together by wires attached to his joints and extracted knowledge that were injected into the veins he never quite had. in the next he stood before divine knowledge with an empty heart.

‘it will be better this way,’ he thinks to himself. for everyone, for you. a lifetime of forever in a world without him to dirty your light. a lifetime that you deserved.

this time, no one will get in his way, he will make sure of it.

he only hopes, that should you ever meet again, it will be in a better time.

[miyosei]

LOVE IS A CHORE !

premise. a step by step guide on how ( not ) to fall in love with your best friend. — ft. xiao

reader is gender neutral, modern (?) au, everyone is in university here, mentions of throwing up but it doesn’t actually happen, xiao is a musician but it isn’t a major plot point i was just inspired by the newest promo video.

one. realize you are in much deeper than you thought.

The first time Xiao felt the switch flip inside of him, the cherry blossoms were starting to bloom on the first day of spring.

It was the last day of the seasonal fair—and you had invited him out to enjoy the evening together. Because your friend had bailed on you and you didn’t want the spare ticket to go to waste. Of course he agreed, what reason did he have not to?

And when he shows up ten minutes late with flushed cheeks and tousled hair and more apologies than he's ever said in his entire life—you laugh it off, assure him it's okay, and jokingly let him know that he still had the rest of the evening to make it up to you.

Xiao takes your words extremely seriously, and as nervous and paranoid and cracked out of his mind he is—he is determined to make it a night the both of you remember. And as always, he keeps his word. You aren’t sure of the last time you had this much fun.

When it’s time for the fireworks to start, he finds himself looking only at you—because you insisted that this is where you get the best view. ‘How cliche,’ he thinks to himself when you drag him to the attraction. But he makes no move to sway you otherwise, and you soon find yourself suspended in the air, sitting right beside him in the ferris wheel's carriage.

You look so nice like this. Well, you always look nice, but this time it’s different. This time it’s just you and him and the muffled sounds of the fireworks booming in the distance. And Xiao thinks that if every day could be like this, with just you and him, maybe that kind of life wouldn’t be so bad.

The realization strikes him like a bolt of lightning. That this is a problem. That he’s really screwed now. That ones Hu Tao finds the cheesy photos the two of you took at the photo booth it is absolutely over for him.

But, Xiao has never given up before. So, in theory, he should be fine… Right?

two. accidentally confess your feelings thinking you’re alone, run away when it turns out you aren’t.

The answer is no; Xiao is not fine. He has spent way too many sleepless nights cursing himself and trying to get you out of his head. It is so easy to not catch feelings for your best friend, how could he have messed up this bad? Xiao thinks it’s stupid, idiotic, and so not like him. It’s just some stupid crush, it’ll go away—it has to go away. Because it’s interfering with his every day life, and Hu Tao will not leave him alone.

The time is noon, this was supposed to be a joint study session between him, Hu Tao, Kazuha, and you. But this time you were the one running late, Kazuha is off in his own world, and Hu Tao decided that instead of actually studying, she wanted to spend her time trying to get a certain phrase out of Xiao’s mouth. One that definitely wasn’t even true.

“Are you done?” he finally speaks and looks at her from across the table with an unamused expression. “Why are you so adamant on this anyway?”

She rolls her eyes and lifts up a finger directly up to his face, “Because you are so obviously in denial! By the way, everyone already knows you like each other. The only two people dumb enough to not realize it are you two.”

Denial is a strong word. And quite honestly, Xiao thinks he could get pretty comfortable with it.

But the corners of his eye twitch ever so slightly, his grip on the pen tightens in his hold, and those two smug grins are almost enough to send him right into a coma—even if he doesn’t physically show it.

“Right… So then what if I do?” He chooses his words carefully, like he’s only entertaining the thought. Like he doesn’t actually have these feelings for you. Because that’s ridiculous, and he would never fall in love.

“You do,” Hu Tao corrects him without missing a beat, and Xiao finally gives up.

“Okay, fine. I do. Now what?”

The grin on her face spells nothing but trouble, and the regret that settles upon seeing it is enough to last Xiao a lifetime and more of embarrassment and shame.

Hu Tao echos your name, something that irritates Xiao more than it should have because yes, obviously it was you. Who else would it be, they were quite literally just talking about this? Unfortunately for him, Hu Tao finds nothing but joy in playing tricks like these—especially if it got a reaction.

“Hmm…. I don’t know, the only thing left to do is start dating and get married!”

Xiao almosts bursts at that sentence alone, his face exploding into the brightest shade of red anyone has ever seen. “Are you crazy?!” he stares at her in a flustered fury, “Don’t even joke about something like that, I’m not going to marry—”

His voice calls flat when he spots you out of the corner of his vision. You’re standing in the doorway, shocked with the most deer in the headlights look carried onto your face. Anything Xiao wants to say finds itself caught in his throat, and he decides to do something he hasn't done for years to come—he bolts for the door and rushes himself right out of the library.

three. try to go back to the way things were, curse yourself when it’s not that easy.

Three days have passed since that incident, and to say things were awkward would be a horrible understatement. Xiao, against his own will, had completely forgotten how to talk to you.

He called you later that night to apologize. That Hu Tao was just trying to rile him up, that he was sorry if you were uncomfortable at all, that you could just forget that entire thing had even happened in the first place. Anything to save both him and you the embarrassment.

You tell him it's alright—you always do. And you invite him to hang out at the nearby arcade, to make things up and to hopefully ease the heavy tension.

It doesn't work. because the moment he sees you he feels like running all over again. Xiao doesn't know if you feel it too, but the awkwardness that lingers in the air is so thick he feels like coughing up the springs in his chest. But he pushes through the discomfort—he promised a fun afternoon, and he doesn't break promises.

And he tries to avoid the subject of his “confession” by any and all means possible. It’s easier than it turns out to be, because Xiao is too busy dragging you around to even think about anything else.

There’s a monotonous buzz in his ear, something he dismisses as a byproduct of being around all of the beeping machines and blasting music. He can hear you call out to him, something out of concern he can only assume—everything is a blur, but Xiao promises he just needs to sit down for only a little bit.

When did he become so scatterbrained? It was never this bad before, he was never nervous around you before. You’ve known each other since elementary school, you were neighbors for even longer than he can remember, he’s slept in the bed of your childhood bedroom. So what changed? What happened to him?

No, nothing happened to you. It was definitely him, something was deeply and fundamentally wrong with him. Because you’re so close, and your hand is on his back because he keeps coughing up a storm, and the scent of your perfume is so sweet that it makes him want to throw up.

Xiao goes home with a high fever and guilty apologies. What was supposed to be a fun day out turned into you walking him back to his dorm room. You promise him it’s okay, and that you only want him to feel better soon. And Xiao, despite wanting to say so much more, says nothing.

He wakes up in a cold sweat later that night, smothered in bed sheets and in the same boring-walled dorm room.

Really, Xiao doesn't think he can keep up this act for very much longer.

four. know that love means being vulnerable, but not weak.

Ganyu almost drops the vase in her hands when Xiao gives her the run down. They were moving things from the concert hall when she’d noticed he was out of it, more so than usual. And against her better judgement, the ever so kind Ganyu prodded him with a stick and jumped back when he actually took the bait.

“And you just… Ran away?” She repeats, wide eyes in disbelief like he had just told her something blasphemous. When Xiao only confirms everything with a bored shrug she almost wants to pull her own hair out. Of course, she was more understanding than most other people, but even Ganyu had her limits. How could he treat this situation so casually? Like he wasn’t ruining his chances with you at this very moment? Like he wasn’t going to cause everyone in his inner circle to start aging prematurely?

Xiao doesn't even deny it and admits to everything with a straight face—that he did run away after indirectly confessing to you, that he’s been trying to avoid you in hopes that these feelings would finally die down, that it’s not working in the slightest and now he only misses you even more than he already did.

Truly, you’re the only one that knows. That underneath his blank eyes and bored expression, Xiao is just as afraid of his own feelings as anybody else. And he could never hate you for simply being you. But you know things about him that he doesn’t even know about himself—and that’s more than terrifying to think about.

He’s spent so long building his character and making sure he’ll never been used again. But you come in with that stupid smile and your dumb sparkly eyes and Xiao feels himself grow weak in the knees and heavy in his chest.

“Would you be okay with that? Dating, I mean.” Ganyu asks after a silence that lasts a little bit too long.

Xiao doesn't say anything. Would he be okay with it? Of course he would. Because you don’t flush at the thought of holding your best friend’s hand, you don’t think about what it would be like to date them, and you definitely don’t dream about kissing them under the moonlight.

And Xiao thinks to himself, that if you were willing to have him, he’d be more than okay with it.

five. confess your feelings — for real this time.

It’s raining, one of the harshest days of the season, and Xiao has caught the weather on a horrible day. He hadn't even bothered to bring an umbrella, soaked through his jacket and pounding his shoes against the slippery pavement in a rush to get to the library, where he was supposed to be 10 minutes ago in a last minute project group work.

He stops only when a shop door opens suddenly and skids to a halt just in time to avoid running straight into you. He stiffens ever so slightly when your eyes meet and you immediately shift to avoid contact, a small part of his heart squeezes in his ribcage. But Xiao’s throat is tight and dry, and any words caught in his chest are unable to come out.

Of course it would be awkward, he's been avoiding you for his own selfishness after all. And at this point, Xiao wouldn't even blame you if you began to resent him even just a little bit. But instead, you silently lean the umbrella over his head and give him a gentle smile. The same one as always.

“Come on,” you tell him, “I’ll walk you to wherever you need to go.”

He lets you, not even daring to argue back. There’s a lot of things he needs to say before his nerves finally kick in and he chickens out. But his hands are sweaty in his pockets and he can feel his chest on the verge of exploding by the second.

What are you thinking about right now, he wonders—stealing glances at you every so often when you aren’t looking. He just has to say it, just has to force the words out of his throat, but no matter how hard he tries, he just can't do it. And the two of you arrive at the library before Xiao can even blink, and he curses himself for being such a coward in such a crucial moment. Of course it would turn out this way, how humiliating.

“Well, we’re here.” You say with a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes, something close to regret flutters in your irises. “It was nice, seeing you again. I don't know if you have something going on, but you've been acting weird lately, I guess I missed you a little bit. But if you ever—”

“I like you!”

Xiao blurts out the words without thinking of anything else, exploding them out into the world like confetti on new year's day. His cheeks are flushed, he’s still soaking wet. It’s messy, disorganized, and it’s not even close to the perfect scenario he crafted in his daydreams. But It’s so perfectly him that you just can’t say anything else.

“I like you a lot. I always have. and I think I was so scared that you would hate me; or you would think I’m weird, or that you didn't like me back. And when you walked in that day I was so panicked I didn't—”

He stops talking only when he finally takes note of the tears that build up in your eyes. He blinks once, twice, a third time—then, the reality sinks in and his mind goes into overdrive. In one moment you were standing in front of him, and in the next he met you with a tight embrace, not caring that he was getting your own clothes absolutely drenched.

“I’m sorry,” Xiao whispers quietly when your hands tighten around the sleeves of his jacket.

“Shut up,” you grumble through muffled words and your umbrella fallen beside you on the pavement. For once, you’re thankful that the rain is able to hide your tears—or make them less obvious at the very least, “I’m mad at you right now.”

You aren’t, he knows you aren’t. But really, Xiao thinks he just might've just deserved that one.

six. remember that nothing necessarily has to change at all.

Two weeks have passed since his clumsy confession, two weeks since he’s “officially” become your boyfriend. In quotations, because it feels like it’s always been this way with you. You still watch cheesy romcoms every Saturday, you still support him whenever he has a performance due, Xiao still clings to you in your sleep like he’s done ever since the two of you entered high school.

The only difference now is that he can hold your hand whenever he wants to, and you don’t feel weird about coming around just to hug him from behind anymore. And while he still gets butterflies every time he even thinks about it, it’s more socially acceptable for him to kiss you when he feels like it.

And most times they don't even feel like dates, but now he gets the special 'couples only discount,' at the local cafe, and Hu Tao’s annoying kissy faces become more of a tease than a taunt, and Kazuha is, well, Kazuha.

It’s messy, it’s unorthodox, and it’s a long way from being perfect. But it’s with you, and for Xiao, that’s already more than enough.

[miyosei]

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