#al haitham x nilou

[evilrgood]

She deserves all love

[stcrfeesh]

a dance and a bouquet of padisarahs

No warnings apply; Safe for work.

Al Haitham x Nilou

Is it appropriate to gift someone a bouquet of their favourite flower as a way to say thank you?

In truth, Al Haitham didn’t really know why he was here. Actually, no. That wasn’t it. Rather, he doesn’t even know what has gotten into him, because for the first time, in all the years he’s been alive, he did not know what he was doing—let alone why he was doing it.

As he silently questions his own actions, he deduces that he could not blame Nilou for staring wide-eyed at him, completely dumbfounded by what he had just said—or asked. Even he, himself, was dumbfounded.

“You… You want me to teach you how to dance?” Nilou asks again, tilting her head to the side. “Uhm, are you sure?”

Was he sure? He certainly was not. Did he want to learn how to dance? Not really. He doesn’t even know why one moment Nilou had been conversing with him about something mundane—he didn’t really mean to, but whatever she had said earlier had already flown over his head—and the next, he had blurted out that he wanted to learn how to dance.

He may not see it now, but he knew somewhere, in a far corner of Sumeru (most probably their shared place), Kaveh was already laughing his ass off at whatever was happening to him—whatever this was supposed to be.

In an attempt to play it cool, he nods his head in reply, confirming. Thus, further and willingly was he dragging himself into something he wasn’t even entirely keen about. To make things much worse on his part, he says, “Yes. I find dancing intriguing, I do not see the harm in learning.”

It was as if he had no control over whatever was coming out of his mouth. This was horrible, and he doesn’t know how to fix it.

When Nilou smiled brightly at him, there was this small voice in the back of his head that said maybe, he didn’t regret all his life choices—though, that didn’t really matter. All he wanted to do now was walk away and perhaps never show her his face ever again.

“I’d love to teach you if that’s what you want.” He could practically feel the joy radiate from Nilou. “Just let me know when you’re free. I know it often gets busy at the Akademiya…”

“Thank you,” He tells her curtly—as if it would take him back to before this whole ordeal even started. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

He wasn’t seeing her tomorrow! What in Teyvat has gotten into him?

“Huh?” There was that look of shock on her face again, and Al Haitham couldn’t help but think Nilou looked… nice. Perhaps, decent, and much more tolerable than most. “O-Oh! Sorry. Okay… okay! Let’s meet outside Puspa Cafe, same time tomorrow?”

“That works for me,” Why would you say that?

“I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“Okay.” Was all he said, and then she waved him goodbye.

Dear Archons.

He stands still, unmoving from his place, staring at her as she makes her way towards the Grand Bazaar. As he observes her, he couldn’t help but wonder: Has her hair always been as red as the sweetest Zaytun Peaches?

The sun starts to set, emitting a warm glow, painting Sumeru City in a beautiful shade of gold. He furrows his brows, suddenly realising it was time for him to head back home. As he leaves, he grumbles under his breath. This was all Kaveh’s fault. Had it not been for his constant babbling about Sumeru’s beloved star dancer, the thought of dancing would have never piqued his interest.

   Sometimes, Al Haitham asks himself why he ever allowed himself to decide to take Kaveh in. It’s not that he hated his now-housemate, and yes, it was the right thing to do, what with the architect going bankrupt, but sometimes, the question lingers in his mind. Like now, for example.

His hypothesis—or a simple guess, rather, from earlier was right. Kaveh would be laughing his ass off if he ever knew about his conversation with the dancer; but instead of Kaveh doing it somewhere in a far corner of Sumeru, the man was laughing right at his face.

At that moment, Al Haitham concludes that he never should have told his housemate about it. Granted, telling Kaveh about anything important will never be the wisest decision—It never should be an option in the first place, He thinks—as more often than not, it backfires. But, alas.

In his defence, though, all he wanted to say was that he might be home hours later than usual. But then, one follow-up question turned into two, then into a whopping twenty, and the next thing he knew, Kaveh—this doesn’t happen usually, he swears—has gotten him to spill all the beans.

Which brought him to his current situation. A laughing Kaveh, whom he was very very close to kicking out.

“Just like that?” Kaveh asks, still laughing, much to his great dismay. “You asked Miss Nilou to teach you how to dance…? What even for, Al Haitham?”

I don't know, okay?! Was what he wanted to say—the only rational, albeit seemingly irrational thing he could think of; but no, that won't do. He did not need a laughing Kaveh worse than the one standing before him now, and he most certainly did not need a Kaveh who'd remind him of this situation every other five minutes for the rest of his life. Or at least, for the rest of his life while sharing a place with the (self-)renowned architect. He was bound to move out someday, anyway.

"It’s simple,” Al Haitham starts, making sure he sounded as confident as possible. “As a scholar—something I hope you are still familiar with because Archons knows what you’ve been up to recently—” Yes, his usual jesting would surely make the other buy his next lie.

“Huh? What are you talking about? I’ve been trying to get funding approved, that’s what I’ve been up to!” Kaveh interjects—bingo. “Come on, you, as the scribe should know that.”

“Will you let me continue now?” He raises a brow, and Kaveh, finally, finally shuts his mouth. “As I was saying, as a scholar, life-long learning does not stop with mere academics alone. Learning extends to the arts—what I meant to say is, I find dancing intriguing enough to allot time for it.”

“Hah?” Kaveh asks again, likely still confused.

Al Haitham did not have the time, nor did he have the answers to his housemate’s questions. An act of desperation, “This is none of your business anyway, why do you keep bothering me with questions?”

Though, it seemed like not even desperation could save him as a shit-eating grin appeared on Kaveh’s face—which was growing more and more irritating to Al Haitham as they spoke.

“Ohh. Ohh…” Kaveh says in a sing-song manner. “I get it now.”

“What?”

“I am no expert in this field, my friend,” Kaveh starts, making his way towards him. He places a hand on his shoulder, and Al Haitham could see a glint dancing in the other’s eyes. What it was for, however, he did not know. “But, helping out a friend in need is a just thing to do!”

“I don’t need help with anything.” Al Haitham says. “What are you even going on about?”

Kaveh laughs, “Oh, you poor, poor, clueless man.” Now that was just an insult to him. “You, my friend, have found yourself a certain someone to be smitten with. In other words, you’re growing up—you’re falling in love!”

What in Teyvat was he talking about?

“Where did you even get that conclusion from?” If he had any valuable take-away to whatever insanity Kaveh was subjecting him to, it was that his housemate was a disgrace to the scientific method. “You sound incredibly stupid. Do you even hear yourself?”

Insane. This was insane.

“One, I am not stupid, I’m Kaveh.” Case in point. “And two, don’t think I’ve never noticed it. On all occasions where you’ve met with Miss Nilou—heck, on all occasions when you’ve seen Miss Nilou, you come home in such a good mood, and you’re all chipper. You’re never chipper!”

“You just don’t know me enough.”

Kaveh shushes him, “Three! Your new-found interest in Padisarahs, Miss Nilou’s favourite flower—”

Al Haitham cuts him off, “How do you know that?”

“She has many, many admirers if you would like to know. Some fans, others vying for her hand. How do you know?”

“She mentioned it to me in passing, once.”

“Okay… anyway, as I was saying, you don’t like flowers, man. Now, dancing lessons? From Miss Nilou herself, no less! Now, riddle me this, what do you think of Miss Nilou?”

“I’m not answering any more questions from you. Good night.”

“Not wanting to answer me only proves my point!”

Al Haitham knows he does not owe the architect an answer, or an explanation, but this time around, he needed to be right. “I find her admirable. There. Would you please drop this stupid idea of yours now? You don’t even have a proper hypothesis, let alone data to back such a claim.”

“Not every question should be answered in such a roundabout way. And, see! You don’t simply find anyone admirable.” Kaveh pushes on.

“I find you admirable, but that doesn’t mean I fancy you in that kind of way?”

“Of course you do, I am rather admirable.” His second conclusion for the night was that Kaveh had his head far up his ass. “But this is not about me. We’re talking about Miss Nilou. You’re Al Haitham, the stoic and cold Grand Scribe, someone hard to please, but finds himself weak at the knees for a lovely lady.” Kaveh laughs again, “I never thought I’d ever see this day.”

“If you don’t shut it, you won’t live long enough to see the sun shining tomorrow.”

Kaveh only nods, unafraid. “Good luck tomorrow. Remember to bring her flowers!” Then disappears into his room.

Al Haitham was not in love, or whatever it was that Kaveh had been insinuating since the night before (the morning after was even worse). No, he was definitely certain he was not. It was only polite to bring Nilou something to thank her for all the trouble he has caused thus far. Flowers were a good way to thank people, and gifting the woman flowers she was fond of would further illustrate his sincerity. That was everything there was to the bouquet of Padisarahs he was holding on to.

He stands in front of the cafe’s message board, reading the scribbles of little notes to pass the time as he waits for Nilou.

‘Even the owner predicted I’ll get into the Akademiya this year!’ One message read. Exams were ongoing, and scholar selections were very selective. Sumeru was the land of wisdom, its citizens were free to pursue knowledge, but the Akademiya has its own set of criteria. Though there was one exception years back, when a certain pyro wielder from a noble Liyuen family got in for her peculiar elemental attunement, that was an entirely different situation.

Al Haitham could only hope the best for whoever penned the note.

Below that, was another note in neat handwriting, ‘Hehe… Gata, hehehe…’ Weird. And below that was a reply from the store manager, ‘Gata seems to be really fond of you too, Miss Nilou.’ Oh. Gata… Al Haitham makes a mental note to look into that Gata fellow later.

“I’m so sorry I’m late!” A familiar voice calls out to him. He turns around to see Nilou, and his eyes dart towards the bouquet in his hands, and then back to her. The sooner he gives her this, the sooner they could start, and the sooner he could get this over with.

Of all things Al Halitham could start with, he begins with a simple “Hello.” It should suffice—he hopes it does.

“Hi,” She replies. He stares at her, she stares at him, and it goes on for a minute or probably two. A minute of awkward silence, if you will.

“I hope you haven’t been waiting too long,” Nilou says, flashing him a shy smile. “Something came up at the Bazaar, and I couldn’t just leave it be. I’m so sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” He replies. “I just got here anyway, so I haven’t been waiting long.” Liar. He’d been waiting for half an hour. He clears his throat, offering her the bouquet of Padisarahs. “Here, these are for you.”

“Oh, thank you.” She takes the bouquet from him, and the shy smile that was just on her face moments ago turns into a blindingly radiant one.

The afternoon sun was about to set, painting the city of Sumeru in glimmers of gold, and yet, in his mind, Nilou’s smile bested its beauty. Her smile was akin to that of the rising sun, the early morning rays kissing the land in new hope.

What was he even thinking?

“I did not know what would’ve been appropriate to give you as a token of gratitude.” He half-confesses. On one hand, it was true that he did not know what to give her, and on the other, he had been intending to give her Padisarahs the moment they began to bloom. “You’ve agreed to teach me on such short notice, and I am grateful for that.”

“You really didn’t have to!” She says, bringing the bouquet close to sniff every once in a while. “These are hard to find outside of Pardis Dhyai… it must have been troublesome for you to get these… Being able to teach people how to dance is enough of a thank you. So really, you didn’t have to go through all the trouble.”

I’ve been cultivating them myself, he wanted to say but decided against it. “So… should we begin lessons?”

“Sure!”

In the span of a day and a half, Al Haitham has lied more times than he could count on two hands. Well, it wasn’t a lie so bad he’d put his own reputation and integrity as a scholar in jeopardy. Just… white lies, to escape further embarrassment. He lied when Nilou asked him what enticed him to learn how to dance. His new reasoning was far from the one he had used on Kaveh. This time around, it was because he was bound for Mondstadt. It would’ve been embarrassing if he, as a scholar, was not familiar with the Nation’s waltz.

He lied again, when he said he has never seen the dance live. He has, on multiple occasions. Then, he lies again, when she holds his hand and he stiffens. He felt abashed by the sudden touch, but he told her he was just naturally stiff.

She giggles at him, and he wonders if lying was worth it after all.

“Relax,” She tells him. Believe him, he was trying his best. “Mondstadt’s waltz is like the nation’s element. Freely flowing like the cool breeze of the wind.”

Al Haitham was far from gentle. At least, when ancient relics and texts were out of the question, he was far from gentle. But, miraculously, as he takes her hand in his, and places the other on her waist, he was like a mother to a newborn. Slowly, but with certainty, he followed her lead, and as she had described it, flowed freely like the breeze.

“You’re a natural at this. Are you sure you aren’t a beginner at all?” She asks him, after a couple of rounds of box steps and spinning. He shakes his head no—another lie. He wasn’t a pro, per se, but decent enough to be more than a beginner. “I suppose you’ve got the basics, but I can still teach you if you want…”

He wouldn’t be needing any more lessons, but…

“If you’ll have me, then I see no reason to refuse.”

“Of course! I’d be glad to teach you more.” She pauses, and Al Haitham assumes she was probably choosing the right words to say—something he hadn’t been able to do since yesterday—then she smiles at him again, “It’s nice, being able to freely perform now… but I think, being able to share dances with someone else, I believe there’s more joy to that. So, as long as you’d want me to, I’d be happy to teach you.”

“I would like that.” He says, before realising what his words could entail, so he adds, “After all, being well-prepared is a must.”

She reminds him of a few more points—ones he was already aware of—and then offers to walk her home.

The sun had long set, and there was a moment of comfortable silence between them—completely juxtaposed to the awkward silence they had shared earlier. It was nice if he was being honest. Nighttime in Sumeru City has always been a sight to behold, but being able to share it with someone else… well, everything good becomes better tenfold.

A thought comes into his mind, and he looks at Nilou, “Miss Nilou?”

She hums in reply.

“Are you free tomorrow evening?” Once more, Al Haitham finds himself completely oblivious to the reasons for his actions.

“Would you like to continue lessons then?” She asks him.

“No, not lessons.” Al Haitham glances at the bouquet of Pardisarahs in her arms. “Actually, I would like to take you somewhere. I’d like to show you something.”

“Oh?”

“The Padisarahs I gifted you, those are ones I grew myself—with much assistance from Tighnari, of course.” Finally, a truth from the Grand Scribe. “I remember how you mentioned you were fond of them. Pardis Dhyai closes before the sun sets, and those flowers are much more breathtaking under the moonlight.”

“It’s a shame I never get to see them when they’re supposed to look the most beautiful,” Nilou says, a sad sigh that does not go unnoticed by Al Haitham, escaping her lips.

“Well, I think that will change soon…” He trails off, gauging her next reaction. She looks up at him expectantly, perhaps afraid to draw presumptuous conclusions. “I was able to borrow an old friend’s greenhouse for those Padisarahs… would you—of course, only if you want to—would you like to see them?”

“Would I not be intruding on your friend…? I mean, it’s their greenhouse after all.”

“Of course not.” He says, a little too quickly for his own liking. “He likes showing his greenhouse off. If anything, he’d be ecstatic to know that someone other than myself is able to see how grand his greenhouse is.”

“If you say so…” She starts, “I’d love to see the Padisarahs.”

“So, that’s a yes?” He asks again, and she replies with an enthusiastic nod. “Tomorrow… I’ll meet you at the Bazaar.”

“I promise not to take longer this time!”

“I’ll hold you to that.” He laughs. He laughs.

“Oh! This is me,” She says, coming to a stop, and nodding towards an apartment. “Thank you for walking me home, Al Haitham.”

“Don’t mention it.” Another pause, before he clears his throat. “Thank you again, for the dance lessons… Good night, Miss Nilou.”

“It was nothing… and, good night to you too.” She retreats into her own home, and Al Haitham is left to ponder on his own thoughts as he walks back home.

In truth, Al Haitham does not know what he was doing. Or feeling. Or what has gotten into him; because for the first time, in all the years he’s been alive, he has never felt the way he does now. It was like a push and a pull within him. It was warm and fuzzy in his chest, but he could feel his guts doing summersaults. It was odd, but at the same time, it was a feeling he did not hate.

He silently reflects on his own actions and comes to a conclusion. Perhaps, Kaveh had been right all along. Though, of course, he would never admit that. Kaveh would never let him live it down.

I might have a talent for pulling rare pairs out of my ass. They could like have 0.3 seconds of screentime, but if I see potential, you bet I'll be writing about them.

Anywho, this fic is crossposted from AO3, which you can find here.

Thank you for reading! And, if you like my writing, feel free to check out my on-going Xiaolumi spy series, off the precipice!

GENSHIN MASTERLIST  |  KO-FI SUPPORT

[sgrimp]

Scaramona/Wandermona and Cynilou

[starz222]

surprise! (pt. 2)

synopsis: planning nilou's birthday, your assigned baking partner, alhaitham, blurts out something unexpected. he finds out you're sweeter than the cake you both baked. contains: not proofread, literally rushed, sfw (implied nsfw at the end but i dont go into detail), a smidge suggestive, gender neutral reader, other characters, maybe ooc, mainly self indulgent. a/n: me desperately including cyno every chance i get (also him throwing shade at paimon) part 1 here !

Everyone received a handmade party hat from Paimon. The party hats had glitter on them and were made of cardboard. Streamers were attached to the pom-pom-topped portion of the cone. Everyone's pupils dilated when they set their eyes on them.

“Did the children make this?” Tighnari questioned, meaning no harm. “Hey! Paimon made that!” She huffed.

“It’s… something,” Alhaitham muttered. 

“I know, I know. Just put them on. In any case, it’s for Nilou,” Dehya sighed.

“Paimon can hear you, ya’know!?” She stomped her feet in the air. “Whatever, just go to your places!” she sulked. The Traveler had planned that they would all sneak up on Nilou and surprise her. They used the same partners for the arrangements: Traveler, Dehya and Paimon, Tighnari and Cyno, and You and Alhaitham.  A thought immediately appears in your mind — Oh great, the archons must hate me.

The lights turn off, and for a while, it’s an awkward silence. You and Alhaitham hid in a tight, cramped spot behind some boxes.

“Stop breathing so loud,” he whispered. “What do you want me to do? Stop breathing?” You elbowed him in the arm. “If that keeps you quiet, I’m not stopping you.” 

The audacity. He called you cute earlier; now he’s telling you to stop breathing?  Even from behind, you can still feel him towering over you. You wouldn't deny that you found him attractive; he checked nearly all the boxes for the qualities of your type, yet you just couldn’t raise his ego any higher. You thought he was cocky and proud enough.

[Name]’s so close. Alhaitham thinks to himself. His mind is cloudy and hazy; why does he always end up in situations like this? He couldn’t stand the absence of space between him and you. Of course, he ended up muttering things he didn’t even mean. When he first saw the spot you both were meant to hide in, he wanted to back out. He knew he would lose his mind in that small space with you. 

Then suddenly, the lights switched on. 

“Surprise!” They cheered, followed by Cyno’s deadpanned version— “Surprise.” 

You both completely forgot about the surprise. When the lights turned on, Alhaitham realized what you guys looked like and the position you both were in. He immediately took a step back. You ran to Nilou, and Alhaitham followed behind you. 

“This is amazing!” Nilou had stars in her eyes. “We’re glad you like it!” Paimon clears her throat, “Can Paimon—ehem, I mean, can we eat now?” Nilou nods, “Of course! You all worked so hard. Thank you!” 

As you all make your way to the table, Dehya unexpectedly comes your way. She wraps her arm around your shoulder and says, "Hey, [Name], what's up with you and that scribe? Are you two dating, or what? You’ve both been acting really weird.” You appreciate her concern, but her words leave you puzzled. “Dating”, why is it that your heart flutters? You wave her off, “I’m not sure either.”  

Everyone takes in the beauty of the feast, some, far too much. (Paimon’s drooling) “Traveler, can you control your pet?” Cyno hissed. “Hey! It’s not Paimon’s fault that the food looks sooo tasty!” She whined. "Let's save the arguing for later, now let's celebrate the birthday of our dearest friend, Nilou." Tighnari expressed. Nilou thanked him. "Let's sing happy birthday!" Paimon started clapping. Everyone had a look of uncertainty on their face, "If you all are uncomfortable with it, I don't mind." Nilou reassured the rest, to tell the truth, she didn't think that most of the people present would be willing to sing. "Nonsense, it's tradition." Dehya noted, of course she had two reasons. One — she wanted Nilou to be happy, and two — she wanted to make fun of Alhaitham and Cyno. 

(Cue them singing and clapping, which I won't write bc im laughing too much imagining it 🥹 CYNO ALHAITHAM AND TIGHNARI WOULD BE 100% MONOTONE AND THE WAY CYNO AND ALHAITHAMS VOICE WOULD STAND OUT)

You can hear Paimon's embarrassed chuckle as Nilou cheered insisting, "That was fantastic." Dunyarzad asks "Alhaitham, would you do the honor of slicing the cake?" As he is the closest to the cake. "Sure," He says. Alhaitham proceeded to cut the cake into pieces and placed one on your plate. “Thank you," you muttered. You took a bite, the sweet frosting coating your lips. While you were focused on the cake, he was focused on you—on your lips. He fantasized about using his thumb to wipe the frosting from your lips as he stared at them. He didn’t know what came over him, but he gave into his impulses.

He looked around, he saw that their nation's god, Nahida, arrived. The rest had gone to greet her— no one could disturb you two.

Before you could leave, he grabs your jaw and turns you to face him. You look at him with confusion; you were practically redder than the cherries on the cake. He glides his thumb across your lips, wiping the frosting off your lips, and licks it off his finger. “You’re sweeter than the cake, [Name].” He stares at you, the way your ears turn red, and the way you melt in your seat. “You– you could’ve told me I had frosting on my lips!” He was stunned. Were you going to ignore the fact that he just did... that? “Right.” He stood up. “I’ll get you some tissues.” 

 “Wait.” You grab his hand. “There’s still a lot of this cake left.”

…

Nilou turned around, "Huh? Where'd they go?"

tags: @fabrebre, @whipped-for-fictionals taglist is open !

[mishuleshi]

Nahida decided to get another cat, who could it be?

Well I thought about Candice, Nilou or Dehya.

But if it was boy I thought about Kaveh or Al haitham.

...

If it was Candice she could be reader's 'sister' figure.

If it was Dehya she could be 'aunt' or 'mom' figure to both of them. (It's worded weirdly)

If it was Nilou she could be rival to reader. You and her would fight over Scara.

If it was Kaveh he could be Scara's 'brother' figure.

If it was Al haitham he could be Scara's rival. Him and Scara would fight over you.

...

Maybe it's weird but it's just thoughts. If you don't like it it's okay.

[rnshkkk]

dancing

[euphuisticgrace]

I’ve been running polls on Twitter for the “ship bracket fight”. Soon there will be a democratically voted on ship.

[it-happened-one-fic]

His Dream That, As of Yet, Remained Undreamt - Al Haitham

Author Notes: Behold, an unplanned sequel fic that was written solely because I decide to listen to that slowed reverb edit of the Albanian Remix of "Habibi" by Ricky Rich posted on Youtube by Lunaries again while writing. Anyhow, this is the sequel to the first Al Haitham fic I ever wrote and which is linked below, but you can probably read this as a stand alone of sorts. Reader is gender neutral, but they are also a dancer. This takes place post Sumeru archon questline I hope you enjoy.

Part 1: A Dream Thus Far Undreamt

Type: Fluff/romance (implied with great interest from Alhaitham)/gender-neutral reader/post Sumeru archon questline

Word Count: 872

Sheer fabrics swirled through the air, a spiraling vision of blue and red interspersed with golden threads that made the two dancers seem like the greatest treasures that this land owned.

Sumeru had changed since Azar had been displaced, the archon restored, and Al Haitham had become the Acting Grand Sage. The arts were no longer frowned upon, and the bazaar, with all its exotic scents and rousing music, was almost constantly filled with students from the Akademiya.

They were like starved men. Partaking in artistry that delighted both their eyes and ears for the first time as they consumed every form of art as if this were their only chance.

The smell of spices filled the streets, and voices could be heard everywhere, forcing one to strain to hear the music that the two women danced to. Each a different form of beauty and elegance in the way they interpreted their music.

Nilou was, without a doubt, the fan favorite. Kaveh himself had begun composing shoddy poetry that poorly described her flaming red hair and the blue silks of her robes. 

Unaware of her word bereft fan, Nilou smiled widely as she looked towards her fellow dancer, who joined her on stage in deep red robes that swirled gracefully around their form.

You were the less popular of the two for reasons beyond Al Haitham. Perhaps it was because he, unlike Kaveh, was not nearly as rabid in his affections, nor did he struggle amongst the throng of students in a wild attempt to watch the performance. Instead, he watched as he ever did, from a distant and raised position on a restaurant’s balcony.

Al Haitham was no fool. He knew that no mere words could ever describe the way you moved, looked, and even spoke. 

While Nilou’s smiles were like the bright sun that lit up the daytime so that workers could see their crafts and people could go about their lives, you were different. 

You were more like the moon. Possessing a gentleness that was at odds with warm-hued clothes you wore.

Yours was a beauty that seemed more mysterious and enchanting to Al Haitham. Perhaps this was the true reason you did not possess the fame of your fellow dancer.

Nilou was more recognized, and people were comfortable with her charms. It was less otherworldly and inexplicable.

Your charm, on the other hand, was more of the spellbinding variety. Something that few possessed and Al Haitham doubted he would ever truly understand. 

And that was why he suffered through Kaveh reciting his poetry while he remained silent and observed, as he always did.

The heavens had not recognized you as they had Nilou for her art and embodiment of beauty, but Al Haitham did. 

Al Haitham did and would continue to do so for a lifetime, even as your performance ended. 

Both you and Nilou gracefully spun to a stop as your hands interlocked, and you both stopped. Chest to chest, with your smiling faces toward the crowd who cheered and showered you both with flowers.

You both waved. Nilou, with endearing shyness that seemed to make the crowd rave still more. You, holding back and staying slightly behind your fellow dancer. 

But then it happened, and you caught Al Haitham off guard as you looked up and made eye contact with him, a gentle smile crossing your face as your eyes met his.

A tiny wave followed by a graceful inclination of your head was all you gave before your attention was taken by Nilou, who grasped your hands and pulled you to the front of the stage alongside her. Obviously wanting you to receive the same praise she was showered with.

The Acting Grand Sage was silent as he continued to gaze down at the two of you. Stunned that he had not only been noticed, but that you had smiled in a way that spoke of recognition.

Apparently he wasn't the only one who remembered your meetings in Port Ormos long before he’d known anything about the state of Sumeru’s Archon. Brief meetings, each of them, but they had made him intrigued by the possibility of a little thing called fate.

Because meeting you hadn’t seemed like an accident. It had seemed more like the beginning of a long path that had slowly been winding its way through numerous brief and often startling moments of seeing you through a crowd up until this day.

Al Haitham sat back, a smile crossing his features as his vision tunneled until you were his sole focus. It seemed that he had been noticed by his dream, that as of yet, remained undreamt.

The crowd slowly began to disperse, waved off by some of Nilou’s friends, and you were briefly left on stage alone, your head tilting back so that you once more looked up. Your sparkling eyes met his two-toned gaze as a knowing smile crossed your face again.

And it was then that Al Haitham knew this unspoken design of his would not remain wordless. It was high time that he at last approached his dream, which stemmed from days when the people of Sumeru did not dream unless it was wished for by the gods themselves.

[basilistic]

had some fun drawing other characters interacting w Lucien

[liviavanrouge]

Mines

Not Yours

Livia: *Stares as Nilou pulled her away*

Nilou: *Smiles at her then points up* Look!

Livia: *Looks up, her eyes widening at the fireworks exploding in the air*

Nilou: *Looks at the fireworks then perks up feeling someone behind her*

Livia: *Leans down slightly, holding a rose* Here..

Nilou: Oh..thank you

But Mines

Livia: *Stares down at Nilou, her face red* N-Nilou

Nilou: *Frowns, keeping Livia caged in* You've been avoiding me..

Nilou: Why?

Livia: Nilou, I've been busy helping Cyno

Cuno: *Pops into view* Nope, try again

Livia: Tighnari

Tighnari: *Pops up behind Cyno, a hand on his hip* Girl, you lyin'

Livia: Kaveh and Al-

Kaveh: *Pops up next with Alhaitham* Hm, hm, hm, you lying...

Livia: Damn it...

Not Yours

Cecila: *Smiles, hugging Livia's arm* Come on, Livy!

Nilou: *Stares silently, Candace beside her*

Dehya: She does not give up, does she?

Candace: That's what I said

Livia: *Walks with Cecila, sighing in annoyance*

Nilou: *Looks away disappointed*

But Mines

Nilou: *Smiles. pulling Livia after her*

Nilou: *Steps into the water* Come on!

Livia: *Looks at the water distaste fully* Alright...

Livia: *Steps into the water, cringing at her soaked feet*

Nilo: *Smiles and pulls Livia closer, smiling up at her*

Livia: *Smiles slightly*

I'm sorry that you seem to be confused

Cecila: *Stares at Nilou with Livia* H-Haha..who's this?

Nilou: *Hugs Livia's arm, looking at Cecila*

Cecila: What-

Nilou: *Pulls Livia away* There's a place I wanna show you!

Livia: *Smiles amused, running after her* Alright, let's go...

Nilou: *Smiles up at her, Cecila watching them go*

She belongs to me

Nilou: *Perks up hearing an explosion* Huh?

Dehya: What the?

Livia: *Walks out of a lab, her eyes glowing dangerously, a polearm in her hand*

Nilou: Livy?

Cyno: Livia, Nilou gave them some of her hair for their experiment

Kaveh: There was no need for an explosion!

Livia: *Grumbles, glaring at the frightened people on the ground*

This girl is mine

Nilou: *Yawns and stretches* Livy..

Livia: *Appears in the middle of the room then walks over* Tired?

Nilou: *Nods and sits on the bed*

Livia: *Kneels down, taking her shoes off* Alrighty...

Nilou: Can we just sleep tonight

Livia: *Grabs her and lays down* That's all you had to say

Nilou: *Smiles and falls asleep, Livia's arms tightening around her*

@queen-of-twisted @writing-heiress @marrondrawsalot @abyssthing198 @zexal-club @yukii0nna @teddymochi @pekoetiikapu

[t00lazy]

I love the idea of a Seelie wearing a miniature version of Cyno's headpiece.

Cyno, Dehya, Al-Haitham, Nahida, Nilou, Tighnari / gender-neutral reader.

Synopsis: Of all things, you became a seelie when you got isekai’d into your favourite game, Genshin Impact. You decide to make them fall for whatever charms you have left in hopes of being taken in as a pet to survive.

— ( Inspired by the manhwa Of All Things, I Became A Crow. Requests relating to this AU will be ignored. )

Headcanons: [ 1 ] / [ 2 ] / [ 3 ]

Scenarios: [ 1 ]

#CYNO

Cyno finds you buried in the sand when he went to the desert, having been drawn towards your burial spot by your frantic squeaks. When you got isekicked to Teyvat, you had the worst luck of running into a group of eremites who decided to bully you, but fortunately, Cyno happened to be nearby after you were trapped in your sandy coffin.

He isn’t sure what type of creature you are and decides to bring you to the Akademiya once you were dugged out. He’s surprised when you wiggle free from his hands and float up to rest on the spot between the ears of his headpiece, but he doesn’t say anything since you weren’t being difficult. Just as he’s about to step inside the Akademiya, he’s quickly stopped by Aether who then tells him that you’re a rare seelie.

It doesn’t take very long for Cyno to warm up to you. He thinks that you’re rather cute (but would never say it out loud) and would sometimes poke your squishy body out of curiosity. There was a time when he disturbed your sleep with his incessant poking, which earned him a tiny slap on his index finger.

Seeing the General Mahamatra with a downgraded version of the Traveler’s flying companion is certainly a sight in Sumeru City. You’d follow him everywhere, even when he’s apprehending a scholar for plagiarism or other academic violations. You act like an extra pair of eyes for Cyno, which he is grateful for; if the scholar tries anything funny, you’d instantly alert him. You eventually became Cyno’s unofficial partner, and he’d feel a little lonely if you’re not around to listen to his god awful jokes.

Cyno initially didn’t know that you don’t need to eat and has tried to feed you dried fruits and nuts on occasion, only to get uno reversed every time. Taking the seedless date from his palm, you proceed to push the fruit against his lips to silently tell him to eat it. He hesitantly opens his mouth as you shove it in, and he couldn’t stop the minuscule smile from surfacing when you rub against his cheek with an adorable squeak.

Whenever he has a meeting with an official, he lets you fly off on your own, knowing that you’ll come searching for him once you’ve done enough exploration for the day. His only concern is you running into Al-Haitham; he’s an Akademiya lunatic and Cyno doesn’t trust him at all. He’s not sure if you understand him, but he would always remind you to avoid Al-Haitham.

Later on, Cyno orders a mini version of his headpiece for you to wear so that the two of you could match. You don’t miss his soft smile as he carefully puts it on you and calls you his seelie Mahamatra.

Keep reading

[evilrgood]

No,you can't touch him 🌱🪷

[otterneuvillette]

✧HIPS DON'T LIE ! ✧

⋆🌱— Pairings: alhaitham x fem! reader

⋆🌱 — Sypnosis: You are a well-known dancer in Sumeru City, a friend of Nilou's. You captivate people with your enchanting and slightly....sensual dances. You left the Akademiya due to discrimination bcs of family financial status.

⋆🌱 — content: fem! reader, slightly spicy. (you're a bad bitch lol), kinda OOC alhaitham lightly implied yandere tendencies, alhaitham losing his shit over you.

(might do a part two?? with smut or just a continuation..)

✧✧✧⁠✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

Many could say that Al Haitham was incredibly studious, or even a workaholic. Or that fact that he'd prefer studying over establishing connections or relationships during his student years in the Akademiya.

You were just another face in the crowd to him, someone that never really understood him, and even if you did try, he'd shoot down any chances when you approached him.

But, he paid the price dearly once you left the Akademiya, with the lack of your presence telling him that you were gone— you never knew that he enjoyed your company either.

Al Haitham, who was known as a man that only believes in hard truths and pure logic or scientific calculations and mathematics, had underestimated his desires that was buried within his heart, his need as a human being.

He was in love with you.

✧✧✧⁠✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

A sharp breath exited his body.

He was looking at you.

Al Haitham couldn't help but stare in awe. He took in every little movement, every miniature detail, every inch of your skin that was exposed by your costume and couldn't look away.

The world around him had seemed to come to a halt as you started dancing on the stage, catching his attention almost immediately as well as taking his breath away.

He never missed a show of yours, ever since he found out about your whereabouts after you left the Akademiya. He wasn't going to lie, he missed your persistent and bubbly personality, your beautiful eyes, your luscious hair and deep down, where he kept his unwanted desires hidden.

He missed looking at the shape of your body.

He couldn't lie anymore, he was still a man, much like every other men out there, who has a primal need for someone to satisfy his yearning. During the time the two of you were in the Akademiya, he never saw the need for a counterpart, a partner in life.

He couldn't understand why every other scholars his age has a need to find someone to share their fleeting youth with, to only part ways when they don't feel like it anymore.

Unnecessary, He thought, all these unneeded emotions and needs would only hold him back from his goals, but then he found you again, seen your performances and archons, oh how he wished he could take back those stupid thoughts he had back then.

He's falling from his high pedestal made from his beliefs and logic and embraced by the human desire that already consumed others.

✧✧✧⁠✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

You step onto the stage, your dance costume shimmering in the spotlight. The veil that was covering half of your face, the clinking of your waist ornaments and the rhythmic beats of the music fill the air, and you feel the energy pulsating throughout your chest to the tips of your fingers and toes.

As a renowned dancer, your movement is a language of your own and every step tells a story. The fluidity of your movements, and the gracefulness of your gestures, all come together to capture the audience. With each sway of your hips and extension of your arms, You feel your body become one with the music, letting the rhythm take control of your movements.

You were aware of his eyes watching you, and as you move with the music, Alhaitham was captivated by the power you hold as you bewitched the audience with the way you move. With every undulation and every turn, you capture his heart, and Alhaitham can't do nothing but watch in awe.

A small sweat drop appeared on his forehead. He had always liked watching your performance, but this was entirely on a different level. You seemed to shine a little more brightly today, was it the lighting? Or maybe how the stage light framed your figure perfectly tonight?

He got lost in your movements, captivated by your beauty and grace. The way you moved your body, the dance and gestures... archon's above, even how your hair moved with every movement, complementing it like a shadow. The way that you use your body to dance was like a siren using their voices to charm sailors, simply mesmerizing.

He could not describe it in words. The way you danced was like an amazing piece of art that would take an eternity to fully appreciate.

As you reached the climax of your performance. You twisted and turned, accentuating each and every part of your body into the dance, making sure you catch every audience member's attention, plus, to making sure Alhaitham's attention was on you and you alone in the process.

You noticed that he was there for every performance you've ever done, and this performance was a way to show your....appreciation.

As the music played, you were dancing perfectly to every beat and sound. The lights in the Zubayr Theater looked like the night sky, You felt yourself getting tired slightly but you kept pressing on.

Al Haitham could feel his face get warm. As your dance progressed and your movements got more confident, he was completely and utter captured. His eyes, locked onto yours as you danced, your hips swaying to the beat of the drums.. it was all so mesmerizing.

When the tempo picked up and your footsteps began to echo throughout the stage, he began to get dizzy. His breath was caught in his throat, all the attention and focus was towards you. The music itself seemed to be only your domain, and everyone watching was under your spell.

✧✧✧⁠✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

You were moving in a circular and Alhaitham swear that he could see your ass jiggle slightly.

You were blessed with a body with full curves and rounded thighs and waist, perfect for a dancer.

You were moving with such precise, and well practiced movement, twirling your wrist and the circling of your hips and waist. Your eyes wander around the room, and he wished that your eyes could stay only on him, but there are others that you must acknowledge in the room.

Alhaitham acquiesce. His heart is green with envy, blue with sorrow, and red with passion, all the colors of the rainbow pouring out onto the floor and forming a puddle of desire.

Al Haitham was completely entranced by the dance and you. Each gesture you made, how you swayed your hips and twirled your wrist...

He could've sworn at the way you walked, your hips swayed just a little more than necessary... as if you wanted to draw more attention to your curves and make the crowd even more attracted to you.

It had certainly worked on him.

Just as you looked around the room, Al Haitham managed to catch your gaze. He couldn't control his cheeks, they had turned a subtle pink.

You slowly moved lower, knees bent slightly, feet pressed to the wooden floor of the stage, raising the right side of your hips, lifting it upwards. While maintaining eye contact with Alhaitham as you move your hips from side to side at a fast pace.

He sees a silver of the floral tattoo on your hip and he felt his pants getting more uncomfortable by the second.

Al Haitham's mouth opened slightly and he felt himself breathe a little harder at the sight.

His heart was beating out of his chest as you moved your hips in a seductive manner as maintained eye contact with him. He felt so... exposed, as if you could see the lust in his eyes.

He just had to have you.

✧✧✧⁠✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

As the tempo picked up, your movements became more intricate, your arms and legs gracefully weaving in and out of each other. Your body seemed to be in a constant state of motion, flowing seamlessly from one movement to the next.

The audience was lost in the moment, their eyes fixed on you as you continued to perform. The sound of the cymbals filled the room, adding an extra layer of excitement to the already astonishing performance.

The tiny bells, chains, and charms on your ankles, wrist and waist jingled and sparkle in the lights of the stages.

Al Haitham felt his entire body trembling in excitement. The sound of the cymbals.. the twirl of your hips.. the movement of your arms, legs and even the jingling of the bells and charms on your wrists and ankles..

You were the main attraction. The main course.

No... you were the entire meal.

And he's planning to have you all to himself.

Al Haitham felt an urge he couldn't suppress. The way you moved, the way your eyes seemed to glisten slightly. It had taken every last ounce of his willpower to hold back from rushing the stage and take you in front of the crowd.

As you finished your performance, his breathing had become quite heavy and your figure was the only thing on his mind.

He was so lost in thought thinking of how you felt.. how sweet you would've tasted...

It's killing him to not be able to have you.

✧✧✧⁠✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

You panted. The long and intense performance took the breath out of you, but stamina is vital for a dancer so you weren't affected that much as you'd have thought.

You bowed towards the crowd that were throwing Sumeru Roses at the stage. You picked one up, smelled it and tucked it into your hair, it's vibrant purple was a stark contrast to your hair.

Al Haitham's eyes remained on you and he waited for you to notice him again.

As you picked up the Sumeru Rose and smelled it, then tucked it into your hair.. his eyes followed your every move with bated breath.

He noticed how your gaze lingered on him a second longer than necessary.

He was completely bewitched by you. The way your chest rises and falls, the way you bow, he sees a glimpse of your chest, which was quickly covered by the movement of your hair, much to his dismay.

And the way you tucked the Sumeru Rose in your hair. You looked so innocent to him...but he knows that you were anything but that and that little action alone made him want to just.. snatch you, claim you and never let you go.

He wouldn't let anyone have you, not after tonight. He'd kill anyone who would take you from him.

His previous thoughts and emotions quickly faded as reality returned. He was still sitting at his seat, he could feel his heart beating rapidly as he sat still. He couldn't help but stare at you with awe, the image still stuck in his mind. He felt himself smile as he watched you interact with the other audience members and your friends at the side of the stage.

Maybe next time he'll have the courage to come up to you and finally have the chance to talk to you.

But for now let him burn the image of you and your endless teasing during the performance in his mind.

So that he could imagine of fucking you senseless before he goes to sleep.

✧✧✧⁠✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

☆— FIN—⁠☆

[pexchys]

"your dirty little secret" Al-Haitham x gn!Reader

cw: semi-nsfw, a little angst, secret relationships, lowk toxic reader, drunk mentions, somewhat unrequited love

Al-Haitham walks past you, his boots clicking against the grand Akademiya halls

He barely notices you, his face as stoic as ever

But you know he's frustrated

You know he's dying on the inside.

You've been avoiding him like the plague, until it's three in the morning, drunk at the tavern, stumbling away from Nilou, Cyno and Tighnari, making your way to his home

Just like you did last night

When you knocked on the door, your face flushed and your eyes wide as Al-Haitham greeted you before you gently grabbed his face and brought him close to you

He paused before wrapping his strong arms around your waist, kicking the door closed as he pushed you against the wall, desperate as he kissed your lips, before moving down to your neck

You gasped, arching your back to give him more access as he continued to press kisses down to your collarbone, before he led you into his bedroom

"You're drunk," he muttered in between kisses and soft bites, laying you down on your back

You stayed quiet, choosing to run your fingers through his gray locks and nudging him closer to you, wrapping your legs around his hips

And when the morning came, he was still asleep with evidence all over his chest of what you did hours before

And when you wanted nothing more than to sit there and study his face, memorizing the arch of his nose and his quiet breathing pattern,

The way he so many times tried to spend a wholesome night with you,

You grabbed your clothes and left.

Gone.

Like every time.

He was falling in love with you, you knew that.

You could see it in the way he stared at you when you laughed,

Or when his demeanor slightly shifted when you flirted with Dehya

Or joked with Kaveh.

You wanted to love him back.

But that would be impossible.

So for now, he'd be your dirty little secret.

Inspired by Artemas's "dirty little secret"

[buryam-soul]

Ramblings about Candace in Chromatic Ode of Candies and Roses

I was going to add this to my cynodace culture post but since it's mostly about Candace (and not all of it culture-related), I figured I might as well make it its own thing.

Candace and Music

Candace and Nilou's performance at the parade being a parallel to the legend of the first ever Sabzerus Festival is already cool on its own. It strengthens their already-existing ties to Deshret and Malikata, respectively, and even a reincarnation-theory-neutral like me can enjoy that.

What caught my interest even more, however, were Candace and Deshret's instruments.

Deshret's is only described as an instrument with strings, while Candace's is explicitly named as the tanbur.

In real life, tanbur refers to several instruments from some parts of Asia, including India, Iran, and Iraq -- areas which heavily influence Sumeru's rainforest, but not so much the desert (except for the Girdle of the Sands area/Pari lore). So I like to think that the tanbur in Genshin is primarily a rainforest instrument, and Candace chose to learn it in part to connect to her father's cultural heritage.

Candace and Nahida

In a story primarily following Candace's point of view and centered around Nahida's birthday, it's...disappointing that they didn't so much as talk one on one.

But you could also argue that it might be intentional, at least on Candace's part. If you squint at some things. Mainly her voiceline on Nahida, which seems a little distant.

Perhaps it is a testament to the Dendro Archon's benevolence that I, a descendant of the Al-Ahmar bloodline, am able to live peacefully on this land. If so, I suppose I am grateful for this much, but... I am first and foremost a child of the desert.

Candace, "About Lesser Lord Kusanali"

She also wasn't mentioned in Alhaitham's Character Story 2 as one of the people who came to the Sanctuary of Surasthana to have discussions with him and Nahida. It seems she just... never really made contact with her even post-AQ (contrasted with Dehya who was part of the Surasthana meetings and has a voiceline about Kusanali being too light on the Sages).

Which makes her decision to take part in this parade interesting to me! It's like Candace is a little behind from everyone else in getting to know Nahida, but she now chooses to anyway, even if she's starting with silent observation and offerings of a performance. As someone who is steadfast in her duties even after finding out that the god who supposedly blessed her never did, she is probably the one least used to the concept of a god who is just...there, and not a distant thing of the past or something she could vaguely pray to.

It would be fun to see future Sumeru stories show her making progress on this. I would say I'm coping, but the fact that we got any Candace focus at all post-3.x has given me hope that anything's possible.

(Still bummed enough about the lack of interaction to draw something about it though)

Desert Gang shenanigannery

(I ship them all queerplatonically but feel free to read as whatever flavor you prefer)

Ouh her smile...

Also Ms. "Trying to save rowdy mercs fron Candace's wrath in her demo" Dehya is not immune to being a worrywart, I see. Very cute.

"I will encourage them being Worse" and Cyno's worse is "puns" and Candace's worse is "terrifying to troublemakers". I love them.

And finally. This line is not about them, I know. But I really like it combined with the Alhaitham and Candace focus. They're both very fond of their own "mundane" lives and have refused "better" job opportunities to keep said lives. Rotating this line in the Candace & Haitham corner of my mind constantly, I'm so glad we see them talk more.

Whew. Okay. Ramble over. Live laugh love Candace <3

[ruruumin]

meet me in amsterdam.

₊˚ ᗢ alhaitham x gn!reader, modern au.

⤷ based on the song, "meet me in amsterdam" by rini.

"I would sail across the world, row this boat from dusk til dawn."

Al-Haitham glances over at your figure, watching as you skipped rocks against the lake. The two of you abandoned your senior prom in favor of star gazing. He was dressed in a simple black tuxedo, with you wearing a rather fanciful garment. In true Al-Haitham fashion, he keeps a pair of headphones covering his ears. You, on the other hand, were dressed reasonably well tonight.  The jewelry that hangs from your neck shimmered underneath the moon’s light. He resists the urge to reach out with his fingers to tuck your hair behind your ear. 

The two of you originally came with different partners. Al-Haitham had an inkling to ask you to the dance but had been beaten by the Inazuman transfer student. So he ended up settling on taking Nilou. It must have been fate that led to both your partners leaving you to converse with one another. The silver-haired man doesn’t know whether or not he should pump up his fist in satisfaction, or give you sympathy. On one hand, he was glad that your partner walked off to talk to Nilou. On the other hand, he hated the heartbroken look plastered across your face when you were left alone on the dance floor. 

And so here you were. He grabbed you by the hand, ignoring your protests, and dragged you to a place that no other teenager would be on a Saturday night. You joked to him that he might be taking you to a secluded location to murder you, to which he replied with a snarky comment about how no one in this world would consider taking you out. Not because of the low percentages of murder in your hometown, but because he’d be the person protecting you. It’s cheesy, he has to admit. He read a couple of romance novels to prepare himself for a possible relationship with you, so he figured that being that knight in fairy tales might help him come off as heroic or reliable. 

He notes the way your frown turns into a small smile. Did he do something right? He dares to hope so. After knowing you for the majority of high school, he has yet to figure out whether or not you enjoyed his presence. Sure, you might say you tolerate him, but he just wishes that you could just admit it directly. Say that you liked to be with him. Say that you liked going out with him on Wednesdays. Say that you liked walking back home with him. He only wants a few words of appreciation and desire from you. Anything could do. As long as it's from you.

You don’t say much other than a few words about how the stars look bright tonight. You press your lips together, your eyes beginning to brim with tears as you try to tear your thoughts away from the misfortunes of prom. Al-Haitham can see the way you press your hand against the lower half of your face, your lips shivering at the cold weather. 

He nonchalantly takes off his jacket and pulls it over your shoulders. You stare at him with a surprised reaction, something that pulls him closer to you. He holds himself back from doing anything more and sighs under his breath, brushing aside a few strands of his slightly messy hair. You squeeze the edges of his jacket, holding it close to you. Al-Haitham calls your name. He points to a few stars dancing above the clouds, dragging your eyes to where his fingers landed. He takes the time to describe to you a few of the constellations. 

You can see the way his lips curve into a smile as his eyes glimmer at the prospect of sharing new information with you. You try not to laugh in the middle of his explanations. He’s always been so passionate about knowledge. Always digging his nose into books when everyone else would rather party or watch movies. He’s the most exciting friend you had and one that you can’t explain your feelings for. He keeps you grounded. Pulling you back when you start to wander a little too far. 

Slowly easing yourself closer to his figure, you let your pinkies touch. He says nothing when they do. His ears grow slightly hot but he stays focused on talking about the Northstar. Saying nothing more to him, you lean your head against his shoulder, humming in contentment as his voice drowns out the worries in your head. Prom wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. Perhaps you should have gone with him from the very beginning.

"There ain't no sunshine, no sunshine, where I was before."

Kaveh groans and reaches out to open Al-Haitham’s door, seeing that the room was pitch dark except for the small night light illuminating his restless figure. It was the same night light you’d gifted him when he was a high schooler, believing that it might scare away the restless nightmares that haunted him. It was a childish reason, Al-Haitham claims, he’s not some child that needs light because he’s afraid of the darkness. Yet he uses it every night, even now, when he’s in college. Not that you would know. 

Kaveh scratches the back of his neck, leaning against the frame of the door, complaining about the tossing and turning he could hear from the other room. He wants to scold the younger man, but when he sees the way tears prickle at the edges of his eyes, he can’t seem to say anything. He presses his lips together as the silver-haired man pulls himself together. He’s in an upright sitting position with his back against the headboard, his arm held up in an attempt to shield his tears from the blond. 

This was the first time the older man saw him so defensive. He’s always been high in the clouds, too far out of reach for him to believe that he could love. It’s absurd, he understands. Al-Haitham is human. He’s made of the same components as himself. He has flesh and blood running through him. A heart that beats a little too quickly to be caught. And being human comes with complicated feelings that twist and churn in his stomach.

Kaveh restrains himself from letting out a sigh when Al-Haitham wipes away at the corner of his eye, narrowing his eyes towards his roommate. He tries to snap at him with a snarky comment in an attempt to push him away. However, the blond knows him. Perhaps a little more than Al-Haitham gives him credit for. He pushes through the invisible force that drives him away, his figure resting at the end of his bed as he finally lets go of the breath he’s holding. 

He knows about you through photos. Pictures Al-Haitham left on his phone. He wasn’t one to snoop yet when he saw your glimmering smile on the front of his wallpaper, it screamed to him. His curiosity got the better of him and he wanted to know who this mysterious person was. Don’t blame Kaveh for remembering Al-Haitham’s password. It was a straight line down the keypad: 2580852. Anyone could remember it. And he needs to change it asap if he doesn’t want Kaveh to see anything unnecessary. 

He figures that something occurred between the two of you for him to act so vulnerable. Al-Haitham was the kind of person who would hide his feelings underneath snotty comments and a stoic face. But underneath he can be just as vulnerable as the next person. He has feelings and emotions that he is confused by. It stings and he doesn’t know what he could do to fix it. Reading books about his symptoms only leads him to a path of more confusion and utter nonsense. Had the circumstances been different, Kaveh would have mocked him for being a hopeless romantic. 

Yet now was not the time. Even if he did theoretically hate Al-Haitham for his messy habits around the house, his incapability to clean up after himself, and the way he toss and turned in bed causing Kaveh to wake up in the middle of the night, he couldn’t leave him like this. So he asks him if he’s okay. His eyes eyeing him from the side as Al-Haitham lets out a scoff, shrugging it off. Very typical of him. 

There was a moment of silence between the two. Neither of them talked. They only rested their shoulders, letting them slump over. Al-Haitham turns to the night light, his teal irises flickering from its existence to Kaveh’s. He figures that it was time to tell him about the darkness that plagues his mind. It would be better than clogging it up in every nook and cranny of his mind. And perhaps Kaveh might sympathize a little. Maybe he’d grow a bit more quiet around the house. And stopped nagging him about the books piling up on the coffee table. 

Al-Haitham has long acknowledged his strange feelings for you, his childhood friend. He knows that the quickening beat of his heart was something more than simple jitters. The way you reached out to brush aside his hair left flickers of flames on his pale skin. Your smile that brightens up his day is the first thing he thinks of when he wakes up in the morning. And the lingering stare he has on his toothbrush makes him wonder what it would be like to have yours beside his. 

But at last, it seemed as if you slipped through the cracks of his fingers. His inability to express to you his true feelings was left burning on the tip of his tongue. Even if he was a brutally straightforward man, he had his weaknesses. And one of those was you. 

"Won't you come closer, let it take over."

Al-Haitham stares at you, frozen in his steps. You're at the same late that night of prom. This time at least, you had a few more layers of clothing to keep you warm from tonight's weather. In your hand was a small pebble that you twirled between your fingers. The tips of your nails glide against the rough surface before flicking your wrist, sending it flying a couple of steps.

It's been a while since he last saw you. You had moved away to a different college. He attended one further south, while you left for the north. You started a new life with a different job. Met a couple of new friends from Mondstadt. Your appearance was mainly the same, except for a few loose strands that fell to the sides of your cheeks. 

You've seen each other a couple of times on your feeds. Al-Haitham has the habit of liking whatever you post. He hardly ever comments. If the day seemed right, he would drop a few lines asking about the book you're reading in the corner of the photo. But never something in an attempt to reconnect with you. He figured that you've grown too far out of his reach. And that perhaps it would be better if he allowed you to live your life without you.

It stung him for the majority of college. You and he called frequently in freshman year. However, it quickly diminished as the years went on. Your conversations diverged from asking him about his day to talking about your new coworkers and how you'll contact him when you get your new schedule. He tries to keep a smile on his face and nods to everything you say. He figures that his feelings for you might stay unrequited for a while. Maybe you knew from the start and didn't want to tell him, out of fear that you might embarrass him.

He’s unsure of what he should do at this moment. Should he reach out? Should he sit next to you? Could you still talk like the old days? He wrestles with the thoughts in his head, not noticing the way you turn your head to him, offering him the familiar kind-hearted smile he’s grown too fond of. He nervously sits beside you, his body still as a board while you chuckle. 

He’s grown quite a bit since you last saw him in person. He was a little shorter when he was in high school. Now that you were older, he towered over you. He was always a quiet man, you knew this to be true. Despite being close friends for the majority of high school and a bit beyond, he never shared more than he had to. His face, while stoic, always implied that he was holding back something. His tongue was lodged further back than other people.

But that doesn’t matter now, does it? The two of you are older now. More mature than ever. The past mistakes you’ve created started to shape who you were today. And that person came back to him. 

"I don't need anything, I just want you."

He remembers the feeling of your skin against him. When you pulled him by his fingers, guiding him through the open area of street markets. Older couples would stand outside their vendors, waving to people with the smell of freshly cooked food. Al-Haitham doesn’t say anything as you skipped around. The smile on his face says more than enough. Your eyes sparkled in excitement when you point to the mangos being sold in a cup. You had your signature bright smile, the one that would light up the entire world when it grows dark. It was the same familiar feeling he received whenever he turns on his childish nightlight.

He’s quiet when you notice an older stall, too busy being distracted by the warmth of your hand to make any rational decisions regarding your spending habits. You opened your wallet to pour out a couple of coins, handing it to the street vendor. In a matter of seconds, you hold up a few skewers towards Al-Haitham, gesturing for him to try the food. He drops a couple of snarky words towards you, but it was quickly silenced when you pushed the food against his lips. He lets out a sigh. He reaches out to hold your hand, the same one gripping the skewer, and settles by taking a bite. 

You try to ignore the way your face grows a bit warmer when he chews slowly. His expression which had been neutral, morphed into enjoyment. He comments on the tenderness and how savory it was. You’ve always known that he liked meat but seeing him grow so close to you made you wonder what else you knew. He takes one more bite before pushing it back towards you, his eyes softening as he smiles. “You should try it as well,” he says, taking your other free hand and interlacing your fingers.

For some reason, you start to feel a bit nervous. You don’t say anything when he holds up the stick as you eat. The sparkle in your eyes continues to shine radiantly as you finish the rest of the food. A smile still spread across your face. Now, he’s the one pulling you to another vendor, pointing at a few items and ordering them for the two of you to try. He wants you to experience some of his favorites as well. 

He doesn’t know how to describe this scene in words. Watching you enjoy a meal in front of him, your hands reaching out to feed him on the occasion sent waves of butterflies in his stomach. He questions if this was the start of something new for your relationship. Friends, close friends, distant friends, and back around to friends. Will you see something different in him if he continued to hint at his feelings? Could you feel his pulse whenever you hold his hand? Can you feel how quickly it beats for you? 

He wants to express to you the words that have been lodged in his throat. The same ones that Kaveh wishes so desperately he could spill. Roommate or not, he says that this game of cat and mouse has gone on for too long. It was so blatantly obvious that he was still in love with you. So hopelessly, devoted to you, even when you’re so far out of reach sometimes. 

He understands that he isn’t the first person people think of when it comes to romance. But he wants you to see him for who he was. Someone that could open up the world for you. Someone that would sail the seas just to embrace you underneath the moonlight. Someone who dreams of you every night, hoping that you might catch his lingering touches that sting like an ember. 

He says something to you in another language. I like you, it translates. It causes you to perk up in interest as you lean your head against the palm of your hand. He blinks a few times before clearing his throat, rolling his eyes as you tease him about what he said. You poke and prodded at his cheek, pouting every time he gives you a dry answer. He would eventually shut you up by holding up a fork, shoving the rest of your food in your mouth. 

He ignores your cries and moans, begging him to give you a translation of what he says. He only pushes your head away and squeezes your hand a little tighter. He hopes that you can’t see the way his pale skin reflects the red tint of apples. 

“If there is a next time, meet me in Amsterdam” 

He sucks in a deep breath when he pushes you down onto the sofa. Your eyes stare deep into his as your fingers glide across his skin. He tries not to whimper when you press against his rose-tinted lips. Your presence to him was addicting. It kept pulling him back and forth like an ocean wave. You’ve caught him in your net and he can’t find the power to break himself free. 

Kaveh was out of the house today and the silver-haired man jumped at the opportunity to bring you over. It’s been months since you’ve first reconnected with him. Months spent so generously with the man before you. After spending a week in town, you decided to extend your say just a little bit longer. You wanted to explore this strange flame that had developed in your chest. And it would lead you here. Your back against the soft cushions as Al-Haitham pinned you down. 

Oh, how he longed for this moment. For him to stare deep into your eyes with nothing more but fondness for you. For him to finally share how he feels without having to look over his shoulder. For him to finally tell you that he truly, wholeheartedly, loves you with everything he has. He wants to finally tell you that he’s been waiting since high school to hold your hand like this. Waiting throughout college to kiss you. Dreaming all this time to be yours.

He leans his forehead against yours, breathing in your scent as you smile. Was this the breaking of the dam? The flood that is your relationship, coming to crash against this wall? The tension that had been mimicking the push and pull of a rope was beginning to snap. And he could feel nothing except explosions at the pit of his stomach as he pressed his lips against yours. He holds onto you tightly, scared of losing you one more time. 

But you stay. You bury your fingers in his hair, bringing him closer to you. He rested his weight against your stomach, fingers clutching onto your waist. Kocham Cię, he says when he breaks away from you. Air becomes short when he goes back to snatching your lips. Anh yêu em, he whispers against your skin. Seni seviyorum. He squeezes your waist. Eu te amo. He tilts his head just a little to capture you once more. Ya lyublyu tebya. He pulls away from you with heavy breaths.

He wants you to know how much he loves you. He wants you to see the number of times he’s held back on kissing you each time you smile. You were like the sun to him. So warm and out of reach at times, yet he desired you nonetheless. He waited years for this moment. And he wants nothing more than to indulge. If you would have him, he would give you everything. He would give you everything he is, and so much more. 

Ich liebe dich, he kisses the side of your cheek. Wǒ ài nǐ, he kisses your forehead. Te quiero, he kisses your nose. You let out a few giggles as you attempt to push him away. Wrapping your legs around him, you keep him steady. His body is squished against yours. You begin to melt in his arms, his lips still kissing the surface of your skin. He looks into your eyes with those beautiful teal irises. 

I love you, he finally says. 

And you would reply with, I love you too.