Work Text:
the night breeze carried a soft tune, as venti plucked the strings of the lyre his fragile hands held. the sounds of the music melting into the silence as the night stretched onwards.
the reflection of the moon and stars reflected on the ocean before him. creating a scenery that he could only admire.
the leaves on the autumn-colored trees blew softly in the breeze, as if dancing to the sounds.
his eyelashes created a small shadow underneath his eyes, his hair blew just barely. as earlier in the night he had taken out his braids, something he rarely did.
but at this time, he yearned to feel the wind against his skin, to feel free.
his hands slowly came to a stop, the last stings were plucked as his song came to its end. the moon shone against him, creating a dim shadow behind
his lips tried to form a smile, but his face felt numb. or rather, everything felt numb.
his feet dangled off the edge of star snatchcliff. he looked out onto the open horizon, the clouds in the sky floated aimlessly.
he set his lyre onto the ground and rested his hands behind him, supporting his weight on his arms.
his vision slightly blurred as he felt something warm roll down his cheeks, dripping onto his neck.
for the first time in an eternity, he felt the weight of the world crushing down on him.
xiao stared at the lifeless body of an abyss mage before him. his spear in his hands, his face bloodied.
his hair blew in the breeze. it felt too silent.
he turned his gaze away, looking up at the starry sky before him. he saw all the millions of constellations he had come to learn over the years.
he looked over at the moon that shone brightly on him, lighting the world around him.
he closed his eyes. suddenly, his body felt hot, and his eyes stung. he recognized this feeling. he blinked the tears away as he began to walk back to wangshu inn.
he felt empty.
venti rested his head against the trusted bark of a thousand years. he stirred in the morning light as he had awoken on the tree in windrise.
his braids were undone and his eyes felt puffy. he began to collect the memories of the night before. he sighed as he sat up and stretched.
birds chirped and sung their songs as morning slowly arrived. the sun was beginning to rise and the morning dew was evident on the ground.
he yearned.
before he knew it, he had fallen asleep again. completely ignoring the morning calls and going back to the dream he didn’t even remember.
this time, he was sure he would remember it.
the house sat atop the hill, the breeze carried a sweet scent to it. the grass blew back and forth, adding onto the sound of rain falling and hitting the ground in a rhythm none could remember.
the house itself was old and run down, yet it brung a feeling of home. the house was made of an old wood, and there were a few vines here and there.
there was a small vegetable patch outside along with the clothesline, which was currently empty.
venti lay in the center of the bed. the room was completely lit by the natural light pouring in from the makeshift window.
his eyes were closed, and he listened to the sounds of rain hitting the roof and grass swaying in the breeze.
he suddenly heard footsteps, the floorboards creaked with the persons every step. they made their way towards the door to the room he lay in. he heard the door being opened and closed faintly, before he felt a warm presence next to his.
he looked over to find xiao. his emerald eyes glued onto venti, and only venti. no one else.
venti stared back, his throat was dry and he couldn’t bring himself to speak. venti lay on his back while xiao was on his stomach.
xiao’s eyes held a glint, a spark, which they usually don’t. his eyes always seemed empty, yet now, in the silence of the rain. his eyes were full of love and passion.
the spring scent blew through the window and carried through the house, he faintly remembered what it felt like, to belong somewhere.
the next part was but a blur in his memory. a distant dream for him to remember another day.
his eyes opened as he yawned softly. it was night again. he slept through the whole day, dreaming about his first love. the first love he knew would never love him back. as xiao was a man of few words, and is only but a mere thought. for if he was delicate as a feather, or bold as a rock. he was something one could only yearn for. something he’ll never have.
and oh, did he yearn for it.