Once upon a time, it was the curling notes of a flute that pulled him from his desperation.

Back then, Xiao wasn't long for the world. Even now, he still wonders just how much time he has left to roam. It worries him. He's the only one left that still fights the evil that seeps from the ground, protecting the home that he loves.

He thinks about the melody often, a warm feeling in his gut. It's like that soft, spongy feel that he gets when he eats Almond Tofu— grounding and familiar. When he thinks of the music, those thin, spindly shadows that surround him all but melt away.

And then he meets Lumine.

Xiao is one part enamored, mostly annoyed. He holds his lance in his hand, just barely dodging a blow from her sword.

"You're distracted," she says, her blade arcing out and narrowly missing his face.

"No." Xiao doesn't mean for it to come out like a hiss, but she's right. She always is. Lumine can read him like a book, a strategist at her core. She laughs lightly as she moves to strike again, and this time, Xiao meets the blow, shoving it off with his weapon.

They step back and watch each other. Lumine breathes heavily as she wipes sweat from her brow. Xiao isn't tired, but his wrist stings from where she slapped it with the flat of her blade earlier. How pesky.

"Ready to call it?" he asks.

"Absolutely not." She never is. Lumine takes her stance again, readying herself.

Xiao sighs, but follows suit. And really, he doesn't hate it, even if he's lost all patience with her. It's nice to have a spar, to feel his muscles burn with a good fight instead of a bad one. Lumine offers poise and expertise, despite her lacking years, and Xiao doesn't have to worry about accidentally breaking her with a single hit.

Still.

Xiao moves first this time, dipping low and delivering what might be viewed as an underhanded blow. Lumine brushes it off with a shrug, twirling about him with a swirl of Anemo. "Shit," he murmurs, not having expected it. She must've resonated with a statue of Barbatos before coming here.

Lumine dances around him, before reeling back and taking aim. Xiao turns just quick enough to bend away, narrowly missing the cut.

She tsks. "Wow, you really are distracted." She pauses, dropping her sword and looking at him curiously. "Are you sure that you're alright?"

For once in his life, no. Xiao feels off-kilter and off-balance. The karma is getting to him, it must be. He feels the dread that sinks deep into his gut, settling there. He tries to think of the music, those wondrous notes that lifted from Barbatos's flute.

Instead, he looks at Lumine, whose eyebrows are raised in amusement.

"Are you done?"

Xiao nearly says yes, but his old bones itch for a spar, the kind that will leave him aching satisfyingly. When they clash again, his joints vibrate with the intensity of it. With Lumine, he doesn't have to hold back. She meets every hit that he throws at her, and never pulls her punches.

He feels alive, he realizes. Xiao wonders when he started thinking of soft cornsilk hair, instead of that breeze-like melody.

And then he wonders why he prefers it.

#

Xiao regrets telling her that he'll come whenever she calls.

It's irrational. He tries to tell himself that she's annoying, with her sun-spun hair, and wide, keen eyes, and the way that she smiles and—

Yes, irrational.

Xiao is a masked menace. With every evil that he fights back, he falls deeper and deeper into the thick of it. Karma drips from his fingertips and bleeds from his pores. He is dusted with darkness, thin curling tendrils of the shadowy beyond.

Yet, Lumine doesn't look at him like that. She never once has. Instead, she regards him as though he is a puzzle, just waiting to be solved.

Today she is looking at him with that wicked, calculating gaze again, and Xiao fidgets under her stare.

"You came rather quick," she says with a grin, "One would say… immediately?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I keep my promises, that is all." Lumine's face crinkles at that, and she laughs. "What is your reasoning for calling me? Do you wish to spar?"

"Today? No. I wish for—" She holds up a basket that looks rather suspicious. Lumine taps it with her hand. "A picnic!"

Xiao blinks at her, unsure that he's heard correctly. But she doesn't elaborate, she only beams widely. "I— no."

"No?" Lumine tuts at that, turning to spread out a blanket over the ground. "I didn't think you a boring man, Xiao."

Xiao is the furthest thing from boring. Mortals quake at the mere mention of his name. There are tales spun about his visage, and he's often the villain that keeps children tucked tight into their beds at night. To call him boring is, frankly, laughable.

Lumine sits on the blanket and pats the spot next to her. "Come on."

"I believe that I said no."

"Are you above good food?"

Xiao raises an eyebrow at that. "The last time I was promised good food, it was the wily concoctions of that young woman—"

"Xiangling."

"Right." Xiao pauses, crossing his arms over his chest. "I was less than impressed"

Lumine looks bemused, the corners of her eyes wrinkling slightly. "Ah, yes, but you are partial to the fare of Wangshu Inn, are you not?"

"Only their—"

Lumine reveals a perfectly portioned serving of Almond Tofu, masterfully prepared by Smiley Yanxio's hand. Xiao would recognize it anywhere. His mouth waters and his arms fall loose to his sides.

"Yeah, that is what I thought." Lumine taps the spot next to her. "I wasn't entirely unprepared. I knew you'd say no."

Xiao tries to leave. He sits instead, his legs carrying him faster than his brain can say no. It is awkward. He is uncomfortable, he doesn't know what to do with his hands, he doesn't know what to say—

He doesn't know why he leans into her touch as she hands him the plate, their fingers just barely brushing.

Except that he does.

Xiao's heart twists in the worst of ways. The soft pitter-pattering of its beat feels foreign, just like that want that's buried itself deep there. Xiao isn't accustomed to wanting things, selfish little desires for him, and him alone. Everything that he does is for others, even now, his wings clipped and lance at the behest of mortal kind.

But he pines, oh, how he pines. Lumine's soft smile and gentle laugh. The way that she regards him as a normal being, and nothing else, nothing odd. Xiao has never realized that he craves a sense of normalcy, even if only for a moment.

"So, what's the verdict?"

Xiao's attention snaps back to her, Lumine's gaze trained on his face. "Hm?"

She points to his food. "The Almond Tofu, of course. Is it just as you like?"

He knows that it will be without even tasting it, but Xiao takes a bite nonetheless. "It's— yes, it's perfect." A pause. "Thank you."

Lumine leans over and nudges his shoulder with her own. The bare skin of his shoulder feels warmer than it has in eons.

#

The next time she calls him, it is for another spar.

Xiao, though, is failing miserably, utterly distracted. He's spent night after night sulking about. Pining. Wishing. Wondering. What would it be like to comb his fingers through her hair? He hates this—or rather he should. They are at odds more than they are evens. Xiao is annoyed by Lumine's very presence, even if he finds her company bearable.

Except that it's beyond bearable now, it's preferable.

Xiao does not do people, so says Verr Goldet, purveyor of the Wangshu Inn, and local Conqueror of Demons expert. So naturally, even she noticed his change in demeanor and loathsome, starstruck gaze.

It makes him a little sick.

Until he sees Lumine again, and it's like everything fits right back into place, righting itself. Makes for a near-impossible fight.

Lumine sweeps low over the ground, quick on her feet, blade held out like a steady extension of her arm. Xiao readies himself, and his lance of old, the pole cold underneath his fingertips as he remembers the soft warmth of her skin instead.

Celestia, he has got it bad.

Lost in his thoughts, Xiao does the unthinkable—he trips. He tumbles. And instead of landing on his feet with the grace of a cat, he upends himself right across Lumine, knocking her to the ground.

It is a precarious position, pressed together, covered in dirt and dust. Xiao expects Lumine to push him away.

She doesn't. Lumine is shocked and surprised, and reaches out to curl her fingers into the soft silk of his shirt—but she remains there firmly underneath him. Xiao can feel his face burning red with embarrassment as he scrambles slightly, trying to pull away.

Lumine holds him firm, stronger than she looks. "Xiao," she says, testing the waters, "Is this okay?"

Oh, it's more than okay. They slot so well together as he hangs over her, faces only inches apart. He wants to kiss her. What a traitorous thought. Still, he reaches out, pressing a hand to her cheek, thumbing across her lower lip.

Xiao cannot remember the last time that he kissed someone, or wanted to. It has been eons since he felt such an unnerving, instinctual drive to do so. But Lumine lies below him, her chest heaving, and face flushed from their spar. Her fingers are soft against his shirt, and she tugs at him just ever so slightly.

"Come on," she tells him.

They were never enemies. Lumine has been anything but from the moment that they met. Xiao's unhindered stubbornness and refusal to let himself indulge in something selfish, for once in his Celestia-damned life, has been a barrier.

But he wants, and Lumine is telling him to do so.

"I— I am unused to this," he says softly, moving to comb his fingers through her hair instead. It's just as soft as he thought it'd be, just like the silk found in cornhusks. Xiao finds that he never wants to let go.

Lumine smiles then, wide and bright, not unlike the sun. Xiao thinks it's been a long time since he's felt such warmth.

"That's alright," she says with a laugh.

And then she tugs him down and kisses him, and Xiao all but floats away.