WhIP

by footfungus

nederlands verhalen over mijn otp

238. Chapter 238

born to blush unseen

treacher

Summary:

perhaps, one day, he would look at her the way she looked at him. however, Lumine knew she was running out of time.

Chapter 1: tulip

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter fornotes.)

Chapter Text

Today, too, that man was standing in front of her shop.

Ginger-colored hair, eyes blue like the ocean, nonchalant, almost boyish smile thrown at everyone who greeted him; the man positively looked younger than his actual age. He was twenty-something years old, she believed, but probably not yet reaching twenty-five.

It was mere guess because she recognized the subtle exhaustion that lingered for a millisecond whenever he puffed out smoke after the slow drag on his cigarette. No teenagers would have that kind of look. The one he had on his face was something that could not be achieved so easily without age.

He was jaded, Lumine mused with a frown when she finally found the perfect word, but the mask he wore was flawless.

And it fooled her, too, at first. However, Lumine quickly noticed the existence of his mask few weeks ago when it was the third time he stood waiting in front of her shop.

Honestly, she never knew that he could make that kind of face. His whole face was lit up as someone approached him. Someone whose slick, long, dark brown hair fluttered in the wind, whose amber eyes held both the sense of coldness and gentleness at the same time, who always, somehow, forgetting his wallet whenever he came to her shop without a fail.

And today, too, that same man came like he usually did on every Wednesday afternoon.

The blue-eyed man's cigarette was immediately discarded to the ground, burning ember flickered out under the sole of his foot. Lumine thought how it was a very him to do that and watched how the man's smile grew, blue eyes gleamed, and shoulders visibly relaxed.

The realization did not come too late for her. That honest face of the ginger-haired man was solely reserved for this man, and so did the small bouquet of glaze lilies he ordered from her several minutes ago.

Lumine (pathetically) wondered if she had a chance at all. Well, she should have known that it would be next to none. The ginger-man was obviously attracted to the mature-looking man, even if the other man seemed to be so blissfully unaware of his affection. Resting her head on her hand, she could only sigh behind the cash register as she watched them, or at the ginger-man who smiled and laughed at whatever their conversation might be about.

What a sweet laugh, all for the man who did not even realize the degree of affection the other held.

But she guessed it was fine. This stupid crush of hers would disappear eventually. It would not linger in her for too long and she would not let it. She was not stupid enough to keep a feeling for a man who, well, definitely had zero interest in her. Or to females in general.

Lumine sighed, tore away her lingering gaze from the two men outside her shop, and walked to the storage room; her fresh stock of flowers would not sort itself out. A stock of yellow tulips and white daisies came this morning, already kept in the cooler but yet to be placed into the display container. She could switch the glaze lilies with one of them – those lilies were starting to wither from the lack of interest from her customers. Not that her customers were abundant in the first place too.

Running a flower shop might be the wildest idea she had amongst other better ideas according to Paimon and Xiangling. She could work and earn better money at Xiangling's family restaurant, but she had no intention of closing this small shop, even after one of the proprietors had gone. Money was not really her problem – it somewhat did, but she was not too bothered by it.

A soft jingle of the bell had Lumine picking up the tulips in haste as she exited the storage room and back to the shop area. It turned out that the customers who came were too familiar for her eyes to see.

The ginger-man and the mature man.

Both were her regulars, especially the dark-haired man, but they never came to her shop together and usually only used the front of her shop as their meeting point. So, it was kind of a (pleasant? unpleasant?) surprise for her when they came to her shop instead of leaving like they usually did.

"Welcome," she managed to croak out that standard greeting despite the sudden dryness in her throat, "please have a look around."

Lumine refused to meet the eyes of the ginger-man and opted to focus her gaze on the mature man instead. His amber eyes stared back at her quietly, the coldness she saw earlier was gone as a small smile appeared together with a subtle nod.

For a second, she felt as if she was caught in his silent, almost scrutinizing gaze. But then, she blinked and it felt like she had broken free from whatever that bound her. She offered the man a subtle smile, then made her way to the row of the unused glass container.

After a quick wash, the glass container was filled with water and she put the yellow tulips inside then placed it next to the almost withering glaze lilies. It was too bad that not many liked this exotic flower and chose to buy the classic rose. Even though, personally, she thought that glaze lilies' scent was better than roses', most of her customers leaned to the thorny flower for its lower price.

Her golden eyes stared at the glaze lilies with a fraction of melancholy. Back then, Aether would love to have the leftover glaze lilies all for himself to decorate the tiny living space of theirs behind the shop. Perhaps it was because of him that her preference to the glaze lilies went on strongly. But now that he was gone, Lumine did not know if she could see the silvery flower the same way.

Too many memories arose from merely glancing at it.

As she crouched down to the glaze lilies, a presence was felt and she turned her head to the side. The amber-eyed man was staring at her, or at the glaze lilies, with too much intensity than what the flowers needed. A hand was brought to his chin; thumb and index finger gently brushed the spot in a thinking manner.

"Sensei, what are you looking at?"

Lumine sucked a sharp breath as a voice rang in the space and the ginger-man entered her field of view. She schooled her expression, suppressing the blush that threatened to break, and busied herself with rearranging the tulips.

"Glaze lilies," was the curt reply of the man dubbed as 'sensei'. She thought he would stop at that, but then, he added, "it is a pity for those flowers, mentioned numerous times in the history of Liyue, to be left withering just like that."

He sounded like a scholar. Or maybe he was one. Judging from the way he spoke; it was no surprise if he was actually a scholar or even a poet, even though it oddly reminded her of the grandpa from the general store one block away. His smooth voice carried the gentle yet fierce sense of knowledge and she bet he could lull people into hearing the rest of the topic like the famous storyteller Liu Su.

"Oh?" Ginger-man mused, and Lumine heard the twinge of amusement in that subtle remark.

"We shall buy it all," the scholar announced aloud after a firm nod.

Her golden eyes widened and she turned to him abruptly, almost knocking the tulips over. "Pardon?"

Gentle amber eyes met her surprised golden ones. "We would like to buy all of these glaze lilies," he elaborated. "Please make it into one big bouquet."

Wow, Lumine sighed inwardly, what a lavish way to spend money. Lumine was not complaining, it was the total opposite if she could be honest, but there were almost twenty glaze lilies there and with the cost of turning it into a big bouquet, it was going to be quite pricey. It might be presumptuous of her, but did the scholar remember to bring his wallet this time around?

"Of course, sir," Lumine replied quickly, picking up the glaze lilies and placed them on the workstation. Faintly, she heard a sigh coming from the ginger-man as she did her job, but it was, somehow, sounded almost fond.

The ginger-man really loved the scholar, huh?

Well, it's none of my business.

Or so Lumine thought, yet her chest clenched almost uncomfortably and she almost cut herself with the scissors. She would love to slap herself for being easily distracted, but it would only direct unwanted attention to her. It was undeniably dangerous, both the scissors and the uninvited ache inside her.

While arranging eighteen flowers was uncommon for her, she managed to finish it as neat as possible and was about to call for the scholar when she realized he had been standing in front of her all this time. He had the same pose as when he looked at the glaze lilies earlier, and Lumine started to wonder if he was trying to make sure she did her job well.

"Would you like to include a greeting card as well?" she pushed the thought aside and asked the question she had asked her customer repeatedly. "Or I can change the color of the ribbon or the string if it doesn't suit you, sir."

The scholar shook his head gently. "No need. It is already perfect the way it is."

As expected from a humble poet; such flattery for her far-from-high-quality work.

"I hope whoever received this is pleased," she smiled at him, nonetheless. "It's my first time creating a big bouquet. I hope the receiver likes it."

His hand moved from his chin to the smooth surface of the paper surrounding the glaze lilies, brushing it gently. "That person has passed away, but I am sure that they will like it."

"Ah," Lumine bowed her head immediately, "I'm sorry for being rude, sir. My deepest condolence–"

To her surprise, his hand caressed her head tenderly, brushing her golden locks in a way that sharply reminded her of Aether. The scholar or poet or whoever he was must be good at handling those younger than him. Despite the oddity of always forgetting his wallet and money, he exuded the air of a wise and trustworthy man.

"It is alright." His deep voice that replied to her was rumbling in her ears. The smile that accompanied it was strained as he picked up the bouquet.

Lumine nodded slightly, quietly, before she went to the cash register and had the ginger-man leaning against the counter, waiting for her. His blue eyes, however, were falling to the place where the scholar was. Something was caught by her then, a subtle swirl of emotion that she had never seen in him before – something akin to the mixture of fondness, yearning, and somewhat sadness.

Ah, so it was an unrequited feeling, after all?

"I guess I'll be the one who pays for that bouquet, then," the ginger-man sighed with a small smile. "How much is it,ojou-chan?"

Ojou-chan. He always called her that. While it did not sound unpleasant, she wished he would call her by her name. Of course, it was just a self-indulging wish of hers, and such a wish should be removed from her head. It was risky, not to mention that the man spared no interest in anything other than the scholar too.

"It's thirty-two thousand moras," Lumine uttered, eyes staring dagger to the blinking number on the screen. For some reason, she refused to call him 'sir' as she did to the scholar or other customers. Somehow, that title just did not suit him.

Be honest, Lumine, you just wanted to be less formal with him, weren't you?

Oh, shut it.

"Sure," ginger-man nodded, fishing out some cash from his wallet. However, his hand lingered atop them when he placed it on the counter. An eyebrow raised, Lumine cocked her head to the side in a silent question. His smile did not falter, but his whisper almost sent chills down her spine.

"Paws off,ojou-chan."

Lumine blinked slowly before realization sunk in her head. She would have laughed at it, but she refrained and opted to play it cool while ignoring the small, tight knot in her chest. "I will if you let me have those moras."

Ginger-man's blue eyes gleamed, probably not expecting her to return his warning with such a witty remark. He lifted his hand, lips curved into an amused smile followed with a small chuckle. Lumine said nothing and put the money in the cash register.

"Paws off him," she said dryly, giving him the receipt. "Not that I have my eyes on him in the first place."

My eyes are on you, genius.

"Well, you better be," he slipped the receipt to his pocket, grinning at her.

Lumine switched her leverage to her left feet, leaning slightly toward him. "You talk as if you own him."

Those blue eyes softened as he glanced at the scholar, who kept his studious gaze to the rows of flowers in front of him, completely unaware of their conversation.

"Not yet," he whispered, voice thick with yearning. "But I will, soon."

Soon. But not yet. Would he ever get him? The scholar looked like he had someone else in his mind as he gazed at those glaze lilies earlier.

"Well, good luck," was her only reply. She did not need to explain to him how that head pat actually made her feel, right? It sounded like an excuse if she did and some things were better kept to oneself too.

He glanced at her, a boyish smile thrown at her. "Right, I'm Childe," he said suddenly. "I'm the one who usually pays forsensei's… unpaid purchases from your shop."

Ah, yes, those envelopes filled with moras that always slipped through the gap of her shop's door in the early morning. She was wary of that money at first but seeing it oddly added to the lack of money in her cash register, she just took it as the payment for the scholar's glaze lilies. So it was his money?

"I see," she replied, biting back the question of how someone was able to walk around Liyue Harbor without bringing his wallet or even a handful of mora. "Thank you for the payment, Childe."

Childe. She finally said his name. It rolled nicely on her tongue, it fitted his youthful appearance just right, it had a good ambiance to it. Still, she should not judge a book by its cover, for that name belonged to the notorious trouble seeker around this part of Liyue, also known as Tartaglia of the Eleven Harbingers. And Lumine, despite had just been told of his identity, she was aware of it since quite some time ago.

She ignored his pointed gaze aimed at her. His head was cocked to the side when she finally gave him another confused look. "You don't look nervous at all," he remarked.

"Oh, Should I?"

"No," he shook his head, still amused. "It's just rare to find someone, agirl, who doesn't flinch at the name."

Lumine tilted her head to the side. "From what I often see, the people around here aren't wary for you, though."

"Maybe that's because they didn't know my identity," Childe reasoned.

And she sighed at him. "There's no one who did not recognize the one named Childe or Tartaglia around here."

"Is that so?"

"It is."

"Is it a good thing?" His hand reached to a small basket next to the cash register, picking up a petal in blue color. "To be liked by everyone?"

She blinked away the flinch that threatened to emerge from the way his thumb brushed over the petal.

"Maybe not," her answer came in a whisper, "but it sure is good to be liked by the person you like."

Childe glanced at her, giving her a subtle questioning look which she ignored. Her hand rubbed against her apron uneasily – the annoying itch inside her returned. But this was hardly a good time to scratch that itch, not when she had customers in her shop. Lumine opted to walk away from the counter to the storage room and returned with the white daisies. She needed to distract herself.

To her surprise, the ginger-haired man followed after her, watching how she changed the water from the container that was used to be filled with the glaze lilies and placed the daisies there. He looked like a curious little kid, she supposed. Such a sharp contrast if compared to the scholar who seemed like he held a thousand-year-old worth of wisdom.

They were quite the peculiar pair if Lumine thought about it again.

"So, how long have you noticed my identity,ojou-chan?" Childe asked quietly as if whispering a secret. "Evensenseiseems to be unaware of it."

"Maybe long enough to feel unthreatened by that fact? I also often see you meeting him," she glanced at the scholar, who now studying the dried flowers hanging on a wall, "outside my shop. It would be weird for me to fear you."

He raised an eyebrow. "Not even the tiniest bit?"

"No. Even if you belong to the crime syndicate, you're also one of my regulars, after all, besides him."

"Heh," he laughed, patting her head lightly and a part of her fluttered silently from the touch. "Gotta treat your customers good, huh,ojou-chan?"

Lumine was torn between letting his hand brushing her hair, probably created a mess out of her golden locks, or stepped away. She knew she should be stepping away – she had promised herself not to let those feelings for him lingered in her. Yet she did not know if she would ever get another chance to be this close to him in the future.

This was the first time she talked properly with him despite his frequency of buying the same bouquet every week. So, at least, just this once, she thought. Just this one time she would let herself indulge in this stupid affection of hers toward the man.

However, that thought only lingered for a while, just until Lumine felt the itch that suddenly became unbearable. Eyes widening, she turned around, crouched, and coughed roughly into her hands.

"Sorry," she heaved a sigh after the fit passed, earning a rather concerned look from Childe.

"You okay?"

Lumine nodded quickly. "My throat has been dry lately, but I'll be fine."

She would be fine.

Hopefully.

"Well," Childe folded his arms across his chest, "oursenseihere is quite knowledgeable with traditional medicine and tea."

"It's okay, really. It's just your usual dry throat." The shook of her head, however, still unconvincing to him. Then, as if to change the topic, Lumine picked a tulip from the glass container and gave it to him. "Here, for you."

He shot her a puzzled look. "A tulip?"

"Meaning luck," Lumine shrugged her shoulders lightly, "I'm sure that you're going to need that."

It had several other meanings, but Lumine doubted this man knew anything about floriography, so it should be safe. And it was proven when he just accepted it without questioning it further and gave her another pat on the head. What was it with all the head pats today?

"Thanks,ojou-chan."

A pleasant flutter emerged in her chest when he smiled at her; when she realized that this smile was different from those he gave to other people, even from the one he gave to the scholar. Lumine wanted to yell at herself for letting her feelings gotten the best out of her and force herself to remember that she had zero chance at this.

But then, one could dream, right?

Her eyes twitched a little at the idea and she bit her inner cheek out of frustration.

Keep dreaming, Lumine, and one day it will return right back at you.

But she could not deny that she had fallen for him.

So what was the point in avoiding it?

Lumine shoved the intrusive thought to the back of her head while the hand hidden behind her apron clenched hard. With one last nod to him, she returned to her workstation, cleaning the table and tidying things up. It was unusual for her to do that when she had customers in the shop, but for some reason, she just needed to keep herself busy. This was needed to distract herself from the two men and the thoughts in her head.

And she hoped they would leave.

Maybe the Archon heard her desperate pray and the two men left the shop, but not before the blue-eyed man asked her if he could come here from time to time. Lumine would like to say no, but the affirmation word had escaped her faster than her mind could process it all. Even though she was rewarded with his unguarded smile, she felt like it was her loss.

The sound of the bell once again rang in the now empty shop and Lumine watched as the two men walked away before she let out a big sigh. Gingerly, and almost anxiously, she brought up her clenched fist. Dull pain tickled her when she opened her fist to reveal flower petals in cobalt color.

Five blue petals.

It was two petals too many compared to yesterday.

A dry laugh escaped her as she discarded those petals to the small basket next to the cash register. Her lips curved into a feeble smile as she peered at how the small basket was slowly filled with the blue petals. One of these days, she swore, she would cough out a whole flower if she did not keep her feelings at bay.

And at this rate, Lumine knew she would end up dying.

Notes:

another tribute for the chilumi nation from this breadcrumb thank you for reading! this is a multichapter fic and will be updated irregularly, but i hope i can update it within my own set of time.. anyway, constructive criticisms are welcome and kudos motivates me! please look forward to the next chapter!

the title is referred from a poem by Thomas Gray; Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard.

Chapter 2: cecilia

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter fornotes.)

Chapter Text

Sunlight drifted in through the shop's window, through the gossamer curtains, reflected on the floor of white tiling, and cast a bright glow across the shop area. The potted shrubs of various types became vibrant and refreshing to the sight; as if welcoming the much-needed sunlight with joy and created a quiet and soft air that matched her twin's persona better than hers.

Lumine stood in the doorway, eyes looking at the empty shop with a hint of searching in them. Before long, she sighed and donned her apron, legs carrying her to the rows of the displayed flowers with one last lingering glance to the center of the shop area.

Those eyes fell to a wooden table, and under it were the stools made of the same type of wood. Elmwood, maybe, or was it oak wood? Whichever it was, Lumine could still see the shadow of Aether and her drinking their morning coffee before the shop was open for business.

Sometimes, Aether would sit there with his regulars on one of his slow days, talking about various things that were not always about flowers and his health. Mostly, it would be about his suitor because Aether was one of the eligible bachelors in the area and he had captured the eyes of most grandparents and parents for his gentle and bright nature.

Or at least that was what he wrote to her in his letters with a hint of seeking her help.

A meter away from it was the row of the displayed flowers; tulips, daisies, roses, violetgrass, silk flower, qingxin, even the flowers from Mondstadt such as cecilia, windwheel aster, and calla lily. Back then, Lumine would be the one who provided the flowers from Mondstadt, but now she had to make a special order to Flora to get her hands on it. Lumine could no longer pick it up herself as she now was the one who ran the shop.

On the wall where the sunlight always fell on were various types of dried flowers, hung to serve as both decorations and to preserve the flowers in their most natural shape. Sometimes, Aether would give it to his regulars as a bonus, but more often than not, it stayed as decorations.

It had always been more of an Aether's thing, more to his aesthetics. And needless to say that the whole flower shop was the embodiment of Aether and everything that Lumine was not.

Even now, Lumine still remembered the look he had when his golden eyes swept across the shop area, when he got his first customer, and when those fingers picked up flowers from its container and arranged them into one pretty bouquet.

In Lumine's mind eyes, she could clearly see how Aether smiled through the heap of flowers held gently but firmly in his arms while standing in the middle of the shop in his beige apron, looking brighter than the sun, gentler than the flowers, and just in pure bliss.

Bliss, because he might be looking at the person he loved. Bliss, because he thought that that feeling, that sentiment, would be reciprocated. Bliss, because Aether might have finally found the half of his life in that person.

But he did not.

And Lumine regretted deeply how she had failed to be there for him in his lowest point.

Two months had passed since Aether's funeral and Lumine still carried the guilt like an iron ball chained to her ankles. Even now, as she stared at the empty shop, at the silent dried flowers on the wall, at the empty wooden table, she was burying herself in the meager memories of Aether.

She should not have left for Mondstadt, should not have swallowed Aether's reassuring words wholly, should not have listened to the voices in her head that she needed to find their irresponsible parents who discarded them in the street of Liyue.

All that hatred, all that fury, came clawing back at her in the end, and Aether became the sacrifice for her stubbornness.

And now, all that was left of him was this flower shop and the ever-lingering scent of him around the shop. And a diary, passed to Lumine while Aether was on his last couple of breath away from death. But she kept it tucked on the deepest part of her drawer. Away from her sight, away from her mind, because the sight of a glaze lily was enough to induce her to think of him every now and then.

Lumine was glad that the scholar decided to buy them all yesterday. She would not have to throw them away, either out of animosity or the fact that they had no more value. But now that she was lacking glaze lilies, Lumine felt like she had lacked something important in the shop.

A knock came from her side, from the shop's window, and there was a familiar sight of a person with warm-colored hair, whose blue eyes twinkled in elation despite the lack of lights in them. It made her wonder – how many masks did this person have? Surely she had never seen this one previously.

Lumine gave him an unbothered look, mind still one foot deep in the memory of Aether, and she could not bring herself to curse for his arrival. Yes, she liked him, but it did not mean she wanted to see him every day. It was not good for her health, both figuratively and literally.

The sound of a bell rang loudly in the quiet room, and the man came in bringing much of the cheerfulness that seemed to be rather out of place. Or was he always been like this whenever he was not with the scholar? Lumine knew he was quite playful, but to be this vibrant was unexpected.

"Good morning,ojou-chan," he greeted, eyes crinkled into a crescent moon as he grinned at her.

Lumine continued to rearrange the flowers in its container after changing the water then replied impassively, "The shop is not open yet."

She heard a loud noise scraping against the floor and saw Childe pulling out one of the stools from under the table and proceeded to make himself comfortable there. If Lumine knew no better, she would have asked the man to quit her shop. But she knew he was up for something, and depending on her reaction, it could either affect the shop or not.

"I know," he propped a hand on the table and rested his chin there, "but you'll be on your business mode when the shop is open so it's not good."

Lumine raised an eyebrow, her grip on the glass container almost slipped. "For what?"

She disliked his smile, his twinkles in his eyes, his lingering gaze at her as if fishing out her secrets. Lumine almost snarled at him, but she managed to hold it back. At least, for now, she should hear him out first.

"Oh, nothing too serious," he blinked and the smile deepened.

There was something in his smile that made her weirdly feeling unsettled, but she bravely brushed it away. Placing back the glass container to the floor, Lumine swallowed a sigh and walked to the table, a hand on her hips to give the impression of being unbothered.

"Well, shoot away," she said, almost frowning when Childe's eyes narrowed in interest.

"How did you get so close tosensei?"

And Lumine sighed at the question, no longer feeling the need to tread carefully. She never liked the feeling of having to walk on eggshells, so might as well stomped them all like she usually did.

Her hand pulled another stool from under the table and she sat there, fingers interlaced as she stared dead at him. "Sensei–"

"Zhongli."

Golden eyes blinked at his slight frown. "Yes?"

"Call him Zhongli."

Lumine fought the urge to pull her hair. This man was too possessive even to someone who had yet to belong to him.

The nerve of this man.

But she could not hate him for it. Damn.

"Right," Lumine cleared her throat, "Mister Zhongli is one of our shop's regulars. He always comes to buy glaze lilies. His purchases can be tracked to several months ago and I can show you if it's needed."

Yes, Lumine saw his names several times in the record written by Aether for three months before his passing. And although Lumine was sure the one named Zhongli was the scholar, she was not sure if she could casually call him by his name as they were not closely acquainted. Maybe Aether called him by his name, but it was Aether, and Lumine could not become Aether.

(Even if she wanted to.)

Childe nodded in front of her and Lumine opted to cast her gaze at the traces of circle made by cups that was either wet or too hot on the surface of the table. Back then, she would make a fuss whenever Aether was being careless with the furniture, but even his carelessness was doting-worthy so she could not stay mad at him.

"So, strictly a regular, huh?"

Lumine nodded distractedly. "One of my regulars. Yes."

"What about me?"

She blinked, eyes flew to meet his peering ones and she almost got her breath hitched. Ocean. His eyes were the epitome of the ocean which depth unknown to most, but a home for few. Not hers, of course. She could swim in it, but she could never breathe in it.

"You," Lumine willed herself not to blush at his intense gaze, "are also one of my regulars."

Childe pulled away, hand brushing through his hair as he chuckled. "Well, it was worth the try."

When Lumine tilted her head to the side, she was rewarded with a laugh from him. Really;the nerve of this man.

"Well, if that's the only question you have, then I better open the shop," she got up from her seat, but her wrist was caught in his hand. It burned her, his skin against hers. Yet she could not shake it away.

"Last question, if you will," he said, but this time his smile was absent from his face. "Did you know a person called Aether?"

Her eyes widened, surprise and disbelief and confusion were mixed in them as she pried her hand away from him, clutching it close to her heart as she threw him a look drenched in suspicion.

"Ah, so you know?" Childe chuckled, but the air around him shifted. A little bit colder, almost detached, and untouchable.

For a moment, Lumine had forgotten about his identity and she cursed herself for making that mistake.

"And what if I know?" Lumine dared, mind raking to find if Aether was involved with those people. She found none, but it could be something he never told her. Did he owe them money? Did he get himself into trouble with one of them, with Childe especially?

Childe approached her, and she took a step back. He looked like a predator eyeing his prey, like a feral tiger about to sink its fangs into the wobbly-legged deer. Her back touched the wall and her head was crushing one of the dried flowers as its petals fell to the floor. Glaze lily, she crushed that one, and maybe she would end up being crushed by his hand next.

But that hand landed on her head, brushed her golden locks softly before he grinned once again. "No need to be so tense,ojou-chan. I was just teasing you."

Golden eyes stared at his dark blue ones dumbly, brain still processing the weird turn of events, but her leg made a swift kick to his shin as if in reflex movement. A curse fell from his mouth and Lumine wondered if she could rip those pretty lips out of his face. She hated his smirk, his smile, his laugh.

But she also loved them.

Swallowing the itch, Lumine gave the man who keeled over in pain a warning. "Curiosity killed the cat, Childe. Who knows? Maybe this time it would kill a tiger or even a person."

Her legs made a long stride to the storage area, closing the door behind her with a slam before she slumped against it and to the floor slowly.

What the hell?

Lumine gritted her teeth, a hand fisted her apron so hard it would create an ugly crease later, but she did not care. That man, Childe or Tartaglia or whatever – what was his problem? Sauntering his way to her shop unannounced so early in the morning, asking her questions she would rather not to think much about, and asked her about Aether, her brother, of all things. Aether would never get himself involved with the likes of him. The man was just too pure to be involving himself with the filth that was not the soil for his potted plants.

So, what was the deal, then? How did that man know him?

Sure, Aether was well-known by the people around this part of the city, but surely not enough to attract the attention of one of the Harbingers, right? Even when his funeral was held quietly, away from people's eyes as per her request, it did not stop his name from spreading, huh?

A knock was heard, pulling Lumine out of her messy thoughts into the reality where she saw her nail had turned red. Blood, she realized; she had bitten her nail too hard it was bleeding. The sight of blood, along with the repeated knock on the door behind her reeled in a memory from a month ago that involved her and the man who was behind the door.

"Ojou-chan, I'm sorry," she heard his voice, muffled by the door. "I can take more beatings. You can punch me or kick me more, but please don't ignore me."

Archon, had she fallen for such a brat now? If only this could erase the feeling she had towards him, then she would not hold so much resentment on him. But since it could not, it only added to the resentment that just existed several minutes ago.

Lumine was tempted not to open the door, but she had the shop to run and orders to be made. Reluctantly, she opened the door to see him frowning at her, shoulders slouched, and eyebrows slanted in a way that made him looked like a dog being scolded by his master. She threw him a cold glare and just walked past him to her workstation.

And just like yesterday, he followed after her, only he looked more pitiful, and it was so hard for Lumine to concentrate.

Really, had she grown soft, or was it because of her feelings that she went soft on him?

"Don't you have any work to do?" she asked irritably, hands trimming the stem of a rose and attached it to a thin wire covered by soft pink masking tape.

Childe crouched, head popping on the edge of the table with wide blue eyes staring at her thin fingers as they worked on the flower crown. "Hmm, what kind of work?"

"I don't know," Lumine replied, almost rolling her eyes if she did not have to keep her eyes carefully on the flowers. "Collecting debt, maybe? Or just picking random people on the street for a fight or two."

Anything other than staring at me and making me more self-conscious, really.

"Collected debts two days ago, and picked a fight last Sunday," he recounted, half smiling, before continued, "maybe I could be your assistant today,ojou-chan."

The snort escaped her before she could hold it, but Lumine thought she had everything under control now so it would not hurt. "Rejected," she replied swiftly. "Your hands aren't gentle enough to hold flowers in them."

"Why? Because I fought often?"

"No," Lumine sighed, fingers stopped moving as she stared straight at him, "because you lacked warmth."

After that, it was the longest silence she ever had since his first arrival at her shop. Lumine thought it was not undeserving for him to be told that – he looked warm and cheerful and all, but she knew coldness when she saw it. Detachedness, solitude, insensible; Lumine was familiar with those feelings that she could immediately see it in him during one of his rare moments while waiting for the scholar, Zhongli, in front of her shop.

It was not his face, he had mastered the art of deceiving people with his carefree attitude, and it was not his stance. No. It was when he inhaled the cigar slowly, maybe savoring the bitter and slightly sweet taste of the tobacco and nicotine, and puffed out the grey smoke to the air.

Jaded, she thought he was, but mostly, he was unhinged. A feral beast, forced to don the mantle of a tame house dog, but still dangerous, nonetheless. There was no warmth in him – faking warmth was no easy feat, and she knew it from experience.

A librarian in Mondstadt's public library had mentioned it once to her, and the head of the patrol officer she often stumbled upon in a bar easily uncovered her disguise. The red-haired bartender, too – he might have seen through her during her first visit there, where she got herself almost completely wasted.

Cold, detached, insensible; everything that she was and could never be found in Aether.

A pair of twins they might be, but their personalities opposed each other at the core. If not for their face, one might be surprised to find them as siblings. But ironically, Lumine was glad that it was not the only thing she had in similarity with him.

The disease, apparently she had it too.

Coughing petals, one petal on its earliest symptom, and a whole flower on its latest stage. All because of a stupid emotion, one foolish, petty feeling calledlove. And an unrequited one at that.

A disease stemmed from folklore, a disease that was closer to a myth to scare naughty children away, a disease that was too illogical to be explained by science. But, then again, love was never logical and both she and Aether owned a flower shop so maybe there was some unknown factor from the flowers that triggered it.

That, or maybe she was just trying to find the logical explanation for all this.

The flower crown was finished, and she just needed to wait until her customer, also one of her regulars, come and pick it up. The flower crown was not a part of Liyue's custom, more of Mondstadt's and she was glad Flora taught her during her long stay in Mondstadt. Who knew that entertaining the little girl could help her in the long run?

Lumine tied the two ends of the coil with white ribbons to secure it around the head of the wearer later. But first, she had to try it herself to see if it was lacking somewhere. So she brought the flower crown to the nearby mirror and put it on her head. The baby pink color was somewhat pale on her golden hair, but she was sure it would be lovely for the soon-to-be bride whose hair was the shade of rich brown.

"Maybe blue suits you better,ojou-chan," came a comment from Childe, and Lumine was completely forgotten about his existence in her shop. Well, it was not her fault that she was too absorbed with her work. And he deserved to be ignored too.

But now that she had once again notified about his existence, Lumine had no other way than answering him. "There is no natural blue rose, unfortunately."

Her sarcastic remark fell flat when she saw him once again twirling a blue petal in-between in thumb and index finger. A knot formed in her chest and her stomach churned. Why did it have to be the blue petals that picked his interest among the flowers in her shop?

"Well, these blue petals are pretty," he said, "and you have plenty of it. Did you stain them?"

More like she coughed them out, Lumine thought bitterly, hiding a grimace as she felt the telltale of a certain cough that crept slowly in her throat. Childe smiled at her, one that was different from those smiles earlier that day as he held the petal in her direction and squinted his eyes.

"Blue will go well with you,ojou-chan," he decided with a nod. "And maybe you should smile more. That grim line you have on your lips is not suited with your bright look."

Lumine walked to him, each step followed with a smile that was slowly blooming on her face. When she stopped in front of him, her smile was so full and sweet that it made Childe staggered in his stool. She stared almost sadly at the blue petal before glancing at him.

"Satisfied?"

I, too, have a mask like the ones you wear.

She snatched the petal away and return it to the basket, her smile disappearing and Lumine walked behind the counter to keep away the basket from his reach.

"Next time, it wouldn't end with just that," she muttered, swallowing back a cough as she crouched to open the cabinet and placed the basket there.

"Well, give me something to do, then,ojou-chan," Childe replied and there was zero guilt or whatsoever in his tone.

Lumine straightened herself, eyes glancing at the clock hung above the door before returned to him. "How aboutIask you some questions this time?"

Yes, Lumine thought, she at least deserved that for all he had done to her.

"Fine," the man nodded, "though I get to choose whether to answer it or not. I won't answer if it's related to my line of works."

For starters, Lumine was not interested in his work or whatever that was related to the Harbingers. But by saying that, it was clear to her that he would not answer her question about Aether. Cunning, was not he?

"Not that I want to know about it either," she shrugged and shifted her leverage to her left leg and leaned to him like she did yesterday. "How didyouknow Mister Zhongli?"

Unexpectedly, and quite surprisingly, he leaned into her and their eyes met. Lumine felt like his gaze was looking at something in her, maybe searching for any hidden intention that generated her question. She doubted he would find it – if he did, then there was no need for her to conceal her feelings for him.

Perhaps it was because she did not flinch or feel bothered by it that Childe finally pulled away. Lips tugged into a soft smile as his eyes rested on whatever behind her, seeing her but also avoiding her. Again, Lumine noticed, his mask slipped away so easily whenever it came to that man. Gone was the once feral, unhinged man who threatened her silently with his overwhelming aura. He was reduced to a normal man whenever that man was involved.

"Ah, how do I say it," he scratched his cheek and Lumine raised an eyebrow.

"Weird encounter?"

Or a fateful encounter?

Orange hair bounced slightly as Childe shook his head. "No, well, maybe?"

Lumine almost snorted at him. He sounded strangely like a maiden in love. "Well?"

"I paid forsensei'slunch since he forgot to bring money and the line behind me was getting too long," he recounted. "We ended sharing the table and he invited me to his teahouse."

"Teahouse?" she repeated questioningly.

"Senseiused to be a doctor, but he retired early and now he runs a small teahouse."

Ah, Lumine could imagine. A scholar, indeed, but to be retiring so early was a waste. She should not judge because he might have his reasons, but if he was a doctor, maybe he knew one or two things about her disease. Or at least she could try to ask him if he knew anyone who studied her disease and found the cure.

Maybe she should go visit the teahouse on her day off.

"I'm planning to visit him today," Childe said suddenly, breaking the train of thought in Lumine's head. "Maybe you want to join us?"

She smirked at this. "Wouldn't want to be the third wheel now. Did you no longer regard me as your rival?"

"Oh?" he hummed, returning the smirk and Lumine willed her heart to beat normally to no avail. "I thought I have warned you to keep your paws off?"

"Mister Zhongli is a fine man," she reasoned, "it wouldn't be weird for me to fall for him, would it?"

Whatever intensity Childe held in his eyes was gone in an instant. Blue eyes breaking their contact with hers as he rose from his seat and turned around. His back faced her, broad shoulders looked lonely and he dug his fingers deep into his orange hair, the color of the dusk in Liyue as the sun sunk in the horizon of the ocean.

Somehow, there was a subtle air of muted hopelessness that betrayed his confidence and cheerfulness that he brought to the shop. Right now, Lumine felt like she was looking at him for truly who he was; no mask covering him, only his somewhat lonely back conveying the unspoken words to her. It was barely twenty-four hours since they got acquainted with each other and it surprised her how she had made herself one step closer, deeper to him.

It was not good. Lumine did not need more proximity or encounter with him. She should not have asked about the scholar, should have continued to ignore him because the itch started to worsen now.

"Kidding," she said at last and Childe turned to her. "I have my eyes on another man, so don't worry, Childe."

But betraying her own heart was not an easy thing to do. Even now, she still found herself saying how she loved him and no other.

"Ojou-chanyou scared me for a second there," he laughed, pulled the stool back to the wooden table in the middle, and sat there. "Honestly,senseiwould match better with you than I do."

This time, she snorted. "Mister Zhongli is too much of a gentleman for me," Lumine said with a small smile. "I have a bad preference for a man. A very bad one."

"Who–"

The familiar sound of the bell had Lumine automatically turned her head to the door. Standing there was the woman who made her appointment to pick up her flower crown.

"Welcome, Miss Goldet," Lumine gave her a smile, holding up a hand to Childe as a sign that they should continue their chat later. "I have your flower crown ready. Would you like to try it first?"

The woman returned her smile and nodded. "It's so pretty," she said once she saw it and got herself blushing when she looked at her image in the mirror.

"Congratulation on your engagement," Lumine smiled as she said that.

"Thank you, Lumine, but honestly, I thought you were still in Mondstadt," the woman glanced at her through the mirror.

She almost flinched at that and could only hope that Childe did not hear anything as they were a good distance away from him. "I've finished my business there, so I should return," was all she could muster.

"Hmm," Goldet hummed as she stole a peek at Childe who rested his chin on his hand, looking at anything but them. "Got yourself a boyfriend already?"

"N–No!" Archon, she hated how she squeaked at that. "He's not my boyfriend, he's one of my regulars."

The mischievous gleam in the older woman, however, betrayed her words. "Fine, I believe you, dear."

Lumine sighed, forcing herself to calm down before she returned to the cash register to process Goldet's purchase. The woman left the shop with one last wink and Lumine could only hope she did not spread any misleading rumors to her peers. Archon knew how fast a gossip could travel through the women's circle and Lumine did not want to be featured in it.

"An engagement, huh?" Lumine heard the man's mumble as he turned to her. "So, who is the man?"

She put her index finger to her chin, trying to remember who the man who Verr Goldet got engaged with. "Oh, he's the owner of the famous Wangshu Inn–"

"Not hers," he cut her quickly, giving her a pointed stare, "yours."

Lumine felt her breath hitched. A lump formed in her throat and stomach twisted in a way that would make her blanch if Lumine did not school her face immediately. She sighed heavily and gave him almost a defeated smile before she walked away from behind the counter.

How should she describe him?

"I knew him just recently," she started, ignoring the yell in her head that urged her to brush it away and opted to pick up a glass container filled with cecilias instead. "Maybe somewhere around a month ago, or a month and a half. He's a trouble magnet, I'm sure, and sometimes he visits here."

There. She crossed her fingers behind the glass container; if this man was dense enough, then he would not notice how uncanny the description she made about the man to him. But he did not comment, only silently urging her to continue. Lumine swallowed the lump away.

"But he likes someone else."

That sentence got Childe groaning. "Really, now?Ojou-chan, how did you know he likes someone else?"

"He said it himself," she laughed to ease the cough that threatened to escape. "So, I think I should just give up."

She should. She better gave up or the stupid disease would end up taking her life the way it did to Aether. But Lumine was stubborn at heart – she did not want to.

A love that killed, Lumine mused inwardly, how cliche. In a way, she felt like she was playing Romeo and Juliet, but instead of having Romeo dying together with Juliet, she was dying alone. As if her life was not tragic enough.

"Did the guy confessed already to the girl?" he asked.

Who said it was a girl?

"Not yet. In fact, he's pretty much of having zero chance as well."

Lumine avoided his eyes and glanced to the white cecilias in her hug instead. His peering gaze might expose her if she was not careful enough. True, she had nothing to lose if it were exposed, but she would rather bury it within herself than confessing it to him. Rejections were not something she could take well, after all.

"He's so painfully close," Lumine whispered, eyes drawn shut as she leaned into the cecilias, "yet he's also unreachable. So high above me, like these cecilias."

Childe was unreachable, almost like the qingxins or cecilias – always existed in some higher ground, far away from her reach. She could reach it, yes, but the chance of her slipping off the cliff was higher so it was her life she bet on.

"But you have those cecilias in your arms," he said, stood from his seat and approached her. He stopped right next to her before adding, "Surely it won't be long until you can have him in your grasp."

Golden eyes peeked through the cecilias, noticing the absence of any teasing smile or mischievous gleam in his ocean eyes. Rather, his lips formed a grim line as if he truly understood her. Lumine wanted to laugh if not for her miserable mood.

"I can touch him, yes, but I can never have his heart within my hands. So, what is the point?"

Childe said nothing. A hand that gently brushed her head, her golden hair, felt somehow both warm and prickling in her chest. Lumine's hold on the glass container tightened as she buried her face deeper into the cecilias. They both stood there for a while, with Childe's hand continuously brushing her soft locks and Lumine did not let go of the cecilias, ignoring the flutter in her chest and the itch in her throat.

Sometimes, Lumine wished she could just disappear silently, like those dandelion seeds blown by the wind. Sometimes she just wished how at least this feeling could suddenly disappear once she woke up in the morning. But maybe it was meant to be like this; to love someone so much that it blinded them, maybe that role was reserved for Lumine.

Blind and deprived of physical touch from the one she loved – Lumine was stuck in the cycle of longing and regretting.

And she savored it with all of her.

Notes:

hello, thank you for reading! depending on where you are, either you end 2020 or start 2021 with this angsty fic... anyway, thank you for the support for this fic I'm so surprised that people like it ahaha.. as usual, give me any constructive criticism and kudos and comments literally makes me swoon! please look forward to the next chapter

PS. so cecilia means 'blind' in Latin and you can find me on twitter xxccxy

Chapter 3: peony

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter fornotes.)

Chapter Text

The addition of warm orange color in her shop, which did not come from any of the displayed flowers, slowly became a familiar sight in Lumine's eyes.

At first, his presence felt like a sore thumb. Childe stood out in a way that was so out of place, abrupt, and just did not fit well amidst the colorful flowers. Perhaps it was because the shop gave away the peaceful and gentle feeling, while Childe was anything but. Or maybe it was just a stubborn part of hers that refused to accept his existence in the same room to protect her feelings from swelling.

But six days had passed and Lumine grew accustomed to his presence, accustomed to the way he sat quietly on the stool with his back facing the front door, accustomed to his voice that echoed in the quiet shop. His profile graced Lumine every time she stood behind the cash register and she could feel his lingering gaze on her whenever she worked on her workstation.

(She also grew accustomed to the feeling of spoiling herself by taking a glance at him whenever he looked away.)

As of now, Lumine could not deny that the addition of another person in her shop became a pleasant thing. She also could not deny how lonely it was whenever she worked there alone; her eyes were constantly searching for a golden-haired male of her age before its aim changed to a certain ginger-haired man.

And later, Lumine learned that Childe was a persistent man.

Despite her refusal of talking to him on the first few days of his visit, he kept coming like he had no better things or works to do. It was an understatement, though. She knew he was, at least, a responsible man who had his work done before or after his visit to her shop.

It was not hard to guess it. Lumine started to see some pattern of his random visit. From what she gathered, if he came in the morning, then he would leave before the afternoon, and if he came in the afternoon or even evening, he must have his work done already by the time he came. However, he never stayed the whole day in the shop for reasons unknown.

Not that she wanted to know about it too.

(She wanted to, but nothing good would come out if she troubled herself with a Harbinger.)

And that was not all.

If Childe came in the morning, he would deliberately invite himself to join her morning coffee routine after laying out slices of bread or pastries he bought on the way. Lumine would be thankful for the treat if not for the fact that it was followed by him staring hole at her as she drank her coffee quietly. The man would say nothing and just grinned at her when asked.

Then, if he came in the afternoon or evening, he would come bringing food for dinner together. And somehow,somehow, he always came with her favorite food. A pure coincidence it must be, but a part of Lumine still fluttered from it.

At first, it annoyed her and Lumine felt somewhat indebted to the way he brought food for her. Her refusal, however, fell on deaf ears because Childe would drag her to the table in the center of her shop, untie her apron, and force her to sit and eat.

Someway or another, Childe had become something like a caretaker for her, which she refused to acknowledge because shewasan adult and shecouldtake care of herself.

That, until one day she slipped out the fact that she only ate once a day and that was at lunch. For breakfast, she would have her coffee, maybe some milk biscuits as well if Lumine did not forget to buy it. And as for dinner… well mostly, she skipped it because she was not feeling it or she would have an apple at most. It had become some sort of a routine for her since two months ago, so Lumine never thought that it was lacking.

It earned her a deep frown from the man who, then, proceeded to bring her food whenever he came by.

Which was every day.

Days passed, a couple of morning coffee together and dinner for two passed, and now Lumine could barely stop herself from accepting the kind gesture from the man. Suspicion had long gone, and the addition of him in the quiet shop somehow managed to pull her to the direction that was certainly better than drowning in the remembrance of Aether.

In a way, Childe kept her afloat. And even though Lumine was drowning in the unstoppable feelings she had for him, his presence there kept her breathing. Though it was such an irony of how Lumine kept on choking on those blue petals when she used him as her breathing support.

Maybe, one of these days, she would cough out a flower and even that would not faze her.

Lumine let out a snort at her crude joke. But it was true because coughing out a whole flower was the latest stage of the disease. She knew what came after she coughed one and it was the final verdict.

Because it was what happened to Aether.

A stray memory came to the surface of her mind at the thought, popping like a soap bubble, and a scene played out on its own.

"Forgive me, Lumi, for keeping my feelings instead of throwing them away."

Aether had said that when she returned to Liyue to find him already so weak in his bed. Ragged breath, pale face, cold sweat – Lumine knew he was dying.

But his grip on her wrist beat her into calling for help, and so did his weak smile and the subtle shake of his head. Then he coughed badly and a beautiful, vibrant-colored flower fell from his mouth. Lumine remembered how her eyes widened at the sight, face drained of all color, breath hitched, and heartbeat drumming noisily in her ears. But Aether only chuckled weakly as he gazed at the flower wistfully.

"I don't want to throw away those memories. I don't want to forget anything. Even if the love is unrequited, even if I became sick from keeping it."

Selfish brother.

Lumine could vividly recall how she spat those two words out amidst streams of tears that fell on Aether's clothes as she kneeled by his bedside. Because it infuriated her, because she did not understand why, because she was mad at herself. And Aether, in all his kindness and gentleness, simply smiled at her.

"I have no regret, Lumi."

Lumine did not understand why Aether refused to get help or why he did not even tell her until the last minute, until the last couple breaths away.

But all was in the past. He had passed away peacefully, leaving behind the flower he coughed, the petals of the same color of the flower in the very basket Lumine used, and the small flower shop that was a part of him. And Lumine – she took care of all of them.

She sucked a deep breath quickly, eyes finally seeing the object in her hands rather than the vivid memory of Aether as he passed quietly, almost peacefully in his bed, with a pristine flower in his hands. Golden eyes blinked slowly, quietly, taking in the depth of blue color that seemed to be capturing her in another trance.

Blue petals in the basket. Blue petals. Her petals in all their glory of her unrequited feelings, her hopeless yearning, her stupid love.

They almost filled the basket, almost reaching two-thirds of the height of the basket, and Lumine knew she was running out of time. But it was expected. Lumine knew that it was inevitable. Childe's daily visit, while it helped her to distract her mind from wandering down memory lane, made her coughing out flower petals more frequent.

Her hand begrudgingly shoved the basket of petals back into the cabinet and walked back to the wooden table where two cups of coffee sat quietly. Its steam was ever-flowing, like an endless gauze woven into the open space that slowly dissipated. Two cups of coffee, whether it was for her and Aether or her and Childe, Lumine did not know. All she knew was that she kept on making two cups of coffee every day, even if in the end she would have to drink it herself.

Maybe that was the reason why Childe invited himself into her morning coffee breakfast. The man just could not see an idle cup of coffee, it seemed.

An hour passed, and then two, and then two and a half, but the blue-eyed man did not come. Lumine thought he would come in the morning today, but then she glanced at the calendar and realized that today was Wednesday.

Wednesday afternoon, same meeting place, same meeting time – today was Childe's weekly meeting with Zhongli.

Or weekly date, if she dared say.

Lumine did not know how the cutter managed to graze her fingertip, and she felt the pain one second too late. The greeting card for a bouquet under her hand, with happy wishes written in calligraphic handwriting, was smeared with the red liquid. Her eyes stared at the budding blood before it dropped to the card, creating another red mark on the white card.

"Well, it's ruined now," she said to no one, index finger brought to her lips and she sucked on the wound. "Good job, Lumine."

A sigh escaped her, then she went to the sink to wash away the remnant of blood and fished a band-aid from a box next to the sink. The plaster felt weird around her skin, too tight around her fingertip, but Lumine brushed it off. Another greeting card flipped out from the drawer and she wrote the congratulatory words again.

Congratulation on tying the knot. May the years ahead be filled with lasting joy.

It was such a simple congratulatory, but Verr Goldet would be happy once she read it. Tomorrow was the woman's wedding, a good one week away from her engagement day, and it would be held in the Wangshu Inn. Lumine was invited to the wedding, but–

She glanced again to the calendar, eyeing the small red mark on tomorrow's date.

–she had another agenda she could not miss tomorrow.

The bride also ordered a bouquet in the place of the flower ball so Liyue's tradition could be done without harming anyone. Lumine made a mental note to make the bouquet in the evening so the bride's mother could pick it up first thing in the morning on the next day.

The greeting card was slipped into its holder in between the soft colored flowers – pink, white, lilac – before Lumine placed it into a box and secured the box with brown ribbon. Somehow, she started to get the hang of making bouquets; faster flower arrangement, heightened sense of aesthetic, and nimble fingers to shape the paper and tie the ribbons neatly.

Lumine started to wonder if this was what Aether did by himself during her absence.

Not now. Not again. Stop remembering.

As expected, the girl sighed inwardly, when that man was not around, she was bound to drift back to the past.

She opted to eye the ribbon tied around the flower box. It was a little bit crooked now that she saw it again. She should re-tie it before her customer came to pick it up.

The gentle jingle of the bell rang just when she finished re-tying the ribbon. Lumine greeted the customer, eyes still focused on the ribbon, ready to lift the flower box to bring it to her customer, but a voice beat her into it.

"Nice place you have here, miss."

Whoa.

Lumine blinked and whipped her head to see the man she had seen numerous times back in Mondstadt. A beautiful blue eye that matched his long blue hair was always quite the sight to see. At first glance, he did not look like he belonged to the Knight of Favonius, let alone being their captain.

(It surprised her, too, when she first arrived in Mondstadt and bumped into him.)

"Well," she drawled out, the edge of her lips tugged upward slightly, a hand resting on her hips. "To what pleasure do I owe your visit?"

The man stopped in front of the counter, one visible eye studying the interior of the shop with a little bit of a smirk that did not cease. Lumine almost winced at the slow chuckle and words that followed it. "No offense, Lumine, but I believe this is notyou."

"You didn't answer me," a sigh escaped her, "Sir Kaeya, what are you doing here in Liyue?"

The head of the patrol officer leaned against the counter, a hand lifted a bouquet she did not realize he brought. "Just accompanying the Acting Grand Master for a diplomatic-related work. Also – this."

Lumine stepped away from the workstation, eyeing the bouquet of orange flowers he held out to her.

"Windwheel aster?"

"So the wind will carry the heartfelt thoughts to his place," he replied. Lumine fought a flinch as she received the bouquet. "That's what she said, I'm just her messenger."

"Miss Jean?"

"Lisa too, and Amber, and Barbara," he listed. Then, Kaeya pushed another bouquet, smaller this time, to her. "And this one is from me."

Lumine laughed lightly and shot him a look. "Pansy?"

Meaning 'think of me'. The light purple pansies with dark purple color in the middle were wrapped in a subtle pink paper and ribbons. She thought it was very Kaeya-like to give her this.

"You didn't change," she mused aloud, walking to the shelf where the collection of vases was displayed, picked the small one, and filled it with water. "Still the same flirt as you are back then."

"Well, it's only been two months," Kaeya shrugged his shoulders, one eye watched as she tugged the ribbon and peeled the paper wrapping from the small bouquet. "Though, I can't say the same to you."

"Really?" Lumine put the pansies inside the container and placed them on the center of the wooden table. Her eyes flew to meet his, then.

Kaeya studied her. "You look…"

"Tired?"

"No," he shook his head slowly, an eyebrow rose questioningly. "Sick."

An unamused noise in the form of a snort escaped her. Lumine leaned back to the table, waist bumping the edge of the table, arms folded across her chest, and eyes wandering to the wall decorated with dry flowers, focusing on the shadows behind each flower. As expected from Kaeya; even just a short meeting of their eyes could let him read her.

Lumine was sick, yes, and in more than just one way.

"I may be am," was her only reply, mildly relieved at the neutral tone in her voice, before she turned to him. "Want coffee?"

"Thank you, but I'm still on the clock." Kaeya pushed himself away from the counter and walked to her. A gloved hand fell on her head, brushing her hair in a way that reminded her of how Childe did it days ago. "And unfortunately, I have to return now."

Lumine shoved the memory away. "Give my regards to everyone."

"I will," he chuckled and strode to the door, hand already on the handle when he stopped to glance back at her. "Ah, yes. I got a message from the bar master."

Lumine blinked. "Master Diluc?"

"Drink in moderation, he said," Kaeya threw her a smirk upon seeing her confused look. "Take care. Don't slack off now."

The door closed with a jingle of the bell before she could retort back at his casual teasing and only then Lumine realized there were two bottles of wine sitting on the counter. Dandelion Wine, Mondstadt's special brew. She let out a defeated laugh at the bouquets and wine.

They did really knew her.

Maybe that was what she got for staying for almost half a year in Mondstadt. New friends, new experiences, and zero lead to their parents' whereabouts. Those gifts; she knew they were all to prepare for what would come tomorrow.

Tomorrow was a big day. A day that perhaps could never be passed as long as she lived. But today was not tomorrow. Not yet.

Lumine still had some mini flower bouquets to make, logs to write, flowers to sort out. Lumine did not need to be drowned in the sentimentality of the morrow's event. As if the lingering mixed feelings was not enough for her to be drowned already.

(It was more,morethan enough. Lumine was sick of it.)

She put away the bottles of wine and windwheel aster bouquet to her living space behind the shop. When she returned to the shop area, her eyes noticed the existence of a man with orange hair, standing with the other man in front of her shop. A glance at the clock got her thinking about how punctual both were.

Not even a minute was wasted for each other.

How nice.

Eyes like molten gold silently watched the bright smile Childe gave Zhongli, while the older man returned it with his usual soft smile. They immediately entered their own world, forgetting the fact that they were still standing in front of her shop as Childe rambled whatever story he had been saving for a whole week.

There was a pang of envy, ugly jealousy that ensnared her, making her rooted on the spot, like a growing ivy that slowly crept from her feet to her waist, to her torso, and wrapped itself around her neck.

Lumine barely remember to breathe as she saw a wide grin broke from the blue-eyed man. Bright, free, light. This Childe was different from when he stared at her, when he talked to her, when he stole a bite from her dinner, when he was with her.

Look at me.

Pathetic.

Look at me.

(How long will you continue to hope?)

She knew better than to hope, knew better than to hold onto her stupid feelings, knew better than to keep believing that perhaps, one day, he would look at her the way she looked at him.

This jealousy that she felt… Lumine hated the fact that she was capable of having such an ugly feeling. But she yearned for him, and as much as she wanted to deny it, it was undeniable. Was it normal to feel this way? Such an ugly feeling of jealousy – was Aether tormented with this too when he was alive?

If it was the case… then maybe she understood why he would not let go of his love.

Because she was not going to either.

Painful as it was, she held it strongly within her because it was…

Hey, Childe, I'm over here. Look at me.

…it was the only thing she had now.

"Haa–"

Lumine felt an itch in her throat, a sense of her chest constricting as if the ivy had wrapped itself tightly around her, not allowing her to breath, and crept inside her throat. The itch was unbearable, but then–

Childe glanced at her way and waved, making the other man followed his line of sight. Lumine lifted a hand to return the wave, lips painstakingly tugged upward into an awkward smile.

A fake smile, all just to hide the ugly jealousy. But then, she realized something; Lumine never did once smiled at him out of her own free will, nor did she ever return any of his gesture. Childe was a sharp person, and,shit, he might notice it.

But then, he smiled at her, the same one he gave to Zhongli.

And it was all it took for her to choke on the ivy, on the blue petals that rose with such urgency from her chest. Lumine coughed roughly, heavily into her apron as she hastily turned away, crouching behind the counter to contain them.

It was painful, always been painful. Her throat, her lungs, her chest, even her heart – everything down from her throat to her chest hurt. There was a brief sense of relief when the fit passed, but the hot sensation lasted long, like a fire burning everything in her respiratory tract.

She wondered if her throat would be injured from how hard her coughs were, or if she would cough out blood together with the petals. Lumine did not know. She had only seen Aether coughed a flower once before he passed away. There was no blood there.

Or maybe he had been drained of it in the first place.

Unbidden tears fell at the sheer pain and Lumine quickly wiped them away, hands grasping,crushingthe soft flower petals she coughed out, and she tried to even out her breathing.

Calm down, Lumine. Deep breath.

But it was burning inside her. It hurt, hot, heavy. Each inhales she took felt like it was not enough for her lungs, as if the oxygen was barely present in the air.

Her head was buried in her hand, eyes closed shut to somehow soothe the pain. Just as she was able to breathe normally, a hand touched her shoulder.

And it felt scorching.

A gasp, followed by a raspy shriek, came from her. She scooted away from where she crouched, eyes blurry from tears, and she hid her left hand, the one that crushed the blue petals, behind her back. A blob of orange, someone was crouching across her, while another person with a dark brown color scheme stood behind him.

Lumine let out a shaky exhale, tears rolling down her cheek and it made her sight clear. But, Archon, she wanted to disappear when her brain processed what her eyes saw.

Childe was crouching, blue eyes thick in worry and surprise, face lost its vibrant smile, and lips set in a grim line. A hand was hovering, perhaps the one that touched her, thatscorchedher, and he let it fall to his side a moment later. Behind him stood Zhongli, face as impassive as she remembered, but she could see the subtle perplexity from the way he looked at her.

Dear Archon, she made them worry.

Did they see the petals…?

Lumine cleared her throat, wiped away the tears that seemed to be unwilling to stop falling, and pushed herself to stand. It was hard to breathe again, but she could not make them suspecting her. She brushed off the invisible dust from her apron in the hope to gain some sense of composure before turned to them.

"I'm fine, no need to worry." Good, her tone was even albeit a little bit hoarse. "Uh, I can fix you a bouquet of glaze lily, Childe."

She walked away to the rows of flowers, not giving him the chance to answer her. But Lumine had forgotten that she ran out of glaze lilies since last week. Pressing her lips together, left hand deep in the pocket of her skirt, Lumine turned to them with an awkward smile.

"Sorry, I… forgot that I haven't restocked them," her awkward laugh was so out of her character, but what could she do? Her mind had plummeted into a panic mess since she saw Childe appearing in front of her.

Please let them be unaware of the petals…

"You should rest," came a deep voice she usually heard only once in a while. The scholar, the former doctor, stepped forward and Lumine almost made one step back. She did not know why, but she did.

Amber eyes met golden eyes. He reached out a hand and placed it on her forehead.

"You have no fever, that is good," he murmured then continued, "Close the shop early and get plenty of rest. Please see a doctor if the cough worsens, Lumine."

Her breath hitched. Lumine never introduced herself, so how did he know her name? Was it Childe?

No, even Childe never called her by her name. She even doubted he knew her name. It had always been the usual 'ojou-chan' from him, no more and no less.

Then, how?

Amidst the torrent of thoughts, she could barely muster a nod and croaked out a small reply. "Yes, sir."

He watched her for the last time before nodded. "Very well."

Ah, again – that small smile. That one smile he gave her last week upon watching her making the bouquet. There was a sense of safety, or maybe reassurance, in there. Lumine quickly bowed her head as not to stare at him openly and being rude to her customer.

Somehow, Lumine felt like she was a child in front of Zhongli.

The scholar exited the shop, followed by Childe who kept on glancing her way, which she ignored as she pretended to be tending the displayed flowers. Once the sound of the bell rang in her shop, she flipped the close sign hung on the door and pulled the gossamer curtain so it covered the shop's window. Lumine made a call for her customer who ordered the bouquet that she would be closing early and that she would deliver the bouquet tomorrow. Only after that Lumine allowed herself to fall to her knees, tears falling in uncontrollable muted sobs.

She did not know what were those tears for or why did they fell. The only thing she knew was that she wanted to cry, even if it meant she had to push aside her pride.

Jealousy still rooted deep inside her, the scorch lingered on her shoulders, the stinging pain was raw in her throat. The shadow of the potted plants standing near the window gradually lengthened and the bright yellow sunlight became orange.

Dusk came, and Lumine cradled herself as she sat slumped on the cold floor. In her left hand were six crumpled blue petals, while her other hand pressed a palm to her forehead.

Lumine had wasted hours just for a meaningless cry.

Swollen eyes glanced over to the clock and she just realized how she skipped her lunch. Maybe she fell asleep in the middle of her cry, but even if she did, the exhaustion did not fade. Lumine did not remember much, so she just settled with the idea of falling asleep through it.

Her legs had fallen asleep too, apparently, and she teetered her way to the counter, discarding those petals into the basket, then to her living space after the difficulty of standing. She pulled out a slice of bread and a jam and started stuffing her empty stomach. Archon knew she still had some things to do this evening; the mini flower bouquets, Verr Goldet's flower bouquet, and boutonniere would not make itself.

But first, Lumine had to do something with her swollen eyes. It was too distracting to be ignored and she could barely see well because of the heaviness.

A compress of cold water should do. Fifteen minutes each, or maybe ten because she preferred to start working if she wanted to properly eat the dinner she had yet to prepare.

Of course, the cold compress could only do so much but at least it was better. It was not so visible and the heaviness was mostly gone. Lumine could work with this.

That, but then a knock on the shop's window startled the life out of her. A shadow was seen through the curtain, but Lumine was not expecting a guest or customer around this time. She should have known, but still, some things always came unexpectedly.

Childe came bringing food and Lumine did not know if this was a blessing or a curse.

"You okay now,ojou-chan?" His question came as soon as she let him in.

"I am," she replied tersely.

She closed the door and walked back to her workstation, about to continue her half-done mini bouquets when his hand caught her wrist. It scorched, but Lumine let it be. Maybe it was all just in her head – the scorch, the cry, the exhaustion – and that she was just being a fool.

"Dinner first," he said sternly, another hand tugged the ribbon of her apron. "I know you haven't had anything since this afternoon."

Lumine glanced to the flowers sitting in the glass container then back at him. She hoped he did not notice her slightly red eyes. And just like he always did, Lumine let him drag her to the wooden table after pulling her out of the apron.

They sat across each other with Childe opening the package of the food he brought and Lumine tried her best not to fidget. The scent of rich onion and ginger filled the space as the lid was opened, and the sight of bamboo shoots and meat came to her view.

This was new.

The steam was thick, as if it had just been cooked, although Lumine never knew anyone around here who sold it. Bamboo shoot soup, it had been a long time since she had one.

"Eat up," Childe said and Lumine glanced at him questioningly at the lack of his portion. "I've had dinner earlier if that's what you're wondering."

But Lumine was not going to eat alone. "I'll brew you a coffee," she said as she stood, "or tea. Whichever you prefer."

"Coffee, then. I've had a few cups too much of tea today."

Right. The date.

Lumine left without saying anything and returned with a cup of coffee. She set it down in front of him while taking her seat, eyeing the steaming hot meal before taking a spoonful of it.

It almost burned her tongue, but the taste beat it – it tasted just like the one she used to have with Aether. Another spoonful into her mouth and she confirmed it. The nostalgic taste somehow managed to lighten her mood.

"It's good, isn't it?" The man asked, blue eyes full of elation which she did not know where it came from.

"It is," Lumine answered in a murmur and smiled at the picture of her and Aether eating it in her mind. "It is."

"Gotta have to thanksensei, then," he chuckles after sipping his coffee. "He made it just for you."

The raised spoon was stopped midair. "Mister Zhongli?"

And Childe shot her a look. "Be proud,ojou-chan.Senseidoesn't make it just for anyone."

"Well, you had it too, didn't you?" Besides, it was nothing to be so proud of. It was just food, after all.

"I didn't."

Lumine blinked. The spoon once again stopped midair, near her mouth. "You didn't?"

"No," he sighed, eyeing the soup with jealousy. "That's why I told you to be proud."

That was pleasantly odd. Lumine knew he was a regular of her shop, even when Aether was here, he already became a regular. But to cook her a dish himself? It was too much for her. She did not deserve this kind of treatment.

"We should split this," Lumine said, and before Childe could say anything, she added, "it's too much for me to eat alone. And I still have some works to do."

Blue eyes shifted from her to her background, probably eyeing the flowers and clutters she had on her station. "More works in the evening?"

"I… rested this afternoon as per Mister Zhongli's suggestion," Lumine avoided his eyes when they returned to stare at her, "so I haven't worked on tomorrow's orders."

He chuckled, a warm voice bounced in the quiet shop and Lumine secretly let herself be at ease with that voice. A hand reached to her head, about to brush her hair, but she stood to get another bowl and spoon. Enough burn today. Any more than what she had taken might render her crashing.

Lumine poured half of the soup into the new bowl, transferring the meats and the pieces of bamboo shoots to it, and only left her portion a little. She had little to no appetite tonight, but no food should go wasted. Especially something this good.

"Did you get this from that person?"

Her head lifted, golden eyes traced the length of his arm that made its way to the center of the table. His fingers touched the purple pansies, making them sway in its vase.

"That person who?" she returned the question. It was either Lumine tried to pretend she did not understand or she tried to coerce him into more vocal about his question. Though she should not have any reason to do that.

"The blue-haired man," Childe said, his tone was steady, as if her answer would not matter.

Well, it would not matter and Lumine certainly should not have any reason to pretend.

"Yes."

Lumine could feel his lingering gaze as she took one last spoonful of the soup with lowered eyes. She knew he was curious by nature, she learned that fast, but Lumine was not in the mood to play along with his jokes or teasings now. She did not have enough energy to put up with that, both physically and mentally.

But, of course, everything could not go as she wished because, then, he said, "Is he the one you like?"

A small sigh escaped her. "You know, Childe – curiosity killed the cat."

"Yes," he laughed, perhaps reminded of a memory where she kicked his shin last week, "but satisfaction brought it back. Convenient, right?"

Lumine stood, donned her apron. "You know the full saying now."

"Of course,senseitaught me, after all."

"Should have known," was her only reply before she went behind her workstation, continuing where she left off.

A mini flower bouquet consisted of two red dahlias and another one that consisted of two gerberas were done, leaving her with the last one of two soft pink roses.

Lumine cut the white wrapping paper, aligned the flowers on top of that, wrapped the paper around its lower stem, and gave it a pinch. It immediately created a nice silhouette before she secured the wrapping paper with a pink and white ribbon. She set it aside and moved on to the next order.

"Ojou-chan, you didn't answer me," came his whine as he dragged the stool to the workstation and sat across her. "So, is he?"

Lumine pretended not to hear that as she looked at the flowers on the table. Twelve white peonies, already trimmed off of their leaves, lie across the table. She picked up two, aligned them together before added white astilbe to enhance its elegant appearance. Another peony and astilbe and peony. Aligning them was tricky, but it would be beautiful once it was done correctly.

"No comment," she finally answered after she secured the alignment of the flowers with a tape. Her hand reached for the wide ribbon in white color and cut quite a length of it. The ribbon then wrapped along the length of the flower stem and secured by small needles pierced into the stem.

"Fine," she heard him sigh. "Then what are you working on now?"

Finally, Lumine thought inwardly, a question she preferred to answer.

"A wedding bouquet," she put away the white bouquet then took another peony and astilbe, cut the stem short, and aligned them, "and a boutonniere."

She saw him leaned in through the corner of her eyes, as if he took interest in it. "What flowers are those?"

"Peony," her eyes never stray from her work, but she wondered if he showed the same interest on his face as his voice sounded to be. "Meaning 'happy marriage'."

And that was not all. Good fortune, prosperity, honor, compassion, and bashfulness. It was a perfect flower for every wedding; a delicate and elegant flower with beautiful meanings.

"Will you marry me?"

Lumine flinched, almost dropped the boutonniere and her head whipped to look at him. In return for her shocked gaze, he stared at her with one eyebrow raised. "Isn't that how a man proposes a woman? Or is it any different custom here in Liyue?"

"It's a standard one," Lumine, despite the pounding heartbeat in her ears, at least managed to choke out an even reply. Her fingers were stiff and she forced her eyes to return to the boutonniere.

Just a little bit more, hang in there.

And she was finished. Lumine placed the bouquet and the boutonniere inside the box and secured it with a pink ribbon. Finally, done at last.

Lumine would have stretched if not for the presence of this man. She removed her apron, hang it on the clothes hanger, and placed the mini flower bouquets and the flower box behind the counter.

"Ojou-chan, have you ever think of marrying someone?"

Such a random question, Lumine thought inwardly.

"I don't know," her reply was quick, "haveyou?"

"I don't know," and Childe mimicked her, much to her annoyance. "With my line of work, it's hard to find one who takes a genuine interest in me."

But I do, Childe. Gladly. Willingly. Foolishly.

Her legs carried her back to the wooden table and she made her seat again. "Well, why don't you quit?"

Childe laughed and it surprised her. The dryness in there was what made her feel so. It lacked in joy or humor, as if the laugh was directed at himself and not the question or her.

"In my line of work, once you're in, you can't come out unless you're dead."

Figures. And he was one of the important heads too, one of the Harbingers. Why would he join such a dangerous mafia, she would never know. It was not a proper question to be asked – sometimes things were better left unknown and maybe this was one of those.

"Well, for being one of the Harbingers, you're pretty lax, I could say," she changed the course of the conversation. Lumine could not trust herself to handle heavy topics for now.

"Here, at least," he chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. Somehow, each strand managed to return to its designed place when those fingers pulled away. "It's easy to breathe here, and that's not because of the potted plants."

Of course, the nuance was what made him felt that way. It was once designed by Aether, after all. The way he decorated it made the shop drenched in his gentle and kind personality. The way sunlight fell from the shop's window in the morning, the way the shadows got lengthened in the late afternoon, the way the gossamer curtain swayed in the wind; this was all because of Aether.

But unlike Childe, this place suffocated her. Even now, Lumine had difficulty breathing without being reminded of Aether.

"Maybe it's because you never pry,ojou-chan," he added as he stood, dragging the stool once again, to place it next to her. "It's comfortable, somehow."

Archon…

There was little to no gap between their shoulders. It was unusual for him to sit next to her. Usually, it would be somewhere across her, somewhere where he could stare hole at her, somewhere where there was a certaindistancebetween them.

But not now.

Lumine stiffened, feeling so conscious about his proximity and she stupidly wondered if he could hear the hammering beatings of her heart in her chest. This was the closest she had ever been to him and she did not know if she could handle it.

Perhaps something was bothering Childe to make him acted this way. Lumine knew how mischievous he could be, but right now, he radiated none of that persona. More calm and composed – she wondered if there was any other reason for his visit this evening other than giving her dinner.

The familiar itch returned at the back of her throat, making Lumine sucked a sharp but quiet breath in a muted surprise.

Please. Please, not now. Not yet.

Lumine swallowed thickly to ease the itch, cleared her throat to conceal it, and asked, "What about Mister Zhongli?"

There, Lumine noticed, there was a shift in him. Something around him changed. It became a little bit more subdued, more pensive than how he usually was; it was something that was so out of his character. His lips were set in a grim line and a crease between his two eyebrows deepened.

Was this the real him? Did he ever show it to anyone? To Zhongli?

Or was it just her?

"Maybe I should give up on him," he said lightly with a chuckle, voice did not miss the beat of humor that seemed to make it sounded like a joke. However, his blue eyes, those which stared at the interlaced fingers on his lap, showed her more than that. "Honestly, that man is so dense."

Lumine said nothing. Her back was straight, head slightly lowered, golden eyes stared at the hands resting on her lap, her legs crossed – a pose which indicated her readiness in hearing the answer. But, honestly, it felt like that question was something she should not have asked about, and that the answer she heard was something that should be better left forever unknown to her.

"What about you,ojou-chan? Why did you become a florist?" Childe asked her and Lumine stiffened.

Of course. Why, Lumine? Because she was still clinging to Aether? Still unable to move on from his death? Still unable to accept it all? Lumine knew deep down she was still holding on to the trace of his faint scent, to the phantom image of him tending the flowers, to the reverberation of his laugh, to the fantasy that screamed 'Aether is not dead, he's still alive, somewhere in this shop'.

But she also knew that it was the time for her to let go, to accept his death, to move on. She knew she should be doing that. However, the big iron ball named guilt was still dragged behind her wherever she went as it was chained tight to her ankles. Until those shackles were removed, until that ball disappeared, Lumine knew she would never be able to move on.

Lumine took a quiet inhale.

"This shop was managed by my brother, I took little to no role before this," was the only answer Lumine could muster.

Childe turned to her, an eyebrow rose. "Where is he now?"

Lips pressed together, Lumine mustered every ounce of energy left in her to gave him a collected answer.

Pain, go away–

"He has passed away."

Neither of them talked after that. Lumine did not even bother to try guessing what kind of look Childe had right now. However, for just a moment, for a measly millisecond, Lumine thought she was finally able to accept it all. By saying those words, she thought she was finally able to let it go. Her chest felt light and Lumine almost praised herself for the sudden appearance of that ability, of that courage.

Yet, the heaviness returned when Childe opened his mouth to say the words she had been hearing over and over since Aether's passing.

"My… condolence,ojou-chan," he said quietly, gently, as if it would break her like a bubble if he did not.

Lumine turned to him, a small smile graced her face. "Thank you, Childe."

No, she did not blame him. He did not know anything about it. It was just normal and polite and so kind of him to say it. It was enough.

Having him with her here was enough. More than enough, more than what she deserved.

"I thought it's because you like flowers," Childe added, trying to lighten up the mood. "You look like someone who likes to tend the flowers, after all."

It's because Aether and I were twins. But everyone knows the flowers suit him better than they suit me.

"Really?" she let out a short laugh. "Unfortunately…"

The sight of flowers reminded her of Aether's death, of the flower he coughed, of the basket full of petals and few flowers, of the casket filled with cecilia surrounding Aether's body in his eternal slumber, with a lone glaze lily slipped in between his folded hands, rested on top of his stomach.

Flowers became the reminder of her hopelessness, her useless longing, her feelings, her incessant guilt and regrets, and if she could, she would never want to see it ever again.

"I hate flowers."

Notes:

hello! thank you for reading! honestly, i wanted to upload this chapter sooner, but somehow the data got corrupted in some parts so i have to write it again- anyway! thank you for the support and the kind comments! give me constructive criticism and kudos comments motivate me! please look forward to the next chapter :D

Chapter 4: poppy

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter fornotes.)

Chapter Text

They said that a dream was the manifestation of what you sought after, of what you wished to have or to be, of what your heart desperately wanted.

When Lumine opened her eyes to the sea of flowers she had never seen before, she immediately knew that this dream was not going to be a pretty dream, nor would it be the manifestation of what she truly wanted.

She sat amidst the swaying flowers, bare legs submerged in the shallow water that was the ground, a finger gingerly touched the petals of the flowers that brushed against her, a pair of golden eyes narrowed at the burning sensation on her skin. Those five-petaled flowers, four of them trapped the white light within them while the remaining one reflected the sky far above her.

It should be a pretty sight, itwasa pretty sight, but those flowers reminded her of the glaze lily in Aether's hands before the casket where he lay still was closed.

Perhaps that was the start of her hatred toward flowers. That, and the fact that those flowers took Aether away from her with the stupid, folklore-ish disease.

Was it her turn next?

A hand plucked the flowers, eyes staring at it with slight disdain before she plucked another one. Again and again, over and over, until there was enough distance between her and those flowers. Her skin no longer burned, no longer itched at the touch of those flowers and she stared at her reflection on the clear water.

A frown marred her face, subtly reminding her of how Aether used to frown playfully at her and she slapped the water at the remembrance. It created a distorted reflection of her face and the sound of trickling water tore the silence of the still world.

Lumine dragged her eyes to the flowers she plucked, resting on her laps with half of the petals dipped in the shallow water. She blinked slowly. Once, twice, thrice, before her hands lifted them, fingers twisting the thin, brittle-looking stem and turned them into a flower crown.

For Aether, she thought to herself, because it did not suit her.

And yes, if a dream was the manifestation of what she really wanted, then Aether should be here. It would be more bearable if he was here because at least she would have someone to talk to until she woke up. Lumine also would not have to look at those flowers with such disdain it certainly did not deserve.

Flowers never wrong, Lumine remembered Aether once said that to her while teaching her how to make a bouquet. They never wrong because they were just trying to live. Even the wild ivy creeping on a wall would yield beautiful flowers if left to grow.

But what about those petals and flowers you coughed out? Did you forgive them for taking you away?

Because she did not. And now that Lumine coughed petals too, she loathed them even more.

Tired eyes gazed at the flower crown that floated away from her. If this dream was just trying to remind her of her hatred toward the flowers and her regret and guilt for Aether's death, then she wanted this dream to end. It was enough for her to handle the flowers on daily basis, to manage the flower shop, to pick up the glaze lilies on her own.

She did not need more reminders to all that was better left forgotten.

(Because she needed and wanted to move on.)

It was enough; all of these flowers, all of the guilt and regret and longing. She had enough of it.

"Why can't we love someone in peace?" she asked aloud to no one.

What did she and Aether do wrong to deserve such a disease for just trying to love someone? Archon knew, but they refused to tell her. Maybe it was fate.

And…there– the sign of her cough returned. The tightness, the tickling sensation somewhere around her chest, the itch in her throat, the bitter taste in her mouth. She could not breathe.

A laugh escaped her as she brought her legs to her chest, arms circling them, and she buried her face in her knees. Even in her dream, not only the flowers but those petals also seemed to refuse to leave her alone.

"Crybaby Lumine."

A hand softly rested on her shoulder, on the place where it was scorching yesterday, and it brought her a sense of relief. The invisible binding around her chest disappeared, the bitterness in her mouth faded, the air filled her lungs; Lumine could finally breathe again.

When that hand pulled away, Lumine almost wanted to beg for it to stay, but that presence took a seat behind her as if he had been meaning to do that since the start. Maybe he did, she thought to herself, maybe because he missed her too.

His warm back touched hers as the familiar voice tore the silence once again. "Don't cry, Lumi or your prince charming won't be able to find you."

The same old teasing, the same warm tone, the same gentle voice with a hint of amusement in it.

Lumine missed it all.

"What prince charming," she replied with a breath of a humorless laugh, "my prince charming is a bad guy and he's in love with someone else."

"Mine was a good person, but it was still an unrequited love," her twin chuckled. His reply was light on Lumine's ears as if nothing was weighing him down with those words. "Maybe it's just our fate."

Lumine straightened herself; her head inclined upward to see the blue sky, back leaned into the warmth she had desperately searched and missed for two months, her hand found him and she smiled a little when he held it gently. His thumb brushed the back of her small hand, a reassuring gesture that he always did whenever she was nervous or troubled.

Aether always knew what to do or what to say to her.

Always.

"To be in an unrequited love?" she asked after a brief pause.

"To have this strange illness too."

A bitter smile formed on Lumine's face and she tightened her hold on his hand before she opened her mouth for another question.

"And to die from it?"

That back which she leaned into shifted uncomfortably. The soft stroke on the back of her hand stopped and Lumine felt a weight on her head; the flower crown. Those blue-white-petaled flowers, which looked like the illusion of glaze lilies, sat atop her head as if they were mocking her.

"Flowers suit you too, Lumi. You should accept that fact," he replied instead. "And the other facts too."

"Which other facts, Aether?" Lumine asked shakily. "That you died from unrequited love? That we have this stupid disease?"

Aether said nothing, to which Lumine continued in a whisper, "There are just too many facts that I can yet accept."

A strong wind blew, setting the flowers around her into a gust of petals, and Lumine felt the absence of that warmth on her back and the emptiness in her hand. She turned abruptly, a hand reaching out to the figure that walked away amidst the flowers, whose long golden hair fluttered with the wind, but only managed to barely brush her fingertips against him.

Ivy grew, twisting its way around her legs, waist, chest, neck, and tapping into her lips. Its purple flower bloomed as her heart sunk, as her breath hitched, as the itch grew once again. Lumine was rooted to the place because of it, unable to chase after him or even touch him.

"You're not supposed to be here, Lumi," she heard his voice echoing in the still space, his figure faded as petals danced in her vision. She could not see anything amidst the blurred sight of white and pale blue but his voice rang clear. "You should return."

"I don't want to," she rasped, feeling breathless as the ivy tightened around her. "Brother, I want to stay with you."

"But dearest sister…"

The wind stopped and petals swirled around her, one by one fell to the ground at the echo of his voice. Golden eyes blinked and the scenery changed into two figures of men that her eyes were very familiar with. They stood side by side, with their backs facing her and one's pinky timidly linked to another's. The flowers and petals around her turned dark blue and ivy forced its way into her mouth, into her throat, and reached her lungs.

The world was dyed in dark blue color, all lines blurred and merged into one, and Lumine felt like she was choking.

"Can you breathe here?"

Lumine woke up to the rough fit of cough that tore the silence of her dimly-lit room.

She pushed herself to sit, a hand over her mouth while the other clutched her chest as the burning sensation spread inside her. Air rushed into her lungs when she felt the blockage was removed after one last hard cough and she felt something on her palm. Though, it barely registered in her head as the cough left her panting, glossy-eyed, and dizzy from the sudden jerk of awakening.

It had been like this since several days ago – that she would wake up abruptly from her sleep because of the cough. Lumine should be accustomed to it, to the new routine that started her day, but she could not. The cough became more painful each day passed and there was no way she could get herself accustomed to such aggravating pain.

Lumine pulled her hand away and blue petals with a speck of red fell to the top of the blanket that pooled on her lap. Her cloudy sight stared at the blur of blue and she counted them slowly, repeating it twice when she found there were seven of them instead of six.

It was one petal too many than what she had yesterday.

A weak chuckle escaped her despite how her throat was hurting and screaming for water. At a moment like this, she wanted to pity herself; she really did. However, that feeling never came and instead, Lumine found herself wondering if there could be more than seven petals before she finally coughed out a whole flower.

And just how much time remained before it happens, I wonder…

Lumine gathered the petals and placed them on the bedside table as she sighed slowly. The clock standing next to it told her that it was around four in the morning. Too early, she thought, but she doubted she could fall back asleep.

Gingerly, she slipped out of her bed and stood to stretch. Her eyes found their way to the empty bed across her and she was reminded of her dream.

"Can you breathe here?"

No, she could not.

Not in here and not even in her dream. She could not breathe well anywhere. Everything suffocated her and she felt guilty at how she blamed Aether's death for her hatred towards flowers. Yet she could not deny how painful it felt whenever she looked at the flowers and be reminded of him.

Stop. Not now. Do this later, Lumine.

Another sigh escaped her as she tore her gaze away from the empty bed. Lumine let her feet dragged her to the small kitchen. A hand reached for a cup in the cupboard to fill it with water, which she emptied in no time.

There was a sense of ease in her throat like the fire had diminished slightly at the touch of cool water, then she let her body lean against the wall next to the sink and closed her eyes. A memory from last night appeared and replayed like a filmstrip in her head. Lumine let more of it to play to dispel the dream away.

Childe visited and stayed with her yesterday. While the small exchange between them was anything but light, it was… meaningful to say the least, and Lumine could not help but think if she started to trust him more than she let herself be.

It could be something more like a reliance than trust because she felt at ease whenever he was around, but it could be both as well. Whatever it was, she had decided not to go against what her heart was feeling.

Liking him was one of them, even if it meant to become a victim of such an illogical illness.

Mostly, it was because Lumine had nothing else to lose.

Childe had stayed longer than she thought he would. He stayed for another cup of coffee, for another talk about his day with Zhongli (which was not as impressive as she thought it was), for another moment of long but comfortable silence between them, occasionally broken only by the sound of him sipping his hot coffee slowly.

When the clock struck eight, he brushed her head – she let him this time – and told her not to think too much about his questions. Maybe he was afraid that she would be stuck in the thoughts and would not be able to move on from it. In response, Lumine only gave him a nod and told him that she would be fine.

It was a lie because, even now, she was feeling anything but fine.

She placed the cup in the sink, then walked to the bathroom for a quick shower. A glance to the mirror had Lumine understood why Kaeya commented on her. Her worn-out face was something he had never seen back in Mondstadt, and if Jean or Amber saw her, they would have her taken to Barbara to be examined. Maybe it was showing only after she had her cough, or maybe it was only visible to those who were perceptive.

Kaeya was observant by nature and he knew the exact time and place to exploit his talent. However, Lumine never expected Zhongli to be so perceptive. He looked aloof, almost expressionless, but she knew she was wrong about it. Maybe it was because of his history as a doctor, as a scholar, that he was able to pick up the details.

A part of her thought that he was covering for her when he examined her – for whatever reason he had in him. Maybe it was out of kindness. If she put it that way, Lumine could accept the gesture because she could imagine Zhongli doing the same thing for anyone.

(He might look expressionless, but he was kind, indeed.)

But to be cooking a dish for her, a mere flower shop owner he often went to, was too much. It was too much kindness for someone who was supposed to know her only as a florist or as Aether's sibling. She did not know if Zhongli personally knew Aether, but even if he did, he still had no reason to be so kind to her.

What if it was not out of kindness but pity? Did he catch her pitying herself?

Lumine chuckled lightly becauseit might be so.

She should go and visit his teahouse today and offer him her gratitude while she had the day off. After all, today was the twenty-third, and on every twenty-third of the month, Lumine always closed her shop.

Because it was the date of Aether's death.

Today marked the two months since his passing and Lumine barely moved on from it. She could still feel how guilt and regret were like raw wounds in her chest, or like one big, heavy iron ball chained to the shackles around her ankles. Maybe that was why she opted to wear her mourning clothes again – black suit dress, black skirt, black shoes – to reminisce that day.

Lumine stared at her reflection in the mirror as she brushed the invisible dust away from the sleeve. Black clothes always created a stark contrast against her bright eyes and hair. Her pale white skin enhanced that contrast, but the grim line on her face was enough to dim out her bright features.

Never in her life that Lumine thought she would be comfortable being donned in mourning clothes.

Her legs forced her to walk away from the mirror, pulling her thoughts back to her head, and reminded herself that she was expecting someone early in the morning. When her feet stepped into the shop area, her eyes immediately flew to the clock to see the time. It was almost six – Verr Goldet's mother would arrive shortly.

Lumine put on the apron, trying to hide the fact that she was wearing all black from her customer who would have a joyful day ahead. It would be impolite for her to appear otherwise, even if she was, indeed, mourning for her loss. But she could fake the enthusiasm and she could handle it better than having anyone else pitying her.

Those sympathizing gazes, she did not need them today.

Just as she picked up the box filled with the ordered bouquet and boutonniere, a knock came from the door. She unlocked the door and let the woman dressed in Liyue's traditional clothes to enter the shop. Lumine pulled her lips into a small smile, then.

"Good morning, ma'am," she greeted, forcing her voice to be in the neutral tone, but it quivered in the end. "I have your orders ready over here."

The woman said nothing as Lumine walked to the counter. She merely stared at her, running a look to her clothes behind the apron, and Lumine flinched when she felt her hand wrapped around her wrist. When she turned around, she saw how those dark eyes stared at her with the gaze she was very familiar with; the one she tried so hard to avoid today.

"My condolence, dear," the older woman whispered and Lumine fought the lump that started to form in her throat from blocking her voice.

That small smile on Lumine's face turned into a tight one. "Thank you, ma'am."

She patted lightly on the woman's hand and walked to the counter to prepare the box filled with the peony bouquet and boutonniere. Her eyes avoided those dark eyes in fear of arousing more unwanted words from her. Yet, it seemed like Lumine did not need to do that for making the woman talk about it.

"Aether was such a good man," Verr Goldet's mother spoke with a voice that was thick in reminiscing. "I'm sorry for not being able to attend his funeral, dear."

Lumine turned to her, offered her the same tight smile because she could not force herself to do more than that.

"It is okay, ma'am."

Lumine filtered everything else that the woman said, only nodding and humming occasionally in response as she processed the payment. She did not even realize how or when the topic had changed.

While she nodded and hummed along, Lumine had unintentionally agreed to the woman's offer to bring the other bouquet – the one ordered by Verr Goldet's friend as a small wedding gift – with her and would not take no for answer. Apparently, she was on her way to pick up her daughter's friend and told Lumine to just give it to her to save time.

Indeed, it saved Lumine a lot of time and energy because she simply lacked both of them. Right now, every ounce of her was focused on remembering the path she needed to take to reach the cemetery ground that the chatter of the woman went through her.

That, until she mentioned something that Lumine could not simply ignore.

"I heard from my daughter that you have a boyfriend now, dear," was what Lumine heard as she waited for the receipt to be printed.

The golden-haired girl coughed, but she quickly regained her composure.

"If that boyfriend being someone who has distinctive blue eyes, orange hair, and doesn't seem to hail from Liyue, then I have to apologize," Lumine handed the receipt, "but you're mistaken, ma'am."

"Is that so?" the woman across her tilted her head in slight disbelief as she received the paper. "I sure do hope my daughter wasn't mistaken though. Darling, you should fill that heart of yours with a man's presence while you're still young."

Thiswas why she hoped Verr Goldet would keep it for herself. Lumine hated it when she became the hot topic among the women's circle, especially theolderwomen's circle. Archon knew they were relentless and eager for any kind of gossip to fill their idle time.

"Oh! Do you want me to introduce you to someone? I know the son of a friend of mine is–"

Archon, no.

"Thank you for the generous offer, ma'am," she cut her before it went too far and too deep to intervene, "but I am fine."

She was fine.

In fact, that boyfriend the woman talked about had occupied her heart and he would not go away no matter what she did. If anything, she was falling even deeper with him, with his kind gesture, with his smile, with his laugh, even if she knew they were not meant to make her fall for him.

But Lumine was a simple girl, and she hated that part of hers. She thought she knew herself, but it seemed that she was not aware of the part of her who could fall for someone at his mere laugh and smile.

Lumine pitied Aether for having to deal with this kind of conversation with his regulars.

The woman thanked Lumine before she left the store, but not before she told her to come at her whenever she had trouble with her 'boyfriend'. And just then, as she took off her apron, she was reminded of Childe.

Last night, she failed to tell him that she would have her shop closed today and that she would be out all day. She thought it was understandable as last night's mood was too much and Lumine just could not bring herself to tear through the thick atmosphere. Hopefully, the man would not feel too disappointed when he came to the shop only to find it was locked and empty.

Lumine gave her displayed flowers one last check after changing the water before she went back to her room to pick up the windwheel aster bouquet. Surely the bouquet was meant for her, but Lumine thought it would be better if she gave it to Aether instead. It was just as Jean said; so the wind would carry the heartfelt thoughts to his place.

She exited the shop, locked the door, and immediately noticed the gloomy weather. The sky was a little grey above her, unlike the one she saw in her dream, as if rain was somewhere near the region. However, Lumine tuned out the voice in her head that told her to go and grab an umbrella becauseit might rain, Lumine.

Well, if it rained, then let it be. At this point, she barely cared about getting wet – she just wanted to quickly reach Aether, stand in front of his tombstone, be sad and pity herself to her heart's content because she deserved it.

At least today, just for every twenty-third of each month, she would let herself be selfish, be sad, and miss him.

Lumine started to make her way to the cemetery ground while trying her best to ignore the gazes from the people who recognized her. Most of the gazes looked like they were meant to convey silent condolences. Perhaps they were, but Lumine could not trust herself to stop and greet the ones she knew in her current somber mood.

They would say their condolence, no doubt, but those words had somehow become empty words in her ears. Ignorance was bliss, she told herself, so there should be no need to feel guilty for appearing impolite. At that thought, she quickened her pace and made a turn for the less crowded path.

It was drizzling when Lumine finally reached the cemetery ground. Her grip around the bouquet tightened as she made her way through the rows of mute tombstones. Her silent gaze focused on the path ahead of her, and after one turn to the right, Lumine finally arrived at Aether's grave.

It was quite a long walk as his grave was located on the farthest corner of the cemetery. But it was alright. Lumine had enough time to sort out her thoughts and arrived there with a clear head.

She traced what she did last month; Lumine first placed the bouquet next to his tombstone before greeted him with a small smile.

"Hello, brother."

A gentle wind brushed past her as if answering her quiet greeting, and Lumine could imagine how Aether greeted her in return. With a soft smile, perhaps, and a little bit of laugh at the sight of her tired face. Or he could be hugging her, running his hand on her short tresses in the reassurance that she did a good job managing his flower shop.

A beat passed before she continued. "Today marks the two months since you last talked to me, and I can't say that I like how our last exchange went."

The weak laugh, the heavy cough, the flower that fell from his mouth, little explanation about his illness, and more of his last words. That was their last exchange.

She disliked it as much as she regretted it.

"But if last night's dream counts, then I guess we just met last night."

The sound of rustling leaves filled the silence but the rumbles of thunder far in the sky went past her. The drizzle became heavier, her shoulders became damper, and trickles of water slid off her cheek. Lumine wondered if it would rain even harder as time passed.

She could take shelter under the big tree not too far from Aether's grave and still talk to him within that distance. But as long as the rain was still bearable, she would stand there with eyes glued to his name and the epitaph etched to the tombstone.

here rests his head upon the lap of Earth
a youth, to Fortune and Fame celebrated only by a Dearest few
a fairer flower will ne'er bloom again

Lumine did not know what came to her when she requested such lines to be written as his epitaph. It was an old poem that once she read by chance in Mondstadt's library, but it left a deep impression on her.

A youth that Aether was, whose existence was only known by those who were drawn to his gentle soul. The poem matched him just right.

"Maybe I should prepare mine too," Lumine said with a laugh, "because I'm afraid that I'll be joining you sooner or later, even if you pushed me away in my dream."

Ah, what a depressing conversation, Lumine thought inwardly as she remembered the seven blue petals that she coughed out earlier this morning. Judging from the way she coughed more petals than yesterday, without knowing what triggered it, it was safe to assume that she was dying. As much as she did not want to think it that way, she could not deny that she was nearing the end-stage.

Unless her love was returned, unless she managed to find another form of cure, then she would die.

"Isn't that what you said, brother? That this can only be cured by a reciprocated love?"

One of his last words, Lumine remembered, were the things he knew about this disease. The end of those who had it, he said, it was either a reciprocated love or death. Joy or grievance. There was nothing in-between.

"I wonder if it would be any different if I were there when you fell," a sigh escaped her and the next deep inhale brought in the unique scent of the rain.

Maybe it would not, she thought to herself. Lumine knew his nature; stubbornness was also one of his traits despite his gentleness. Even she would not be able to stop him from falling and continue liking whoever it was who he liked.

In her mind's eye, she saw his figure there, standing across her in the place of his cold, wet tombstone. What kind of face would he show her, she wondered, or what kind of reaction he would show if she told him that. Aether, in all his good nature, would simply laugh and thanked her for understanding.

Except she did not understand him. She only respected his choice, but could never really understand him or his reason for not letting go of his feelings. Back then, he still had her. Did her worth as his sibling, as his twin, not even reach a half of all things that he took into consideration before choosing this ending?

How could it be that his feelings for that someone outweighed his love for the only family he had?

Maybe, deep down, Lumine hated Aether for being selfish, for leaving her alone, for having to deal with the mess he left; the flower shop, the confusion, the loneliness. Maybe she resented him for choosing his feelings over their wellbeing, over their haven called family, overher. Maybe she had been feeling guilty for nothing, agonized herself to no end for nothing, and regretted leaving him alone in Liyue for nothing.

"Brother, you're so cruel."

But she loved him, nonetheless. Lumine could never hate him nor could she blame him. In the end, it was herself who she blamed.

"But maybe I'll give up too," Lumine whispered. "After all, there's no more to life than mundane chores after you're gone, brother."

The silence stretched after that. Lumine's head was once again filled with stray thoughts. They were scattered like those blue petals on the white floor when her hand accidentally knocked against the basket containing it. Back then, the basket was not as full as it was now.

Aether's petals, Aether's flowers, they used to fill the basket to the brim. Anyone who saw it would mistake it as a new decoration for the shop, but Lumine felt sick whenever she was reminded of them.

They were beautiful, indeed, but they took Aether with their beauty.

How can you forgive them for taking your life away?

But it was the law of nature. The strong preyed on the weak, and the weak…

The weak either fought it or ran away.

And Aether chose to surrender.

(How about you, Lumine?)

Golden eyes blinked in surprise when she no longer felt the rain falling on her and she looked up to see a black umbrella hovering above her. Her head turned to the left and a pair of amber eyes greeted her. It took her another couple of blinks for her to came to the realization.

"Mister Zhongli?"

The man in question stepped closer, and the two of them now stood so close to each other. Lumine almost wanted to take one step back if not for him to stop her with his question. "Did you, perhaps, forget to bring your umbrella?"

"Y–Yes, I forgot it," she stuttered the lie and winced inwardly. For some reason, she felt it would be stupid if she told him that it was on purpose.

"Then, we can share this umbrella," he offered. "That is if you do not mind the proximity."

Lumine held back the urge to rub her cold hands together, to shift the weight to her right foot, to ask questions she had in her head. She only shook her head slowly before her eyes fell to the wet tombstone once again.

Who would have thought that she would meet him here?

"I…" Lumine started, swallowing the lump in her throat, "never thought I would meet you here, sir."

That earned her a small but polite laugh and she could sense the telltale of that same smile he gave her yesterday. "I am on my way to visit a friend."

She glanced at him. "A friend?"

A smile, Lumine noticed a bigger, fonder, and sadder smile that, together with his solemn gaze, fell to the tombstone in front of her. Lumine might be mistaken, but all doubt was lost when the man placed a flower, a blooming glaze lily, next to her bouquet.

"A very dear friend."

One blink and she knew immediately.

Aether.

There was a silence that created a big chasm between more questions and unwanted answers, and Lumine thought they were all appropriate. She focused her hearing on the sound of rain hitting the concrete ground, on the rustling leaves, on the howl of the wind, but in the end, it was her voice that drowned the silence.

Could there be something more than just being a dear friend?

Lumine knew Aether, or so she thought. Her twin always sent her letters telling her about his daily life – about how he had received her handpicked flowers from Mondstadt, how he was exasperated but grateful to his regular's nagging about his love life, about how the bread he baked the other day turned out perfect.

She thought she knew him, her twin, but it seemed that she got ahead of herself. Aether never mentioned Zhongli's name anywhere in his letter. For someone he became so close with, he must have some reasons to not mention him to her.

Zhongli was another secret that Aether refused to tell her besides his illness.

There had always been this tiny fragment of suspicion swirling inside her. About the person he talked about in her dream last night, about the person he loved, about the person who made him suffer. But Lumine turned blind eyes on it. And that was not for no reason; Archon, she had every reason and right to know, but she chose not to.

Ignorance was bliss, she reminded herself. Lumine feared she might come to hate that person for causing Aether's misery, for taking Aether away from her.

But deep, deep,deepdown, she wanted to know.

Maybe, this man knew something about it, about Aether, about everything her twin did not write in his letter to her, about anything, any small secret he kept from her.

But Zhongli beat her into it. Her question died in her throat the moment he turned his gaze at her and captured her eyes with his stringent ones. His deep voice cut through the sound of the rain swiftly like a blade.

"Miss Lumine, may we have a talk?"

And in an instant, the moment she heard him adding that honorific to her name, Lumine knew it would not be a light talk. She just knew; something inside her told her that she should be prepared for it.

Lumine offered him a small smile despite the clench in her stomach. "Of course."

"Very well," his shoulders visibly relaxed and the gentleness of his gaze returned. "This is not a proper place to talk. Shall we go to my teahouse?"

A glance to the tombstone, eyes lingering one second longer at the etching of Aether's name, and then Lumine nodded. She walked first before the man fell into step with her, walking next to her while being careful not to bump to her shoulders. He matched her pace, walking as if there was no urgency in his gait, as if he was taking a leisure walk.

No pleasantries were exchanged between them, but the silence was not awkward. It was as if they both know not to utter a single word to keep this atmosphere they had around them. It was not a heavy one, but it was enough to make her self-consciousness be at ease despite the seriousness of their exchange earlier, despite the unknown things they would share later.

However, Lumine never thought that it would be a short walk, for they reached the humble-looking teahouse in less than ten minutes despite their slow walk. It was a small teahouse, not even looked like one except for the small sign which indicated it was one. A traditional teahouse it was, and she was greeted with the gentle scent of tea upon entering it.

The sign hung on the door told her that it was closed, and Lumine refused to think if that had anything to do with their coincidental meeting on Aether's grave.

"Please have a seat anywhere you find comfortable," Zhongli said and Lumine thought heblendedwith this place perfectly. "Do you have any preferred kind of tea?"

"Ah, no," she was distracted by the sense of tranquility of the teahouse, which almost felt familiar to how it was in her shop. "I'll have anything that Mister Zhongli recommends me."

The dark-haired man nodded before he walked away to the deeper part of the teahouse and Lumine took a seat on a round table next to an open window. Her gaze fell to the small pond on the garden outside, watching how the rain hit the water and created endless ripples, how the glaze lilies swayed upon the touch of the rain, how the garden drenched in the rainwater could look so peaceful.

It was hypnotizing and questions rose inside her.

Did Childe come here often? Was he familiar with this view? That small pavilion over there… did he and Zhongli ever spend their time sitting there, drinking the tea Zhongli brewed himself?

Maybe he did. Maybe they did. Maybe it was more impressive than what Childe had told her. Maybe Childe should not give up on his feelings and letherbe the one who did instead.

Except that she did not want to give up, perhaps for the same reason as to why Aether refused to give up on his feelings even if it killed him. But would she be able to accept the fact that she could be dead because of love? Because of the disease?

"There are too many facts that I can yet accept."

She told Aether that in her dream and that was true. Somehow, somewhat. Maybe, in the end, even she would not be able to accept her death if she ended up dying.

Stupid disease.

A delicate sweet scent came over her and Lumine immediately reminded of what she was doing here. Zhongli appeared in front of her, carrying a tray filled with a teapot and two cups, and he set it down on the table.

The man sat across her as Lumine unconsciously straightened her posture. Liquid gold came into her view when he poured the tea into a cup and immediately, albeit she was not too familiar with it, she knew that it was osmanthus tea.

"Osmanthus tea," Zhongli started, carefully peeling the silence between them, "is good to improve one's complexion."

Right, Zhongli was there when she had her fit yesterday. Lumine accepted the cup with a small thank you, her eyes watched the translucent reflection of her eyes danced with the movement of the liquid and took a quiet sip of it. The sweet, almost peachy flavor spread in her mouth and she relaxed slightly.

"I'm ashamed that I came empty-handed," Lumine smiled embarrassingly at him, "despite meaning to repay for your kindness for the meal last night."

Across her, Zhongli shook his head gently. His long, dark hair swayed lightly with the movement and Lumine wondered if she had ever seen someone so dignified but beautiful at the same time beside him. "Your company today is more than enough of a compensation, Miss Lumine."

Again. That honorific. It bothered her.

"Please, just call me Lumine," she bit her inner cheek at the tone she used. Lumine did not mean to be so terse, but blame it on her nerve for making her act that way. And Zhongli, as if unbothered by the impoliteness, merely smiled at her.

That smile again. A smile that somehow full of reassurance and understanding, but they glossed oversomethingthat appeared differently in his soft gaze.

Sorrow?

But these small talks, Lumine thought she would be able to bear it. To be polite, she told herself earlier, and to ease the nervousness that was slowly eating her inside-out. But it seemed that she could no longer handle it.

There ought to be something more important than just these pleasantries.

So, she struck it.

"Mister Zhongli, what is it that you wanted to talk about?"

His gaze shifted then; it became a little bit hardened as he set down his teacup, and gone was his smile. Again, Lumine straightened her posture and crossed her legs. Her hand fisted the fabric of her skirt because she could feel that something was coming.

Something that was completely out of her expectation.

"Hanahakidisease," Zhongli wasted no breath on saying it, eyes closed as if deep in thought, "a disease that stems from Liyue's and Inazuma's old folklore, in which someone, under a certain… unfortunate condition, coughs out flower petals or even flowers. I believe that you are aware of what the condition is."

Unfortunate condition. Lumine's heart sunk as she listened to it, but she nodded, nevertheless. Her stomach twisted when his eyes opened, caught hers, and it felt as if she was driven into the corner.

"Lumine, you have that disease, don't you?"

Her hand clenched harder on her skirt, so tight that her knuckles turned white, and she let out a shaky sigh. Shudders ran through her body, and Lumine fought the urge to glance away from his questioning gaze.

"H–How did you know?" she asked instead. "Is it from yesterday?"

"No," Lumine finally pulled her gaze and it fell to his interlaced fingers on the table. Angular hands with long fingers and prominent veins; he was indeed the scholarly type. "It is but a lucky guess."

A lucky guess, he said. Lumine doubted it, but she did not want to pursue the matter, nor did she want to deny it any further.

It was all true. Who was she to tell lies?

Lumine sighed. Her clenching hand relaxed, shoulders sagged, and lips formed a feeble smile. "Yes, I have that disease."

Her ears picked up a howl of the wind, the rustling of the leaves, the pitter-patter of the rain as no one said anything after that. Maybe Zhongli was giving her a chance to compose herself before the talk went deeper.

But this time, it was Lumine's turn to do the questioning.

"Mister Zhongli, I heard you were a doctor," Lumine said after a deep, quiet inhale and focused on the matter she had at hands. Maybe,maybe, he knew something about this disease, about the cure that Aether was not even aware of.

"Did you know any cure for it?"

Zhongli sipped his tea, eyes narrowing, and Lumine's hands went cold. She reached to the teacup, hugging it so the warmth chased away the sudden coldness and they tightened when she saw him shaking his head.

"It is a rare, unique disease, not well-known amongst the doctors or scholars alike. Many consider it as folklore, a mere urban legend," he replied, and the more she heard the explanation, the more she felt all hope was gone.

"I was a researcher who focused on the development of Liyue's herbal medicine.Hanahakidisease, however, was my personal interest so I took the chance to do more thorough research about it."

Lumine forced herself to drink the tea. Her throat went dry and she doubted it was caused by mere thirst. Anticipation, nervousness, curiosity – they were mixing together and formed a big knot in her chest. She took a quiet, deep inhale in an attempt to ease it to no avail.

"For a brief explanation," Zhongli continued as he poured her another cup of tea, "a flower is growing inside the victim's lungs by taking the oxygen available there. It is currently unknown as to how the flower manages to grow in human's organ, but it is speculated to be linked to a psychological reason."

Yes, yes, and?

Lumine never knew she was desperate for the cure.

(And here I thought you were ready to give up, Lumine.)

"There is a record showing that a surgeon from Inazuma once tried to remove the flowers from his patient's lungs through a risky surgery procedure," at this, Lumine held her breath, "but it resulted in the patient having a memory lost and affected his psychology."

Golden eyes stared wide-eyed at the man, barely blinking, barely moving. "By affecting his psychology means…?"

It was Zhongli's turn to sigh and dread pooled deep in her twisted stomach. Lumine immediately regretted asking it when she heard his answer.

"The patient was unable to remember the person involved with the emergence of his illness, nor could he was able to feel romantic kind of love again."

Archon.

There was no hope.

Did Aether know this? Is this why he chose to give up?

A shaky breath escaped her. "In other words, there is no known cure without its side effects, is there?"

The grim line formed on the man's face told her enough. His gaze was somewhat softened, no longer piercing nor pressuring her, as if he took a pity on her.

"I apologize," Zhongli said after a moment passed.

"No, please," Lumine shook her head. "It's not any of your faults. No need to apologize for anything."

Golden eyes watched the white steam that came from her tea and she thought that it was enough. At least she had an explanation of this disease. At least she could try and guess that Aether knew it would come to those side effects and chose not to try the surgery.

Ignorance–

"What I mean, Miss Lumine," she flinched when the honorific returned, "that I apologize for your brother's, Aether's death."

Again. Words of condolence. They passed through her like a wind.

–is bliss.

"Thank you, Mister Zhongli." She thanked him, nonetheless. To be polite, to feel grateful that someone other than her was remembering him, to stop herself from drowning in the guilt.

"What I really mean…"

Thunder cracked in the far sky as rain poured harder. It was gloomy weather, a gloomy day, indeed, and it matched her mood just right. To think about it, it was also raining on the day of Aether's funeral. Anything other than how peaceful Aether was among the whiteness of cecilia, Lumine barely remembered it.

Ah, yes. What was the color of the flowers Aether coughed out, again?

It was…

"I deeply apologize for causing the passing of your brother."

Lumine barely registered the scald she felt on her lap as the teacup fell from her hold and spilled its content. Her head slowly lifted from where the white teacup landed to find the man bowing his head deeply toward her. Golden eyes blinked slowly. Heartbeat drumming noisily in her ears, swallowing the sound of the rain and wind's howl.

Her breath, once again, was hitched.

"Causing… brother's death?"

All lines blurred. Everything blurred into one and Lumine gasped for breath.

It was…

The man lifted his head slowly, eyes opening to reveal myriads of emotion in that pool of–

...amber.

Amber-colored petals, amber-colored flowers, amber-colored eyes.

Her chest clenched, ivy crept under her skin, the itch in her throat returned. Why did she come to the realization so late? Because she turned blind eyes on it? Because she might hate that person for taking Aether away from her?

Where ignorance is bliss, 'Tis folly to be wise.

Lumine had thought that she was good at pretending to be ignorant – at pretending, at masking things, at convincing herself that she was better not knowing what orwhocaused Aether's illness and death. But sometimes truths came approaching even without being asked.

Aether's unrequited love was Zhongli?

How?

A forced laugh, a snort, painful as it sounded, escaped her as she stared at the man in disbelief. "So it is really more than just a 'dear friend'. At least for brother's part."

Lumine did not realize that she was gripping the edge of the table so hard, or how she was standing from the stool to look down on the man across her. Her lips were tugged into a smile, but her eyes pronounced disbelief and–

"Not only him," her voice was weak, almost engulfed by the rain, "but also my brother?"

He took everyone away.

She should not feel betrayed, especially when she only knew him as her customer with no personal relationship. The closest personal relationship he had with her was that he was Aether's 'dear friend', or better yet, Aether'sunrequited love.

Zhongli gave her a questioning look, an eyebrow arched and his smooth, deep voice rang. "Him who?"

She wanted to laugh. Of course, he would not realize it. It was as Childe said; the man was as dense as ever.

Lumine wanted to answer him, but a couple of things held her back. One; it was not her place to disclose such a personal thing, and two; that she was having difficulty breathing. Whether it was from the disease or the surprise that taken over her, she did not know. All she knew was that something was suffocating her–hell, everything suffocated her.

Where was her place? Where was it that she could breathe properly? Not here, not in Aether's grave, and definitely not in her shop.

"Mister Zhongli, I–" a sharp gasp, "thank you for… the talk. And for the tea. It was delicious."

The chair behind her created an ugly scraping sound against the floor when her legs pushed against it, but it barely registered in her head. An alarm was set off in her head, and the only thing she knew she needed was to get away from there.

Lumine did not bother to let his surprised shout of her name stopped her. She pushed some moras to the table before dashed away from the teahouse and out to the pouring rain.

Everything was hurt.

Her throat, her chest, her head, her heart. The mixture between the pain from her illness,hanahakidisease, and the truth slapped her right in her face. Even so, as her eyes were blurred – from the rain? from the tears? she did not even know if she was crying or not – and as her lungs protested from the lack of oxygen, her legs refused to stop running.

The rain, Lumine thought, she was grateful it was raining hard today. No one was out in this weather and, at last, she was free from pitying gazes even though she was now standing still in the middle of the road.

She recognized this road. It was the road that led her back to her shop, toAether'sshop, and Lumine thought it was the last place she wanted to be today. But, again, her feet dragged her closer and closer to the shop, only stopping a few meters away from it as watery eyes spotted a figure of a man standing in front of her shop, beneath the small canopy in front of the shop's window.

Her eyes caught a flicker of burning ember, perhaps it was a lit cigar rested in-between the man's lips, but the scent of tobacco was lost in the rain.

Lumine continued to stare emptily, quietly at that blob of ember, and she let out a shudder when the man seemed to notice her presence.

"Ojou-chan?" he called.

At the sound of his voice, it felt like a gentle breeze was brushing past her.

Golden eyes only blinked at that, watching mutedly as fingers pulled the cigar away and dropped it to the puddle around his feet before he took off his jacket and approached her. A make-shift umbrella, she thought inwardly, because, before she realized it, he was already standing in front of her and the rain no longer touched her.

She let him drag her to the canopy, away from the rain, but closer to the very place that suffocated her. Her squirm was in vain as his grip on her shoulder was firm but gentle at the same time. His jacket was slung over her drenched dress shirt, providing little warmth that Lumine did not realize needed.

"What are you doing in the rain,ojou-chan? Where's your umbrella?" he asked, wiping the water away from her face with his shirt sleeve. "You just recovered from that great cough and already out in the rain. You're going to catch a cold at this rate."

Lumine wanted to laugh, but when she opened her mouth, it was a small whimper that came out instead. "I forgot to bring my umbrella."

Blue eyes narrowed at her reply and her vision blurred once again. Her chest constricted painfully and her head was thumping uncomfortably. She could not breathe, she was suffocating, but she smothered it all.

"Ojou-chan, are you okay?" he asked again with more insistence.

And she nodded slowly, golden eyes locked with his blue ones. "I'm okay, Childe."

But all she got was a frown from him.

"Don't lie,ojou-chan," he hissed, "you're crying."

Crying?

"Oh," she blinked and then realized too late how tears had cascaded down her cheek. "Ah, yes. I think I am."

Lumine opened her mouth to gasp as her lungs screamed for air, for oxygen, tobreathe, but it felt like all her gasps were futile. There was a sound of a sharp suck of breath followed by the clicking of the tongue, and she felt the hand that gripped her shoulder was tightening.

The next thing she knew was that warmth engulfed her, the scent of tobacco mixed with the rain scent filled her nose, and she felt strong arms wrapped around her. Her tears created a damp spot on his maroon shirt, and only then she realized that Childe was hugging her.

Why? Because she looked pitiful? Because she looked miserable? Could she have this? Had him,Childe, hugging her for whatever his reason was?

But why was it always him that got to see her in her every miserable state? It was her longing when he first visited her, then her coughs, then her disdain, and now her vulnerability. Was it not enough to have her relied on, attached, trusted him already?

It felt so wrong.

So so so wrong.

Lumine closed her eyes. She ignored the itch in her throat and inhaled the scent of tobacco mixed with the scent of the rain and the faint smell of musky earth. It was the scent that overtook Aether's scent in the shop area lately – Childe's scent.

Yes, it felt so wrong for her to be like this, to bask in his warmth and smell and kindness.

But it felt so right as well.

Here, outside Aether's shop. Here, within the engulfing pair of arms. Here, with Childe.

I can breathe here.

Notes:

hello! thank you for reading the fourth chapter of this chilumi hanahaki AU, i hope you enjoyed the ride! this chapter was very hard to write for an unknown reason... but i hope you found this good if you notice, i referred to Thomas Gray's poem for some lines in italics. anyway! leave me some kudos and comments as they motivate me greatly! constructive criticism is always welcome too! i'll see you in the next chapter, please look forward to it!

ps. thank you Anni for listening to my endless whines and Siena, if you read this, i miss you so much ehe.

Chapter 5: pansy

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter fornotes.)

Chapter Text

Childe knew two things when he first saw Lumine standing in the middle of the empty street without an umbrella shielding her from rain. One, her cough might worsen than the one he heard through the window yesterday, and two, she was crying.

The girl had been standing there rigidly, a hand clenching hard on her chest, and he could see how she was breathing heavily as if she had been running. She was completely drenched to the boot, her black clothes dripping with rainwater and her golden hair lacking its shine as it clung to her face. And her face–

Hollow.

Questions arose within him, but he set those aside and dropped his burning cigarette to the puddle around him. She made no move at all, even after he called her like his voice went through her. Childe quickly took off his jacket and used it to shield her from rain. Looking closer at her, it seemed like she was in a trance, except the sound of her gasp proved him the otherwise. He grabbed her hand and dragged her away from the rain, and slung his jacket over her drenched clothes.

"What are you doing in the rain,ojou-chan?" he asked calmly, holding back the surprise that emerged. "Where's your umbrella?"

But she gave him no reply. She just stared at him silently with a couple of deep breaths. Childe wiped away the water on her face and furrowed his eyebrow when he felt her cold skin. He held back a sigh, then.

"You just recovered from that great cough and already out in the rain. You're going to catch a cold at this rate," he added, and this time, she replied in a whimper.

"I forgot to bring my umbrella."

More questions appeared in his head. It had been cloudy since the dawn and for her to be forgetting her umbrella was something that he found to be impossible.

Unless she's being distracted by something, she usually won't make any mistakes.

That was what Childe had gathered from watching her work for seven days. Even if he distracted her by throwing questions or talking about things unrelated to her or his work, she rarely made any mistakes. It was very impressive of her to be entirely focused on her work while holding a lengthy talk with him.

So, this was weird. Really weird.

His eyes narrowed at her reply, finding it suspicious and odd, but said nothing more to it. However, Childe could not shove aside the fact that she seemed to be breathless, which he thought to be the source of her tears. Somehow, Childe knew that she was in pain, but he could not be sure if that was really the case. Did the rain trigger her cough? Was it more painful than the one she had yesterday?

He remembered how she shrieked and jerked her body away from him as if he hurt her with his touch. Her voice was raspy; the remnants of the cough was still there somewhere in her. She had a panicked look on her face when she lifted her head, had her eyes all teary, and he watched in surprise as tears rolled down to her cheek.

"I'm fine, no need to worry."

As if he would believe that. Evensenseifelt the same way. There was something weird about her, and if that cough was the same as the one she had one week ago, then it must have been worsened.

But he never expected her to be the type of person who forced themselves to the point of exhaustion, the self-destructive type. That was kind of contradicting of her – to be so focused on her work buthatingthe subject of her work at the same time. Childe had never encountered one who lasted long with that type, even in his line of work.

But there she was, a girl younger than him by probably two or three years, who overworked herself with something she hated to the point of not taking proper care of herself.

Childe had to applaud her tenacity and strength. But today, they were nowhere to be seen as tears fell to her cheek relentlessly, without even her noticing it. Yes, he observed those glistening golden eyes; they were hollow.

"Ojou-chan, are you okay?" he asked again with more emphasis on his words. He did not sense a lie from her reply earlier, but he knew exactly that she was not fine either.

But she nodded slowly. "I'm fine, Childe."

Even the way his name rolling out of her lips was so out of it.

"Don't lie,ojou-chan," he hissed and frowned, "you're crying."

"Oh," was her initial response before she seemed to realize how true it was. "Ah, yes. I think I am."

Childe clicked his tongue, taking a sharp inhale when he realized how she looked like a wilting flower, like the yellow tulip she gave him one week ago. He caught the tremble from her, swiftly reminding him how cold her cheek was, and he pulled her into him.

She was cold. Cold and soaked to the bone. Lumine was trembling in his arms, but the gasp receded. Childe was glad that she did not seem to be coughing again, but if she kept her drenched clothes, she would get sick in no time. He then asked her for the key to her shop and opened it.

"Take a hot shower and warm yourself,ojou-chan," he said, pushing her gently, "take your time. I'll be here."

"What about you?" Lumine asked and looked at his wet shirt.

He brushed her wet hair and smiled, trying to lighten the gloomy air surrounding her. "I'll be fine."

She stared at him for a second longer before making her way to her living quarter. The door behind her was closed with a soft click, and Childe let out a sigh as he crossed his hands. He gazed at the closed door with a frown—Lumine was like a different person than the one he met daily. Something must have happened to her.

Pulling out another cigarette and lighting it up, Childe walked to the open door of the shop entrance and leaned against the frame. His gaze fell to the water puddles on the street as he savored the familiar taste of the cigarette. The water reflected the grey sky above him, and he thought that the rain might last for quite a while, if not all day.

Still, he could not help but wonder what she was doing in the middle of the rain, dressed in all black.

Black. The color of mourning.

Didn't she say her brother had passed away?

A hand raked through his damp hair as he lifted his head to watch the gloomy sky and tasted more of the tobacco. Archon, he sighed, was he so slow to connect things together. She must have had returned from visiting her brother's grave.

So early in the morning?

He glanced at the clock. The shorthand barely pointing at eight, and the longhand rested on top of the ten. It was not yet eight, and she already returned. Childe arrived at her shop somewhere before seven, and it was dark, and the door was locked. The knock got him no answer, and it was suddenly pouring, forcing him to take shelter under the canopy of the shop's front.

What time was it when she departed? Was it pure coincidence that he ran into her?

Because Childe had planned on making today's visit a brief one, only dropping off the pastry he bought and had his share of morning coffee. He had quite the busy day today, though it might be only for his part because surely, today's work could be pushed for a later date. Only he could not afford to do that as he had a plan on a certain date.

Yet, now, upon noticing her presence back in the room, Childe knew he had to push back his work. He glanced at her, meeting her silent gaze that lacked the initial emptiness and looked as though she had reverted back to her usual self, and exhaled lightly. There were two cups of coffee resting on the table, and he immediately knew she would not chase him away, which was the opposite of what she did yesterday.

Another deep inhale and a shallow sigh later, he turned to her direction, still leaning against the doorframe, and noticed how the air around his favorite florist had not changed at all despite her effort to look neutral.

And Childe intended to know why.

Lumine wondered if there were more to her tears than just water and salty taste.

Maybe there was sadness in them, or maybe there was pain too. Maybe there was more than just that, like anger, for example, or disbelief, or confusion, or even surprise. Maybe there was a mixture of those unpleasant feelings that rooted deep inside her chest within those tears. The list of what might be possible could go on long and endless because Lumine knew she should be feeling something,anything, after what had happened earlier today.

All that guess spun in her head, but nothing gave her a definite answer. She guessed it was fair. After all, right now, Lumine could barely feel any of them.

Blurry eyes watched how hot water trickled down from the showerhead and fell to her face. They slid down her neck, down her naked body, and washed away the remnants of soap and rainwater. Tears seemed to fall from her eyes when she tilted her head down to watch those foams gathered around the drain like the cumulonimbus clouds that she saw earlier this morning. She could easily mistake them for the hot water, but the burning sensation behind her eyes felt too real for her to deny them.

Those tears rested on her chin, merged into one big droplet, and fell to the puddle around her feet. They were either full or devoid of feelings and no one, not even her, knew the answer. The lump in her chest seemed to be growing, yet she felt nothing at the same time. It was a weird sensation but compared to the grief she felt during Aether's funeral, this one was a lot worse of a feeling.

Back at his funeral, at least Lumine knew that she was grieving, that she was sad and devastated at his sudden departure. Now, even as she knew that she had many things dwelling inside her, she barely felt any of them. It was as if she was stripped of her ability to feel anything. To be empty yet brimming with various feelings—she knew it was the worst.

An itch broke all over her body, and Lumine rubbed her upper arms with her hands. Rub became a harsh scrub when it did not fade, and it felt like ivy crawled under her skin and around her. She could feel it making its way to her chest from her throat. If her heart resided somewhere around there, she was sure the crawling plant tried to wrap itself around it to prevent her from tapping into it.

Maybe those petals were the manifestation of ivy growing in her lungs. Perhaps it was also what squeezed her heart, making it clench uneasily as she dared to save a spot in there for a man whose heart definitely did not belong to her.

And for being presumptuous and selfish as well.

But if the ivy was wrapping around her heart so she could not tap into it to feel her feelings, then Lumine should be grateful for it. Perhaps it was for the best, she thought to herself. Because maybe it was simply too much for her to take if she were to feel all those feelings.

And at least, she thought again, she no longer felt suffocated. That alone should be enough already.

The faucet let out a squeak when she turned it, and hot water stopped pouring on her. Golden eyes, which no longer blurry yet still hot and uncomfortable, disappeared behind the pale eyelids, and she let out a deep sigh. But even that could not erase the heaviness or the ever-growing lump in her chest. The ivy—maybe it continued to wrap around her heart until she accepted its existence. Perhaps that was why the heaviness persisted, why the lump grew, and why she started to feel suffocated again.

Lumine could not help but question what that ivy was. Did it exist only to wrap around her and suffocate her?

"For now, let's ignore it," she whispered to herself.

The glass pane that separated her shower made a rattling sound as she slid it open. Lumine walked out and reached for her towel placed on the edge of the sink. Her eyes gazed at the towel momentarily before she dove her face into the softness of the fabric.

She could smell the faintest of Aether's scent there.

Right, this is the towel he often used to dry his long hair.

Lumine remembered how Aether would sit in front of her with his half-dry hair, and she would pat the towel on his hair because he could not be bothered to dry it himself. Once it was dry, she would brush them, applied some hair oil to it because his long hair was too beautiful to be neglected, and braid them. Sometimes, when the day was unbearably hot, she would arrange it into a bun, but he preferred it to be braided.

Back then, she had her hair grown too, even though it did not come anywhere near his length. And if it were not for his height and built, people could mistake them whenever they walk side by side with their back facing them.

Back then, Aether would scold her if she tried to cut her hair short. But Lumine had it cut short immediately once his funeral was finished. Her face alone was enough to make her remember him. Lumine did not want to be reminded of him whenever she saw her hair.

Then again, everything around the shop was a good reminder of him.

Him, and the guilt and regret she had inside her.

She pulled away from the towel, wiped the water off her body, and saw the misty mirror along with her obscured reflection in it. It was okay, she told herself, if today she was reminded of Aether when she saw her own face, it was alright. After all, she had decided that she would let herself weep and drown in the memory of him. Today was his day, and he deserved to be remembered by the only family he had.

She pulled a sponge that sat on the corner of the sink and wiped the mist away.

Aether stared at her with a smile as gentle as ever, with golden eyes that crinkled into a crescent moon, with a tilt of his head that seemed to ask herwhat's wrong, Lumi?

Nothing, brother. Nothing is wrong, but nothing feels right as well.

Aether blinked, and it was her own reflection that stared back at her, then—eyes lacking the redness she had expected and lips forming a straight line across her face. Lumine had been crying, maybe she started crying the moment she left Zhongli's teahouse, but she simply did not realize it because the rain was hitting her.

(She hoped it hit her harder than how the truth had slapped her.)

Honestly, she had prepared herself to see her messy appearance staring back at her, an appearance that was close to what her sudden outburst yesterday had left her. However, it turned out that the look she had on her face was a lot calmer, more collected, and displayed nothing.

Nothing, just like how she felt right now. The ivy was still wrapped tight around her like a knot and refused to go.

Until when?

She did not know.

However, despite the calmness she had on her face, her mind barely came close to it. She knew how thoughts were scattered messily in her head, fading in and out, ebbing and flowing, and it was just a matter of time until everything fell apart. The unpleasant thump she felt on the back of her head might come from it—the information (or thetruth) that Zhongli told her. Lumine could barely let them sink in her head, barely able to process them, and let alone accept them.

So, she left them. And whether they created more scatter in her head or tied into one big ball of a mess, she would just let them be. Lumine had a hunch she needed all the calmness she could have today, even if it was just her face. She decided that it was a good thing because no one would have guessed that she had just cried.

No one but Childe.

Childe was the one who noticed and mentioned that she was crying, after all. The man had come to her shop without knowing that she closed it, and perhaps it was by pure luck that she returned from Zhongli's teahouse to the shop instead of any other place she could go to, like Xiangling's and Paimon's place for one. But she had paid no attention to where her legs brought her, and once she did, she was already meters away from her shop.

And definitely, it was not because she knew he would be there to visit her.

(Or maybe she knew and unconsciously headed there. After all, she could breathe whenever he was around.)

Childe was just a distance away, a couple of doors, and turns away from her, probably sitting on his usual stool in the shop area. He had told her to go warm herself and change her soaked clothes, and Lumine complied amidst all the mess in her head. He would wait there, he said, so she could just take her time.

Somehow, Lumine felt closer to him, even closer than how he was on last evening. There was a sense of familiarity in him, a comforting one that she had never realized up until now. The distance between them had shortened somehow, and maybe that was why she noticed it and was able to tell him a little bit about Aether. But Lumine did not allow herself to think too far about it because she would want more of him when she knew such a wish was pointless.

And she would go and perceive his kindness as something else.

Lumine closed her eyes and buried her face once again in her towel. Aether's scent had gone away, replaced by the smell of her shampoo, and she wrapped it around her before stepping out of the bathroom to her room. She put on whatever clothes that seemed comfortable to wear, whatever her eyes landed on first, and it turned out to be a simple white dress with short sleeves. It was a striking contrast to what she wore previously, which was currently washed along with Childe's jacket.

What were the odds that this dress was also happened to be Aether's present for her on their birthday last year?

"I like seeing you dressed in white, Lumi,"he had said that when she tried it on,"because you look even brighter in white."

Her fingers gingerly brushed the dress's fabric, which reminded her how she expressed her love for this dress for its smoothness and lightness. She remembered that she gave him a set of brand-new pruning scissors he had been eyeing since forever. The ones he used started to become rusty, and Lumine knew it would be the perfect present for him because it would last for a long time. Or at least that was what the seller said.

Now, those scissors would have to be satisfied to be used by her instead of their original owner.

Her feet dragged her away from the mirror, away from the phantom image of Aether watching her twirl around in her new dress, and into the kitchen to brew two cups of coffee. Unfortunately, out of habit, her hand dumped in a spoonful of sugar to her cup, and she sighed inwardly. Unlike the other day, Lumine needed black coffee today, one with a strong bitter taste to keep her head clear from those scattered thoughts. However, it would be a waste if she threw it away, so Lumine brought it along with her to the shop area. Her feet, though, stopped at the sight of the empty stool that Childe usually occupied.

A soft gust of wind brushed past her, and Lumine swept her gaze to where it came from. Together with the sight of an open door of the shop entrance, she then found the man in question standing there.

Childe was leaning against the doorframe, his head inclined to one side as he stared at the rain. A cigarette was stuck between his lips, supported by his fingers, with ember turned bright when he inhaled slowly, and smoke swirled in the air slowly when he exhaled. A refreshing wind entered from the open door, blowing away the smoke and carried the scent of burnt tobacco her way.

There was an air of muted fatigue when he sighed out the smoke. Blue eyes narrowed by a fraction at whatever they were looking at before he once again dragged a slow, quiet inhale.

Lumine had never seen him smoking around her. Never. He would only smoke when he was waiting for Zhongli outside her shop, but never during his visit to her shop. Of course, Lumine would tell him that her shop was a no-smoking area if he tried to smoke, but the man never did it.

The door behind her was closed with the barest click, and Lumine walked to the table to put the two cups there. She pulled a stool just as quietly, all while her eyes lingered on his somewhat slouched back. He looked different when he smoked, even more so without his jacket and with the long sleeves of his maroon shirt folded to his elbow. Childe looked more relaxed, more casual than he usually was, and more unguarded.

But she could not shake the feeling of somewhat sensing the pensiveness that radiated from him. Another puff of smoke swirled in the space and quickly faded as the wind blew it away. Lumine noticed something akin to melancholy somewhere in his figure that seemed to fit the gloomy weather just right.

It made her think that she was not alone today, that she was not the only one who had things, thoughts, in their head.

Those blue eyes, once focused on something out in the rain, glanced at her and met her gaze. Whatever that once swum inside those pools (melancholy?loneliness?) was gone. A small smile grew after he studied her, and he dragged another long inhale from his cigarette.

"White suits you better than black,ojou-chan," he spoke after blowing out smoke silently. "You look pale donned in black."

She did not know why but a laugh escaped her. Perhaps because it was oddly similar to what Aether told her?

Lumine spared him one last glance before those golden eyes shifted to see her coffee. She sipped it slowly and quietly grimaced. It was too sweet. "Really?"

"Mhm," Childe nodded, pulling the cigarette from his lips and rested it between his index and middle finger. He turned toward her, back still slouch and leaning to the doorframe with a hand slipped inside his pocket. Again, those blue eyes were staring hole at her.

Lumine opted to close her eyes, trying to focus on the bitter taste rather than the sweetness, only to open them when she heard the jingle sound rang amidst the trickle of rain. Childe closed the door, cigarette no longer within his hand, and approached the table. His eyes never left her, always staring at her almost curiously, and Lumine fought a fidget. She circled her hand around the cup to stop it from making any unnecessary gesture—scratching her neck, brushing her bangs, fisting her dress.

She tried her best to ignore his stare like she usually did, which worked most of the time. However, it seemed that it would not work today.

Because Childe walked to her side and pulled the stool from under the table to set it next to her. Lumine would have watched him with wide eyes if she did not hold her gaze on the purple pansies in the middle of the table. Then, again, he sat without so much of distance between them. Just like yesterday.

But it was different from yesterday. Instead of having her heart beating unnecessarily faster or feeling the itch on the back of her throat, Lumine found herself not reacting to it in the slightest. The proximity—she thought she would be bothered by it, but she did not. Everything felt stagnant around her, unchanging, unmoving, and she wondered if she had grown accustomed to having him this close around her.

"Ojou-chan, you look gloomy today," Childe suddenly said, breaking the silence that once was filled only by the trickle of rain with his voice.

Eyes that absorbed the purple color of the pansies blinked slowly. Her fingers interlaced around the cup, unconsciously hugging it tighter. Her lips parted slightly, but words failed to form even though the answer was right at the tip of her tongue. She sipped her coffee again before giving Childe a side-long glance.

"You too," her reply was quiet, almost drowned in the rain that seemed to be pouring harder.

"Me?" he asked with a hint of amusement in it.

"You don't usually smoke in here," she answered impassively.

"And you don't usually wear black," he returned, which Lumine winced slightly. But Childe caught it. She knew he did. "You were crying too."

Lumine glanced at him and found him looking at her with a frown. Childe was a persistent man, curious too. Those two were good qualities to have in his line of work, she supposed. Or maybe it was just his nature, and it was fine too. Or itshouldbe fine, except she was afraid that she might mistake his curiosity as something else.

Like worry or care, and it was very presumptuous and selfish of her if she perceived it that way.

Shameless...

A sigh escaped her when she found no sign of him backing away. She supposed she could spare him some story, and if she did, maybe she could feel the lightness that she felt yesterday, the one that appeared after she first mentioned Aether to him. It was just by a fleeting moment, but even so, Lumine wanted to savor it again.

"Today is the twenty-third of the month," Lumine started with her gaze fell back to see her coffee, "and every twenty-third of the month, I closed the shop for a break."

She felt Childe shifted next to her, probably picking up his coffee to take another sip of it. He then let out a hum, nudging her to go on, and Lumine wondered if his curiosity would stop after this.

"Two months ago, on the twenty-third, my brother passed away," she continued; voice trembled slightly, but she managed. "And this morning, I went to visit him."

That should be enough, Lumine told herself, yet there was no sign of the lump, the heaviness in her chest being lifted at all. Where was that flighty feeling? Did she become unable to feel it, too, along with her feelings? Because of the ivy?

Then... should she tell more of it, more about Aether to him?

(Tell him.)

"My brother, his name is Aether," a soft laugh escaped her when she saw through her peripheral vision that Childe had stopped midway on drinking his coffee. "I don't know why you're looking for him, but I hope my brother didn't cause any trouble with you or the Fatui."

Childe placed the cup back on the table, a hand was brought to his face, and Lumine heard a shallow sigh coming from him. "No, he didn't."

Lumine glanced at him with a slight tilt of her head. "Then why?"

"Well,senseioften mentioned him," he replied, voice unusually quiet and solemn, and Lumine held back a flinch when he mentioned that title. "Whenever we were, whatever the occasion was,senseialways mentioned his name once with a sad ring to it."

A weary smile made its home on his face. He glanced her way, meeting her eyes, and she found a strange swirl inside them. It reminded her of those amber eyes that gazed at her after those words of apology spilled out of him and rang in her ears. Those eyes... they both shared the same message, the exact meaning that Lumine found astonishing and somewhat unbelievable.

Pain.

Lumine stood slowly, taking the small vase of pansies with her, and walked to the sink. Purple color filled her view, and the trickling of the rain sounded loud in her ears. She tried to distract herself from remembering Zhongli's voice and apology, but the tightness in her chest could not be ignored so easily.

The ivy inside her grew again.

"When I askedsenseiabout that name, he only mentioned this shop," he added with a small laugh that sounded tired. "That was why I asked you,ojou-chan, but it was only natural for you not to tell me, and I've expected it."

Of course, she would avoid talking about Aether with anyone and everyone. Under any circumstances, Lumine doubted she would tell a stranger that Childe was that day. Only one week had passed since then, but now she was telling Childe about Aether. She wondered if she had regarded Chide differently compared to then.

Was this why she felt closer to him?

"I know I shouldn't be saying this," he spoke again, "but in a way, I envy your brother,ojou-chan."

Lumine pressed her lips together, unsure if she needed to answer that or not. She took out the pansies, set them aside, emptied the vase, and filled it with fresh water.

"Me too," she whispered, but it was swallowed by the sound of water pouring out of the faucet. "I envy him too."

Somehow, in a way... I envy you, brother.

Childe did not hear it, and she let it be. There would not be anything happening whether he heard it or not, but she was glad that the sound of water drowned her voice. Lumine put the flowers back in the vase and stared at them again. Think of me and remember me. The pansies seemed to be screaming those words, and she felt like she could hear Aether's voice saying that to her, probably echoed from some corner around this shop.

"Brother had a weak constitution," Lumine said and felt a throb in her chest, "and Mister Zhongli is knowledgeable with medicine. Brother must have had been acquainted with him when Mister Zhongli came to buy some flowers."

Most likely, that was the case. After she left for Mondstadt, after she busied herself trying to find any clue about their parents, after she left him and his flower shop, somewhere along that way, Aether must have had met him. There was something in Aether that attracted people to get to know him better, to associate themselves with him, like a flower attracting butterflies. And Zhongli might be one of them.

But Aether never mentioned him in his letters, and neither she ever had any suspicion about it. Zhongli never existed in his letters to her like a secret he could never tell her.

And so was hishanahakidisease.

Lumine could not help but wonder. Between the time Zhongli bought glaze lilies from this flower shop, just as written in the log Aether left her and him meeting Aether for the first time; which one happened first.

Could it be they had been acquainted even before she left Liyue?

"You didn't know?" he asked.

Though, undoubtedly,definitely,whichever happened first, Aether would still fall for him.

Like it was his fate.

Lumine blinked, pulling herself away from her quiet musing, and replied to him quietly. "I don't."

No words were exchanged after that – they just died together with her shutting her lips and turning them into a straight line. She kept her gaze on the purple flowers while Childe shifted on his seat. A light flashed outside, and thunder rumbled far high in the sky.

Everything was still, but the ivy in her chest continued to grow, and Lumine could not discern whether it was herhanahakior something else or both. A memory of Zhongli bowing his head deep at her suddenly flashed in her mind, and his words repeatedly rang in her ears like a broken record.

"I deeply apologize–"

Stop.

But they did not listen to her. Nothing ever listened to her today, and Zhongli's amber eyes were all she saw with her mind's eye. It was as if her memory of what had happened earlier burst, and they were scattered messily in her head. The sight of Zhongli pouring her tea, him extending his umbrella, him placing a glaze lily on Aether's grave, him walking next to her wordlessly, and his amber eyes that overlapped with Aether's amber petals and flowers.

And just then, Lumine finally realized that it was not only the petals and the ivy that suffocated her.

Her own mind did too.

A muted laugh escaped her, making her shoulders tremble. She set down the vase next to the sink, then crouched and buried her face to her knees. The painful thump on the back of her head returned together with the throb within her chest.

Funny how even her own mind tried to suffocate her, Lumine snorted inwardly, a hand clenched hard on the fabric of her dress around her chest. As if those petals were not enough of torture already, she added.

"Maybe it's just our fate."

But she once heard that one did not born only with their karmic fate, but also with blessings. If reincarnation was real, what kind of life would she have lived on her previous ones to deserve such fate? Which part of her current life had been a blessing, really?

The loud scrapping sound barely registered in her head, but the next thing she knew was the presence of someone crouching next to her with a hand on her back. Right, Lumine mused as she lifted her head to see a pair of blue eyes were peering at her; she had forgotten about Childe. A frown was etched on his face, replacing the small smile that once rested there.

"I thought you were crying again," he murmured with a sigh and helped her to stand.

She thought so too. But surprisingly, her face was dry, and only the back of her eyes that burned—no blurry sight, no tears, nothing. Lumine let him lead her back to their seat, but instead of sitting next to each other, he made her face his way. His frown seemed to deepen as she did not say anything to him.

"No need to hold back,ojou-chan," Childe said again as he brushed a strand of hair away from her face. "Cry if you want."

But Lumine felt nothing. Back then, she cried because of how painful it was to be unable to breathe, to desperately sucking in the air but not getting any relieved feelings from it, to be feeling so helpless. Now she felt nothing; calm even though her mind was in chaos, but nothing. The painful thumps on her head, the throb in her chest, and the flooding memories bothered her. Yet, even those were not worth mentioning.

It seemed that she could no longer cry, so Lumine only took a deep breath in a poor attempt to silence her noisy mind.

And maybe she needed to tell him more about Aether.

This heaviness is uncomfortable.

"It's not that great of a story," she said after a beat, "but do you want to listen to it, still?"

Childe nodded wordlessly, and Lumine reached for her coffee, already lukewarm by now, and emptied it to moisten her throat that went dry all of a sudden. She kept the empty cup in her hands as her gaze focused on the residue of the coffee inside it.

"Between us, brother was more prone to get sick. Back when we were children, he would be the one who got sick often," Lumine said with a low voice. "As we grew older, it didn't change, but at least he's no longer as frail."

Which reminded her of the days where Lumine had to take care of him after he fell into a pond. They were seven, and Aether was walking on the edge of it when his foot stepped on something slippery, and he slipped. While it was shallow water, the temperature was not something either of them was familiar with.

Lumine still remembered how he apologized for being sick and looked so guilty and sad for falling into the pond.

"Maybe he didn't want to burden me, but he didn't tell me in his letters that he was sick," she continued.

"Letter?" Childe asked.

Lumine nodded faintly, her grip on the cup tightened as memories of her reading his last letter, the one that told her about his illness. "I was away to Mondstadt for about six months, leaving him and this shop alone, and only returned here right before he–"

She trailed off.

Remembering that day always hurt her, but this time, she felt nothing to it. It was just her tongue that refused to spell that word as if once she said it, everything would immediately tumble down. In the end, Lumine only sighed, and a small, thin smile made its way to her face.

"Since then, I took over his shop. It's been only two months since then, but I can say I'm adapting well to the routine."

And to the sense of constantly missing Aether and silencing her thoughts for thinking and remembering too much about him. She also managed to stop crying as soon as she woke up and saw how the bed across hers was empty.

"Why did you go to Mondstadt?" Childe asked carefully after a beat, but she caught his curiosity. But only for today, Lumine decided, only for today she would try to satisfy him and his curiosity about her.

Because she used him to get a feeling of lightness too.

"I was looking for our parents. We were orphans, but we remember our parents."

And the way they abandoned us in Liyue too.

It was one cold day in Autumn, in some corner of an empty, small street of Liyue Harbor, they were told to wait for their parents as they went to buy some foods to eat. Aether was sick then, and Lumine tried her best to keep him warm with her small body and a light jacket. Half an hour passed, and it became an hour, then two, and then two and a half, but they never returned.

They were just two days away from the first day they first arrived in Liyue Harbor, but they had no place to stay – their family never stayed too long in one place and kept on moving. And it was not for reasons she did not know.

"I can help you if you want,ojou-chan," Childe offered, and Lumine shook her head. The thin smile on her face started to feel heavy, and she wondered if it would last until she finished telling her story.

"Thank you, Childe, but I..." she trailed off again but quickly resumed it before he could say anything. "It's no longer important."

Because Aether was no longer here. Because it was Aether, her own disdain for their irresponsible parents, and a tiny wish that they could be whole again that drove her to find them. And once she found them, she would slap some senses to them and drag them back to Liyue.

Of course, Lumine would lie if her selfish part did not play anything in this. She had been longing for the freedom Mondstadt offered, wanting to go to the so-called city of freedom for years, yet never had the chance to. Or lacked the courage. After all, there were too many restrictions for them here in Liyue; too many judging eyes and nasty rumors were spread about them.

Perhaps it was the price they had to pay for running away from their homeland.

That's why it's uncomfortable here in Liyue...

But Aether loved Liyue Harbor, and there were people who loved him too here. Aether was strong enough to not let those bad rumors about them affect him and continued to focus on his shop and those who loved him.

But Lumine was not as strong, yet she knew she could not leave either.

Because Aether was here.

And now that Aether had passed away, she started asking herself what made her stay. Lumine hated flowers, she hated to be reminded of Aether whenever she worked, and she hated how she dwelled on his death even if she could not stop help it.

But she stayed despite everything.

A shaky sigh went past her lips. Her mind had become one big ball of a mess, and it started to become unbearable. Lumine placed the cup back to the table, not trusting herself to hold it any longer because it might slip out of her hold and made a more unnecessary mess.

The silence stretched long between, and she savored it. There was only the sound of rain, his gaze which lingered on her, and her eyes that refused to meet him. Something inside her told her that those ocean-like orbs might be able to see the mess deep inside her.

Then she felt warmth wrapped around her hand and realized it was his hand. A thumb brushed the back of her hand softly as if reassuring her. Lumine caught a familiar flutter that emerged inside her, but it was quickly disappeared when she heard him.

"You've been brave,ojou-chan."

There was a slight squeeze on her hand, and suddenly, everything burst inside her. A wave crashed against her violently and drowned her. It made her chest clenched so hard that she thought she would choke again. But; a blink, a deep breath, a shaky sigh, and Lumine knew that it was all her feelings she tried to feel and that there was more than just water and salty taste in her tears.

There was sadness in them.

"Childe, do you remember when you said this shop gives you comfort? How this shop makes it easy for you to breathe?"

When Lumine lifted her head, she saw only confusion in his feature. Her other free hand grasped the fabric of her dress tightly, clenching them without care if it created an ugly crease later. Her lips tugged into a smile, but Childe did not return it.

"It's because this shop holds life in it, because brother gave his all to this shop," she paused briefly to suck a sharp breath as the throb, the lump, the tightness in her chest grew, "because this shop holds brother's soul in it."

Words spilled as her scattered thoughts spun inside her. Lumine felt the painful thump on her head and the heaviness in her chest, but they were overwhelmed by the sudden outburst she had.

There was pain too.

"I should have cared more, should have asked brother if he was really fine, should have returned once in a while instead of staying in Mondstadt for months."

Ah, it's all become a jumbled mess.

Everything was a mess. Lumine knew she should not be saying this, should not be telling him more than what she had because it felt like she was showing him her weaknesses. But her mask cracked, and she could not gather its pieces. Again, Lumine thought disdainfully, she was showing her vulnerable state again.

(But she trusted him. Somehow, she had come to trust and depend on him, and she had been so shameless about it.)

There was anger, disbelief, confusion, and surprise in those tears.

"I shouldn't have been so selfish and ignorant," she said in a murmur. "They bit me back in the end and at the cost of brother instead of anything else."

"Ojou-chan—"

"And it's unfair."

She laughed, but Childe frowned deeply at her. Her smile faltered, her lips trembled, her eyes burned.

It's really unfair…

"Because I—"something fell to her cheek, and it was hot and wet, "I can't breathe in here."

And it was not because of those petals. Not because of the fact that that stupid illness could not be cured, and not even because of the idea that she might die from it. But it was from the way this shop made her remember her dead sibling so easily.

Lumine felt how fast tears were falling, how they welled in her eyes and fell to her cheek even without her blinking. Again and again, over and over, until her eyes became utterly blurry from those tears.

She was breaking again.

"There are too many memories of my brother here," she murmured, "and each time I remember it, I feel guilty."

Lumine saw him shaking his head, but she could not see what kind of expression he made as she could not see through the tears. "It's not your fault."

She raised her hands to her face, covering her tear-stained cheeks and parted lips that let out silent gasps and sobs. The knot, the lump that resided somewhere deep in her chest, fell apart, one by one untangling themselves, and left her with gaping holes.

"How could you be so sure?"

She felt a hand around her shoulders, warm against her skin, gently pulling her forward. Once again, Lumine was filled with the scent of tobacco and musky earth. Sea of maroon filled her blurred sight, and another hand brushed her damp hair as it pushed her to dive deeper into that sea.

"I just know," his voice echoed in her ears, "and if your brother was anything like you, then I can say that for sure."

Ocean might be the proper word to describe this man—unpredictable and somewhat arrogant, yet subtle and calming at times. And now he swept her into his depth, pulling her in with a lull of his own.

"I still can't accept his death..."

Because if I accept it, it feels like I'm going to forget him–

She felt him nodding his head softly. "That's okay."

–yet it's also painful to remember him.

"I miss my brother," Lumine whispered amidst broken sobs. "It's lonely without him."

"And I'm here,ojou-chan," she heard him whisper, and nothing ever felt more reassuring than that.

Lumine did not care what Childe meant by that. It could be anything, she could take it the wrong way, selfishly indulging in that word, but she ignored that part of her who screamed it. Right now, she just wanted to bask in the comforting words he said, grief more about her brother, and let everything out.

And just like how she first arrived back to her shop, Childe was there, holding her flush against him, letting her tears stained his shirt. Childe was there, and she savored the mixture of tobacco and rain and earthy musk scent.

She indulged in him.

"I'm here."

Notes:

hello! i know it's been two weeks since i last update this, so thank you for waiting! i... hope the wait is worth it and i apologize for the long delay. thank you so much for your support! we reached 500 kudos and i'm pikachu face. as usual, constructive criticism is much appreciated and kudos and comments never fail to motivate me! thank you for reading and i'll see you in my next update!

scream to me on my twitter! xxccxy

Chapter 6: iris

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter fornotes.)

Chapter Text

The first time Lumine noticed the addition of deep red amidst the blue that was her petals was earlier this morning.

She was yanked awake suddenly—her dream dissolved into soft linen sheets and the sensation of walking barefoot by the beach while holding Aether's hand dispersed into tingles from the rough rousing. Lumine would have remembered the golden hair aflutter in the ocean wind, would have remembered what he said while she was watching it, if not for the rough cough that rang in her ears and jerked her spine painfully.

Her immediate response was to push herself up with a hand that flew to her open mouth, and her back bent so low as if she were curling. Then, she coughed harshly that its sounds bounced in the quiet space.

Those coughs left her breathless and panting as if she had been running miles and the burning sensation that felt worse than yesterday's spread within her chest. Somewhere deep in her, needles pricked her each time she inhaled deeply to ease the burn, so Lumine had no choice but to let the imaginary fire burned her.

That was when Lumine decided to focus her hazy eyes on the fallen petals on her laps. She counted it, anxiety ate her as she did that, but a tiny wave of relief washed over her when she found it had the same amount as yesterday.

The red color, however, left her unsettled.

That color was not foreign to her eyes, given she always had red roses in stock, but it still surprised her nonetheless. At first, Lumine thought she had coughed out petals in a different color, and while she wondered absently if it was possible, she realized a moment later that it was not the case.

Because, then, she should be falling for someone else, someone that was not Childe, someone which red in his eyes or hair left a deep impression on her. And Lumine, amidst the half-awakened state, could only recall Master Diluc, which, unfortunately, she regarded as a person she respected.

Then again, if she fell for him, there should not be any of these blue petals anymore. But there were blue petals and, as her sight cleared, a blotch of deep red mingled with them, stuck to those petals. Lumine came to the second realization that her finding a new love was not the case either.

Because it was not petal.

It was blood.

And it just came to her, too, that blood was trickling out of her slightly ajar lips. Her mind was still trying to process the new-found piece of information—there wasbloodon thesepetals—to do something, anything, about the dripping blood. Only when Lumine finally tasted the metallic taste in her mouth, then she wiped the trail of blood with her palm. It smeared her fair skin red and felt sticky to her skin.

Lumine had grimaced at its sight, also at the burning sensation and sharp pain in her chest before she gathered the bloodied petals in her hands. She thought it was relieving that the amount of those petals did not increase. However, her stomach churned when she realized that she would cough out blood in addition to those petals starting from today.

In fact, it might become her daily wake-up alarm since it had been four days since she was first awoken by the cough. So, unless she wanted to be choked to death by those damned petals, she had no other way than waking up to a fit of rough cough and coughed out bloodied petals.

Golden eyes stared at those seven petals gathered in her hands disdainfully. If what Zhongli said abouthanahakidisease was true—that there was a flowergrowinginside her—then its root must have entwined itself to her lungs.

Lumine wondered how was it possible that she had not died already?

"Miss?" a voice pulled her back from the trance she was in and to the hustle of her surrounding. Her eyes blinked twice before they focused on the woman standing across her, who sighed, then. "Dear me, you're zoning out."

"I–" she glanced to the flowers of various types right in front of her shoes, then back at the woman. "I'm sorry, ma'am, what was it again?"

The woman threw her a small frown, eyeing her weirdly, then pointed at her hands. "That iris," she stated, "how many did you need?"

Lumine darted her eyes to her hands, which turned out to be holding a red flower. Mind still quite in a daze, she nodded rigidly. "Yes, but, uh, not the red one."

The vendor owner cocked her head to the side, a hand rested on her hips.

"The purple ones," Lumine returned the iris back to its container, "I'll have fifteen– no, twenty, please."

Lumine heard an exasperated sigh from the older woman, but it passed her as the wind as her eyes, once again, were fixed on the red iris. She also heard the sound of rustling newspaper and the sound of people haggling behind her, but she tuned them all out. All she sensed was the sight of the red iris, overlapped with the sight of blood that smeared blue petals in her mind.

I'm still alive.

Of course, she was alive. That idea became a (crude) joke to her, but she could not help it. Then again, she could not bring herself to laugh or scorn at it either. All in all, it was still not a good thing to be reminded of what happened earlier this morning at a public place.

"Here you go, miss," the woman handed her the flowers wrapped in newspaper, "it'll be twelve thousand mora."

Lumine fished out her money, gave it while thanking her briefly, and walked away.

It had been three days since the commemoration of Aether's passing. Still, Lumine could barely chase away the remnants of gloom inside her. It was okay, she supposed, but there was another thing that bothered her, and it was begging to be noticed after she tried to ignore it until now.

Zhongli's words about Aether.

(Lumine wished she never heard any of it.)

All of that, with the addition of what happened earlier this morning, made Lumine's mind more preoccupied rather than clear. She almost wanted to blame the flowers that filled her view left and right for that but decided it would do nothing to her state and that it could not be helped.

Because today was Sunday, and Sunday meant her weekly visit to the flower market located in the western pier of Liyue Harbor. Lumine had gotten herself a fair number of flowers with her now—ranunculus, sweet pea, clematis, rose, and iris—and was about to return when she realized she had forgotten to pack these flowers with a box.

Amidst her muddled mind, instead of taking her to the packing corner, her feet dragged her back to the entrance. And there, she bumped into someone, quite literally, one whom she never expected to find here of all places.

"Careful now," he said, but lips immediately turned into a small smile when he realized it was her who bumped into him. "Ojou-chan? What are you doing here?"

It should be her line; what was Childe doing in theflower market?

"Stocking up," she replied simply.

Childe observed her and the flowers wrapped in newspaper in her hold. "It seems like you need a hand there."

"I'm fine, I can manage," Lumine remarked.

"Even if it rains?" he raised an eyebrow and pointed at the scenery outside the market with a slight tilt of his head.

Her eyes followed after the direction he pointed. Yes, Lumine sighed inwardly; it rained, and quite the pour too. Lumine pressed her lips together. Unlike the other day, she brought her umbrella this time, but it would be hard to use it with her two hands filled with these flowers.

A light chuckle had her look back at the man. His blue eyes were glinting in amusement, and Lumine forced herself not to stare too much at them.

"My offer is still up,ojou-chan," he said again.

"Did you bring your umbrella?"

He smiled brightly at her. "Nope."

Of course.

She would have to share her umbrella with him. Although she knew it could not be helped, Lumine wished he would just buy a cheap one from the general store next to the flower market. But judging from his smile, chances was he would not do that, be it was on purpose, or the idea simply slipped past him.

Lumine refused to acknowledge it, either way, so she should not mull over it too much.

She handed him some of the flowers, only to have them all taken by him, and Childe gave her a small package in return. Lumine gave him a frown, to which he replied her with a laugh.

"Hold that,ojou-chan. Where's your umbrella?"

Lumine reached to her bag and took it out. She unfolded the navy-colored umbrella, but, again, Childe snatched it from her. He stepped out to the rain before she could say anything about it and turned to her.

"Let's go."

Golden eyes blinked slowly, absorbing Childe's casual smile.

Not fair, Childe.

Lumine, for the third time today, could not find it in her to argue with him. She stepped closer to him, minding and maintained the distance between them as they walked back to her shop. Or at least shetriedto.

(It was hard, honestly.)

She ignored the pleasant throb in her chest each time her shoulder bumped against his arm. Butterflies fluttered their wings in her stomach, adding a pleasant feeling to her, but she ignored them too. As they walked without words exchanged between them, all she did right now was focusing her eyes on the wet pavement to avoid puddles or at her wet shoes.

The rain was not a downpour, but it was certainly heavier than just a drizzle. It just came to Lumine that it had been raining a lot in the last three days. Lumine wondered if they had entered a new season or was it just a weather anomaly.

Anomaly…

Lumine stole a glance at Childe, whose eyes focused on the road ahead of them, then back to the tip of her shoes. If she had to think about Childe, then she would say that she found him to be an anomaly in her recent life. Anomaly, because he was the first person she had ever allowed herself to be at ease to some degree. Maybe that was because she held a feeling for him. However, Lumine regretted the way she acted three days ago in front of him. She trusted him, yes, but she could not trust herself to act as if nothing had happened when he could act as casual as ever around her.

Maybenothingreally had happened between them.

Indeed. Lumine realized she was the only one who made a big deal out of it–

Because I like him…

–while Childe looked like he did not put much of his mind into it.

…while he likes Mister Zhongli.

Thus, his comforting words that day should not mean anything to her. Lumine could not even dream of Childe saying it with any other intention, but,Archon, he was too kind to her, and she was shameless. Despite telling herself repeatedly that she should not hold any hope, the stubborn part of her was diving deep into those comforting words and made its home there.

Sometimes, Lumine wondered if she ever learned anything from all of this—the heartache, the hopelessness, the petals.

Maybe not.

(And maybe never will.)

Her hand, the one that held the package, clenched tight on its handle. Lumine bit her inner cheek to held back a snarl she aimed at that voice resided on the back of her head. It kept coming back as if reminding her how she had her life hanging by a thread, and she loathed it.

Maybe I really need to see a doctor for any possible medicine or–

(It's no use, Lumine.)

Shut up.

It sounded as if her fate was already sealed. She knew she liked to turn her illness into a crude joke, but knowing that it wasreal, it left a bad taste in her mouth. Even more so when she remembered Zhongli's words. There was no known medicine to cure this disease as of now. Only surgery was left open, and even that was a risky one with immense side-effects.

Whenever Lumine remembered the side-effect, she thought of Aether and what would happen if she knew earlier about his disease.

Would she force him to undergo that surgery? Or would she respect his choice of choosing to just wither away?

But it was fate, and Lumine should have known that whatever she did, she could not go against fate. No matter how hard she would convince her twin if it was his fate to die because of it, then everything would be futile.

Then again, just because it was his fate, it did not mean Lumine could swallow the fact of his death right away.

It only got harder each day passed.

"It's been raining a lot lately, right?"

Lumine looked up to him swiftly and found him still looking straight at the road. She studied his profile briefly; chiseled jaw, blue eyes peeking amidst his warm-colored tresses, a pointy nose that seemed almost arrogant and domineering. Her eyes lingered there for another second before glanced back to the road. Though, she could not help but wonder; were all Snezhnayan born with a pretty face?

"Yeah," Lumine bit out an answer quickly while trying to slap herself inwardly for having such a thought. "It was a downpour last night too," she added.

He hummed an 'is that so?', and Lumine tilted her head to him. "Weren't you here last night?" Lumine questioned.

"I wasn't, though?" Childe looked at her, still smiling.

"You weren't?"

He stopped and turned to her. Lumine would have noticed how her shoes were dipped in a puddle if not for how he locked his gaze with hers suddenly. A mischievous gleam danced in those blue orbs as if finding her confusion interesting while Lumine suppressed the urge to break their stare. Childe's smile grew into a smirk, then.

"Curious?"

Lumine fought a blush, glanced away quickly, and started walking again. Beside her, she felt his arm brushed against her shoulder again as he followed her.

"Not really," she murmured.

Well, it was a lie, obviously. Luminewascurious, but it might be related to his job, so she let it go. Childe had told her that he would not answer anything related to his job, after all. Lumine should not force it unless she wanted to accidentally push the wrong button.

"Heh," Childe chuckled lightly, nudging her gently with his elbow, "I might tell you if you asked,ojou-chan."

Lumine grimaced at the wet and cold feeling around her feet as she stepped into another puddle. She gave him a side-long glance; he was grinning now.

"Really?" she asked doubtfully.

"Of course!" His grin did not waver.

Her eyes narrowed, studying his vibrant expression shortly before asked, "Where were you?"

"At a famous place somewhere around Dihua Marsh," he replied lightly.

"Wangshu Inn?" Lumine raised an eyebrow at him. "What were you doing there?"

Childe stopped in front of her, closed the umbrella as Lumine stepped under a spot untouched by the rain, and only then Lumine realized that they had arrived at her shop. He turned to her; his grin shifted into a small amused smile.

"That," a pair of blue eyes peered at her, "is a secret."

Lumine sighed and threw him a look as she opened the door of her shop. They both entered, and Lumine breathed in the woody mixed with a hint of floral scent of her shop. On the back of her head, Aether's voice greeted her while her eyes saw the imagery of him standing behind the counter.

"Welcome back, Lumi! Did you get all of the flowers? You didn't forget to use the box, did you?"

A small smile tugged on her lips.

I got the flowers, brother, but I forgot to use the box again.

It was the same as a year ago; Lumine's first time going to the flower market alone, and she had completely forgotten to pack the flowers with a box. It resulted in Lumine walking back to the shop with arms full of flowers, probably getting laughed at by people on the street, and Aether offered her an amused smile when she entered the shop.

That was when his shop was just one month old; they both were a month away from turning twenty, and Lumine was still working part-time at Xiangling's family restaurant. Two months later, however, Lumine stopped working part-time and helped him managing the shop's money and cleaning the area.

Even now, the memory of Aether teaching her how to arrange flowers into a bouquet was still fresh in her mind.

It was a good memory.

A really, really good memory.

Focus, Lumine. You have flowers to take care of.

She pulled herself away from the sudden recollection. Her eyes found the ginger-haired man placing the flowers on the wooden table. Despite her confusion about why Childe was in the flower market, she appreciated his kind gesture to help her even if they had to share the umbrella.

If people saw them, and if they had heard about the rumor spread by Verr Goldet and her mother, then chances were high that they thought the rumor was true.

Well, Lumine could only hope the rumor did not spread that quick.

Lumine slipped off her wet shoes and into another pair behind the counter before she went to grab the flowers, dropping off Childe's package while she was at it. And just as she was about to go to her workstation, a hand stopped her on her shoulder. Lumine turned to Childe and asked him a silent question that got replied with a small frown.

"Breakfast first,ojou-chan," he reminded her.

Lumine shook her head, heaving a sigh. "My stomach can wait, but these flowers can't. They have to be conditioned first so I can store them properly."

Childe's frown stayed, but he lifted his hand from her shoulder. Lumine walked to the station with Childe tailing behind her and put on her apron. She unwrapped the newspaper and plastic wrap from the flowers, put on gloves, then started removing the leaves on the bottom part of the stem.

And as usual, as if staring at her became his hobby, Lumine could feel his lingering gaze on her, full of curiosity and maybe with a hint of interest in it. No questions were asked, so Lumine continued working silently despite the prickling sensation from his stare.

Lumine was at her tenth sweet pea when Childe suddenly asked, "Ojou-chan, what do you mean by 'lacking warmth'?"

Her hand stopped moving after plucking a leaf. She blinked, taking in the soft purple color of the sweet pea before moved her hand to pluck another leaf and placed the flower on the pile of sweet peas on her left. She grabbed them all and cut the end of their stem before walking to the sink and return with a glass container filled with water. Those sweet peas, then, were placed inside.

Iris left.

She lifted her head from the irises to Childe, who sat across her with a stool he had dragged Archon-knew-when. "You can eat first, Childe," she said instead. "I'll eat later after I'm finished with these flowers."

"You didn't answer my question,ojou-chan," she could hear his pout from the tone he used. "If I can help you, then it'll be finished faster."

Lumine plucked the leaves from the iris faster, harder, and she did not know why. Maybe she was frustrated? But to lashing it out at a poor flower was going to earn her an endless scold from Aether in the afterlife. She took a slow, deep breath.

"Brother said flowers are to be treated gently because they are fragile, despite how they could stay alive even after being cut from its root," she explained; her hand did not stop moving. "I guess I just didn't want you to tap more into brother's belongings."

He cocked his head at that and sat straighter. "Your brother's belongings?"

"This shop," her reply came out in a soft murmur. "But I guess it doesn't matter anymore."

Because she thought he would make a smear on Aether's pure, perfectly-white shop. Because she needed to keep this shop the way it was when Aether was still alive. Because she felt that having her as the one who stained Aether's shop was enough.

(Because she was afraid that she would allow Childe to gaze deeper into her if she accepted his help.)

She would be a hypocrite if she called Childe 'lacking warmth' and banned him from touching the flowers – she, too, was lacking warmth. She, too, was cold, detached, and insensible. She, too, was someone who could never become as warm as Aether and would forever felt out of place here in his shop.

But Childe's presence made up to it, somehow, even if it failed to made sense in her head.

Childe scratched his head. "I don't think I follow our conversation,ojou-chan."

"It's okay," she laughed lightly, "it's not important, anyway."

It was no longer important because she had trusted him. But it seemed that Childe was not going to have it.

"You looked cold, detached," she listed off, "that was my first impression on you when you first stood in front of my shop to wait for Mister Zhongli as you smoked."

It was a lie, though. It was not her first impression on him, but a small lie would not hurt, would it?

"You had this sense of exhaustion and deep detachedness that could be seen when you smoked," she continued, phrasing it in a way that, she hoped, did not sound like a creep.

Childe said nothing to it, but she knew he was mulling over it. It could be wrong since that was what her gut feeling told her, but Lumine always had a stronger gut feeling than Aether. And more often than not, what it told her was true.

Lumine opted to continue removing the leaves, eyes focusing on the purple iris in her hand. However, it only reminded her of the red ones she saw in the flower market and the blood she coughed earlier today. Seven petals, Lumine reminded herself, today was also seven petals but with the addition of blood. Would it be eight tomorrow or the day after?

"Say,ojou-chan," Lumine shoved the flashing images of her blood in her head and turned to him. Childe, however, simply gazed at the irises on the table. "If I weren't agoodperson, what would you do?"

She looked at him. Childe was playing with a leaf she had plucked, twirling it between his fingers, and it reminded her of how he played with one of the blue petals last week.

Nothing. I wouldn't do anything.

Lumine knew she was already blinded by her feelings she had for him—she knew for sure she would not do anything unless things come to a drastic turn. Childe would never do anything terrible to her. Not after all she had witnessed in this short amount of time of their interaction.

"Would you do anything bad to me?" she asked.

"And if I say I would?"

"You wouldn't."

Childe looked up to her; a small smile, almost looked like weary, hung on his face. "How can you be so sure,ojou-chan?"

Lumine cut the end of the stem of the last iris and gathered the rest. Childe stood, and she thought he wanted to stop their odd conversation, but he returned with a glass container and his package. Lumine thanked him briefly before placing the irises there.

"I trust you, Childe."

He stopped midway from opening the package to look her way and chuckled. "Ojou-chan, you're too trusting."

"And you're too kind," she returned.

Too much kindness could not be good, especially when she had a feeling for him and viewed him differently than how he viewed her. She did not know what he regarded her as or where he placed her in his circle. Wherever her place was, Lumine doubted she was somewhere within his arm-length radius, while she had him placed so close to her, next to Aether, just in a different sense.

Lumine banished the musing, lifted the two containers filled with irises and sweet peas, and then walked to the storage room to store them in the cooler. The same went with the ranunculus, clematis, and rose, and she put away her apron as she saw Childe had moved to the table with slices of bread laid on the table.

"Coffee?" she asked.

Childe turned to her, nodding. "As usual."

Of course. It had become a usual thing for both of them.

The rain had ceased into a light trickle when Lumine returned with two cups of coffee in her hands, and she saw Childe gazing at it through the window. Lumine was reminded of how she saw him smoking on the entrance door three days ago. His standing figure right now looked exactly the same as the one he had then.

It looked muted and cold.

Or lonely.

Again, as if tracing the movement from that day, Lumine walked to the table and quietly set down the cups. Only when the stool made a scraping sound against the floor, then, Childe turned to her.

However, something stayed in his eyes this time.

"You know,ojou-chan," he said with a voice that sounded weird, like he was forcing himself to be upbeat but failing, "you shouldn't trust someone like me."

Lumine sipped her coffee. The bitterness spread slowly in her mouth, and it brought warmth to her throat, lessening the familiar itch that started to emerge there. "Why not?"

"Because I'm a bad guy," he laughed casually, "and you're a good person."

Her hand lingered around the coffee cup, warm against her skin. "By your standard."

Childe returned to his seat and lifted his cup. Lumine peered at him—that swirl stayed in those eyes.

"Byanyone'sstandard," he corrected. "Us Fatui doesn't have a good reputation here in Liyue. Even more so a Harbinger."

Lumine threw him a frown, which he ignored subtly, concealing it by drinking his coffee. Still, her frown stayed even after that, but Childe looked unbothered in the slightest. It was as if what he stated was the fact that she refused to see, but Lumine knew better than that.

You've been nothing but kind to me.

Enough kindness to made her feel conflicted and indulge in it. Bringing her food, listened to her, and even calmed her during her breakdown—if those were not the act of kindness, then Lumine knew nothing about kindness.

Yet, somehow, she knew it was not the concern, not the exact thing he meant to emphasize. There was an underlying meaning within it, but Lumine realized quickly that it was not to be touched.

A bad guy... no bad guy ever call himself bad, Childe.

Before she could stop it, her hands made their way across the table, over the purple pansies, to rest them on his cheeks, cupping them gently. Amidst her erratic heartbeat, she felt him stiffened under her touch. The straight line of his lips grew firmer as he slowly lifted his gaze from the dark coffee to met her eyes. Andthere, within them, the swirl of emotion in his ocean eyes was dancing.

It brought uneasiness to her—Lumine had never seen him act like this before. Even if the number of their engagements could be counted with fingers, she knew he was somewhat odd today.

"Are you sick, Childe?" she asked in a murmur.

Childe closed his eyes, leaning slightly into her hands, and breathed a small sigh. "Maybe."

And Lumine knew precisely what he meant by that.

"Me too," she smiled wearily, "I think I'm also sick."

Of her senseless musing, her growing feelings, herhanahaki, herself, everything. Sometimes, she wondered if it would end if she disappeared.

If so, then I want to…

Her hands stayed there for the longest time possible, savoring the sense of tranquility that present between them before she pulled away. But Childe caught one with his hand, and Lumine's heart skipped a beat. Erratic heartbeat grew louder, and she sat rigidly, trying to maintain her composure. His eyes opened to watch her fingers before shifted to her.

The swirl ceased, Lumine noticed, but something else perched there, something of a subtle emotion that she could not place her fingers on.

"Don't trust me too much,ojou-chan," Childe spoke in a low, small voice. He brought her hand closer to him and bumped his forehead to it. "And don't fall for someone like me."

Golden eyes widened by a fraction.

But I have, Childe. Hopelessly too.

Lumine pressed her lips, trying to contain those words from slipping out. What once a noisy heartbeat, drumming loudly in her ears, now had become a noiseless beat. Everything was silent now; even she could barely register the rain sound. All went still within her the moment he bumped his head to her hand, the moment he said those words.

And what about your feelings?

Telling people not to fall for him while he kept on wanting someone himself–

How arrogant.

What happened after that until Childe left for his work barely sunk in her head. As Lumine cleaned the workstation, brushing away the remnants of leaves and cropped stem, she once again found herself wondering if he knew about her feelings. Though it should be impossible since she barely ever showed it.

Then why telling her?

But more than that, it felt like he was trying to convince himself for reasons unknown to her.

Lumine eyed the finished bouquet of irises and cecilias in her hold. Later this day, her customer would come and take it, maybe somewhere around the late afternoon. With the bouquet finished and the station cleaned, Lumine was left with nothing to do.

Or not.

She eyed a blue book rested on the shelf behind the counter after placing the finished bouquet there. It had been there since two days ago, sitting and collecting dust for not being touched after being tucked for two months in the back of her drawer. Lumine had been hesitating to open it, to read it, because there might be something that she wished she would never know instead.

But Aether gave it to her, and not without any reason. Even if he gave it to her without saying anything, he must have wanted her to read it.

His diary.

Lumine glanced to the clock—there was still some time before her break, but it did not seem like anyone would come. She took the book and went to the table to sit there. With a deep inhale, her fingers gingerly flipped open the book. What greeted her first was the small, messy handwriting of the year, and it threw Lumine back to the days spent in the orphanage with him.

She flipped the page and read the first entry.

Today, another couple came here wanting to adopt me. But they were not going to take Lumi with them, so I refused them. I'm not going to leave here if not with my sister. I don't want to live in a house where Lumi isn't there. Lumi is my little sister, and as her big brother, I will always be with her to protect her.

A small laugh escaped her. Lumine remembered how it used to make her cry at night whenever a married couple came to their orphanage and planned to adopt only one of them. Most came for Aether, but once or twice, it was her. Yet, not even a couple ever agreed on adopting both of them.

They were nine when Aether wrote this, judging by the date written. The next several entries were also about how he rejected the adoption offer for the same reason until it changed year.

A teacher came to teach Lumi and me this morning. I thought everyone would be taught by her, but it turned out we were the only ones she taught. When I visited the Director's office to ask about it, I bumped into a beautiful lady who gave me candies. Her smile is so pretty, and I think Lumi will become as beautiful as that lady in the future. I gave Lumi the sweets, and she likes them. Maybe I should visit the Director's office often if I want to meet the beautiful lady again.

That was the first entry of the new year. Lumine remembered clearly how she was suddenly called by one of the older sisters (Madam Director said everyone was family here, so they should address each other like one), and was brought to a room where Aether and a woman with long blue hair and a gentle smile were present. It looked as if they were waiting for her and Lumine quickly took a seat next to Aether, who held her hand in reassurance.

Miss Ganyu was what they called her, and they were taught and absorbed many things from her.

Lumine still thought it was rather weird, for they were the only ones who got properly educated while other children were not. But the idea of how it might enhance the possibility of being adopted defeated her tendency of thinking too much. It became quite a disappointment, even until now, that not even one adoption offer came to any of them ever since.

The next entry was months apart from the last one, they were already eleven, and there, Lumine learned a new name.

Lady Guizhong told me she was the reason why we haven't been receiving any adoption offer lately. She told me it's a secret between the two of us and that I can't tell Lumi about this, but she and a friend of hers are our benefactors. I don't really understand, but I guess it's okay. Lady Guizhong promised me that Lumi and I won't ever be separated. So, as long as Lumi and I are together, we'll be alright no matter where we are. Lady Guizhong also gave me a bamboo shoot soup today, and I ate it with Lumi. She likes it better than the candies.

She had to reread the name again to make sure she read it correctly.

Lady Guizhong.

Lumine had never heard anything from Aether about that name. But, as written by him there, it was supposed to be a secret between him and this Lady Guizhong. Her eyes narrowed at that; the hand that gripped the book trembled a little.

Of course, there would be more secrets kept from her than just hishanahaki.

But this one, Lumine thought that it could not be helped because it was Lady Guizhong herself who made him promise it, whoever she was, and Aether kept it until he died. Lumine did not know if she should feel proud because he kept his promise or sad. She was being left in the dark, after all. It was not a good feeling.

Lumine flipped the next page. However, instead of Aether's writing, she came to see envelopes instead. She lifted those, three of them, and flipped to see if there were any receiver details. Golden eyes widened, and lips cracked open when she read the receiver's address.

It was her address back when she stayed in Mondstadt.

Her throat went dry all of a sudden. She could feel how her stomach churned, how she gasped for air as Lumine held her breath upon reading the address.

These letters were for her.

One trembling hand ripped one of the envelopes open. Lumine ignored how she should have used a scissor or cutter instead because she might tear the letter inside if she was not careful. She pulled out the paper inside; her heart raced again, thumping loudly in her ears as she tried her best to focus on the letter.

Dearest sister, Lumi,

She bit her lips, her sight started to blur from the sudden emerging of tears, but she held it in. Not now. She needed to read it first.

Dearest sister, Lumi,

How are you doing? It has been three months since you left Liyue Harbor, and I'm starting to miss your nagging. Don't worry too much, okay? Your big brother is healthy and managing the shop well and, in fact, I just received another regular two weeks ago! I didn't know who he is, but he came twice a week. I guess he's pretty famous since everyone seems to know him when I asked about him. Yesterday, I talked to him, and he sounded… old, but not in any bad way. It's like talking to a wise man, but he's knowledgeable about herbs and flowers, so we ended up talking a lot. His name is Zhongli, and he always bought glaze lilies.

I hope you're doing well, Lumi. Don't push yourself too hard, take care of yourself, and enjoy your stay in Mondstadt. It doesn't matter if you failed to find any clue about our parents. Just make sure to return here safely, okay? The grandpa from the general store has been asking for you lately. I think he missed you too since you're the only one he enjoys talking with.

I gotta go and open my shop now. Please tell me if something happens, okay?

Your bestest brother in the world,

Aether

Ps. I think I like him, Lumi.

Her wide eyes focused on the last sentence.

Archon…

Lumine felt her stomach sunk. She could barely blink through that last line, could barely let herself breathed out the air she had held since the beginning, as she sat there stiffly while staring at the paper in her hand. Words failed her. It died in her tip of the tongue, but they screamed loudly in her head.

Aether was in love with Zhongli.

What he said was true…

Because Lumine had been in denial over it, over his apology, over the fact that it was possible that Zhongli really caused Aether'shanahaki, over the fact that she hated the man for all of this. Ivy crawled under her skin as the ugly feelings became more apparent in her. She should not feel this way, especially when she knew it was done unintentionally and blaming him was wrong. Just like Childe, who knew nothing about her illness, and thus she could not blame him for it.

Maybe Lumine just wanted to blame him because she did not know who or what to blame for Aether's death except herself.

Her lips trembled, a tear fell to the unsent letter, smudging Aether's neat handwriting, and Lumine breathed deeply to calm herself. She still had two more letters to open, two more letters to read, and an entire lunch break in half an hour that she would probably skip to wept over those letters.

Into the second envelope, her as the receiver, but it was not sealed, unlike the first one.

Dearest sister, Lumi,

I've received the flowers you sent to me yesterday. Thank you for the cecilias, Lumi. I heard they only grow somewhere high, windy, and quiet? It's quite similar to qingxins, don't you think? It must be lonely to grow up there alone They must be savoring the wind so much, that's why they are so beautiful. Madam Ping especially loves them if paired together with the glaze lilies, and Mister Zhongli sometimes bought a bouquet of it when the glaze lilies aren't in stock yet.

Speaking of Mister Zhongli, I don't think I've met someone like I think he's quite he's a preserved man who likes tea more than wine. He owned a teahouse, and he often invited me there for tea he brewed himself. It feels like a date His teas are delicious, and I love his osmanthus tea. Lumi, once you return, let's go there together! I'll introduce you to him! Then

And the letter ended there. Lumine quickly moved to the last letter and found the envelope, just like the second one, unsealed. The paper, however, was slightly crumpled, and the envelope lacked the detail of its receiver this time.

Dearest Lumine,

It has been four months since you left for Mondstadt. Isn't it about time to retu I miss you, Lumi, I really do. I'm sorry for asking about our parents It's lonely withou Can you return here? To tell you the truth, I've been feeling weird lately. One week ago, I told I confessed to Mister Zhongli, but I was rejected. But I'm fine. I've expected it. It hurts, but it's nothing I can't handle. Everything was fine, but then I started to cough petals but something weird happened to me. Petals I think I'm sick. It's a weird disease, like a folklore Do you know a folklore Lumi, do you know about hanahaki story I have a cough, but it feels different than the usual cough. It pains me each cough petals came out Lumi, please come

I'm scared, Lumi.

The rest was a blur in her eyes. The crumpled paper was shaking in her hands like a leaf hit by the wind as Lumine tried and failed to bit back a whimper. Big droplets of water fell from her eyes. They landed on that paper, further smudging Aether's smudged handwriting. It pained her when she realized how he had been crying while writing this letter.

And it pained her even further at the fact that Aether had been trying to tell her about his illness but refrained himself from doing so. All because he knew she longed for the freedom Liyue Harbor failed to fulfill with the guise of searching for their parents. Why did she have to be so selfish when she already had Aether beside her?

Selfish… you're so selfish and arrogant, Lumine. And look what it costs you.

She knew – she understood that there was no use in crying over the spilled milk. Crying would not bring Aether back to her or erase her ownhanahaki, but these tears did not listen to her command. Lumine had her fair share of tears already on Aether's death commemoration day, and she thought that bottle that kept her tears was already emptied that day. However, it felt like she produced tears faster than she thought, for it to fall relentlessly like the rain outside.

Brother… I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…

All this time, Lumine only thought of how selfish he was for leaving her and his shop alone, but not once she ever thought of how hard it must have been for him. Lumine curled on her seat, drawing herself in as close as possible to stifle the unbearable ache her heart was feeling. She ignored the ivy that once again crept under her skin.

The familiar itch in her throat returned, but Lumine let it itch as it was nothing compared to the weight of guilt that dawned upon her now.

The sound of a familiar jingle got Lumine flinching. Her hand quickly wiped away the tears, lips forced a tug of a smile, and eyes looked up to greet her customer, who she expected the be the one who ordered the iris and cecilia bouquet she made just now. But all expectation was lost because standing at the entrance door was Zhongli, who looked just as surprised as she was.

It was Childe this morning, and now it was Zhongli. Lumine would have greeted him like she usually did if not for how messy her feelings right now toward him.

What do you mean, Lumine? Go greet him! It's still within the business hour!

Her mind was yelling at her to move those lips and say something instead of gawking at him. And so she did.

"Mister Zhongli," she croaked out, voice trembling so bad, and her lips quivered. But Lumine held on. "Welcome."

Even those three words felt so heavy as if a big boulder were dumped on her shoulders. Lumine scrambled to tidy up the letters scattered on the tables and slipped them and their envelopes into Aether's diary quickly. Yet, it did not slip past the man's gaze.

Zhongli did not make any step from the spot he stood. His face was unusually somber, with amber eyes narrowing and lips forming a firm straight line across his face. Something was different from him, and Lumine had a feeling that his visit this time was not accompanied by the intention of buying a bouquet.

"Miss Lumine," his deep voice resounded in the quiet space, making her stopped dead in her track to the counter. She looked at him, mustering every ounce of hers to look neutral. By the knit of eyebrow Zhongli made, she must have done it poorly. "May I have some of your time to talk with you?"

"Not now," her reply came quick.

"Of course," Zhongli nodded subtly in response. "Would you be free tomorrow then?"

Her eyes glanced to the calendar. Tomorrow was Monday; it would be her day off. Lumine did not like how her stomach churned at the word 'talk' from him, but she supposed it was okay—Lumine also had few things she would like to ask him. Another talk would not hurt, would it?

"Tomorrow is my day off, Mister Zhongli," she stated; her voice was a lot calmer this time. "Where would you like to talk?"

"Please come to my teahouse whenever you can, at your leisure, Miss Lumine," was his reply. It left Lumine wondering why he would reply to her with such freedom to choose the time herself.

"Ten," Lumine looked at him, "I'll be there at ten in the morning, Mister Zhongli."

That earned her another subtle nod from him. "Of course. Thank you, Miss Lumine."

And he left.

And Lumine sunk to her trembling knees, tears falling once again to her cheek.

The blue book in her tight grasp was never felt more reassuring than ever.

Notes:

hello! i was planning to make it not too angsty this time, but maybe it's a fail..? we're already at chapter 6 so! quick question! i'm really curious which chapter is the angstiest one according to you. as for me, it's chapter 3 anyway, thank you for reading! as usual, constructive criticisms are welcome and kudos and comments makes my day! i love reading your comments ()
i'll see you in the next update!

Chapter 7: hydrangea

Notes:

tw: implied self-harm, somewhat heavy theme

(See the end of the chapter formore notes.)

Chapter Text

It was drizzling lightly when she made her way to the teahouse.

The damp air clung to Lumine's skin as she trudged on the empty street while avoiding puddles that slowly formed in every five steps she made. The sky was grey, and although it was not as gloomy as it was when she visited Aether's grave, it foretold her the high chance of having this gloomy weather last all day.

Another day, another rainy day, another gloomy day.

Lumine took her time treading the usually busy street—of people walking to and from the Feiyun Slope, children running around with their kite, and stray but tame dogs throwing smiles and gentle barks. She made a sharp turn to the road with even fewer people and fell into sequences of a familiar route.

The rain washed away hushed chatters of a group dressed in black and flowers laid on the wet ground. Minutes passed and Lumine realized a beat too late where her feet had dragged her body to. Her eyes were stinging from the lack of blink as she stared past the rustic gate of the public cemetery of Liyue Harbor.

A stray question arose in her head; why she came here instead of the promised meeting place, yet only a pregnant silence answered her. Sharp sobs broke somewhere from that group within the cemetery ground, and Lumine pushed open the gate—rattling loudly against the cobblestone road, and perhaps startling the mourning lot. A hand that pushed it open was smeared with rust and dirty rainwater.

Unlike that day, today Lumine barely had anything occupying her head. She glanced and nodded politely at the group who, in return, nodded back at her, before her legs made long strides across the solemn ground. Needless to say that, subconsciously, she was trying to find her brother first for reasons unknown.

(For reassurance maybe?)

Today she offered nothing but her lonely presence to Aether. No flowers, no words, and definitely no smiles. Standing in front of his silent grave was the best thing she could do unless she wanted to bawl her eyes out which was not a wise choice for her part.

Because surely, Lumine wanted to have, at least, dignity with her—because courage had failed her—when she faced Zhongli later.

The navy-colored umbrella in her grip swayed as she heard thunder cracking somewhere far in the sky. Immediately, Lumine was reminded of a piano piece she used to listen to together with Aether from a cheap recorder whenever it rained—Gymno-something number one. She found herself humming to that piece and maybe it became her offering for him today because his tombstone looked lonely amidst the other dreary-looking tombstones.

Watching at his silent grave made her remember how he almost died alone without no one knowing, without anyone beside him, without anyone listening to his last few words. So, the act of visiting his grave became something more like to make up for her six-month absence in his last few months of living than her wanting to meet him.

Or at least that was how Lumine convinced herself so she would not be buried in the melancholy of missing her dead brother.

(Or be buried in an endless cycle of regretting and blaming herself. Honestly, she has had enough of those already.)

But she did not deny that her visit today, by accident or not, planned or not, was to pick up some sort of composure. Lumine did not know if she had it in her, but she knew Aether had it, and whether she could pick it up by only gazing at his cold tombstone, it did not matter. She just did not want to march into her meeting with a mist-shrouded head—something that she knew her mind would turn into once she faced Zhongli.

Lumine was pretty much empty-headed now, but it might change later, and as much as she wanted to stay empty-headed, she would have to use her head to maintain a proper conversation,discussionwith Zhongli.

Moss-green knee-length skirt fluttered when she turned away from his grave and out of the cemetery ground. The mourning group was still there when she walked past the gate, and Lumine remembered how she used to stay for another hour or two after Aether's funeral came to a finish. And surely, definitely, if it was not for how cold it was back then, Lumine would have stayed in front of Aether's freshly erected tombstone, free of moss and dirt, to read his name and the epitaph engraved there over and over for more hours.

After all, the death of the dearly beloved ones was never an easy thing for anyone, so Lumine understood how that group must be feeling right now.

(The overwhelming sadness and the sense of having your body slowly sinking in the quicksand as if losing your grip on reality were great deals amongst other things.)

Bright eyes scanned the vacant road ahead that led her to the promised meeting place. The way murky water splashed against her legs when she carelessly stepped on a puddle pulled her out of the sudden crash of a reverie. Lumine had yet to arrive on the teahouse and now her mind had already acting up, much to her dismay.

A cold wind grazed against her sides, whipping up the longer section of her hair and obstructed Lumine of her clear view. Some ended up stuck on her face, across her nose, and it kept getting stuck there whenever wind passed her by, so she gave up tidying it. Furthermore, if she was talking about being stuck, Lumine only realized just now how her empty head from earlier was caused by how her mind was still stuck in yesterday; waist-deep in the recollection of what she had read in Aether's diary.

And they were still stuck—her hair, her mind—when Lumine arrived on Zhongli's teahouse. Ten in the morning; it should be around that time now because of the detour she made. The sign hung on the door showed her that it was not open for business. Not yet, or maybe not at all.

They had something to talk about, things to discuss thoroughly as her gut feeling told her. Unlike how it was four days ago, Lumine doubted that their talk would only last for few minutes.

Still, meeting Zhongli after everything she read and found out yesterday was proven to be prickly. Her hand made no move to ring the dull-colored bell—perhaps it used to be polished clean and shining golden—hanging next to the door, while the other hand that gripped the handle of the umbrella turned white. Molten gold of her eyes stared numbly at the sign, at the door, and she secretly wished that somehow Zhongli had forgotten about their promise.

Though it was all in vain because as her hand hovered somewhere near the bell, the door was pulled open to reveal the man who dressed sharply as though he was planning to go out.

Two pairs of eyes collided and Lumine was left without any other choice but to chase away the impromptu urge of fleeing. The rain hit her umbrella harder and Zhongli stepped to the side silently to give her space to enter the building, all without breaking their eye contact. Somehow his gesture sealed her movement. No fleeing.

Lumine felt bad for the lack of greeting from or to her, so she tried to smile at him through all the noisy buzz in her head. Although when Lumine smiled, it seemed as though it was a poor imitation of a smiling dragon kite she once saw flying high in the sky by the children around the neighborhood.

Zhongli had returned that smile with his own subdued smile—somewhat frigid and somber and not reaching his amber eyes—but Lumine supposed that it was fair. She did not give him the best of her smile either so why would he, right?

Maybe she was not supposed to smile at him in the first place, even for the sake of politeness. There was barely elation within her, more of loathsome and staggering affliction, and smiling just counteracted it all.

In any case, the dark-colored umbrella had been pulled close and Lumine was already one foot irreversibly into the promised meeting place without her realizing. Fear was something she did not expect to have here. However, the way her mind's eye saw herself running through the same door with oxygen barely filling her lungs was enough to incite such a feeling.

Aether's composure was nowhere to be found in her.

The folded umbrella was now leaning against the wall together with a black umbrella that was also dripping with rainwater. Lumine wondered if he went out before she arrived there, but quickly dismissing it as it was none of her business. The door was shut behind her with the tiniest noise and she watched Zhongli walked in front of her, with her trailing four steps behind.

(It was a good distance between them, Lumine decided.)

The tranquility of the space brought her more unease rather than its intended quietude effect. The gentle scent of tea mixed with expensive sandalwood scent filled her. The way smoke swirled lazily from a burnt incense stick tugged Lumine into a brief flashback of a familiar smoke from a different object—a cigarette, stuck in-between long fingers and slack jaw of a lonely figure against the doorframe.

Lumine realized belatedly how she had overused the word 'lonely' and 'stuck' today, and it was only ten in the morning.

How easy it was for her memories of her first meeting with Zhongli to recur irked her as she walked deeper into the heart of the teahouse, following the scholar's nonexistent footfall against the perfectly polished wooden floor. Perhaps Zhongli noticed her unease because he turned to her, then.

"Please have a seat anywhere you find comfortable, Miss Lumine."

The timbre of his voice traced back to another recollection within Lumine. Signature tone resounding and bouncing in the still space like a rubber ball when he spoke and everything melted in her world.

He said the exact same thing to her when she first came visiting. And words almost died in her throat, swallowed by the sudden itch poking her chest, but she forced herself to form an answer even if it sounded like a meek request in the end.

"Can we," Lumine refused to glance at the spot with a round table next to an open window where she used to sit days ago, "talk outside?"

She knew Zhongli followed the direction of her gaze that fell on the small pavilion at the corner of the garden, past the even-numbered dark stepping stones surrounded by countless, contrasting small white pebbles. Maybe it was so presumptuous of her, but closed space did not sit well with her lately.

But Zhongli simply nodded without questioning it—although his slightly ajar lips pronounced the opposite—and Lumine dragged her heavy feet across the small garden, stepping carefully on the dark stones. Eyes drank in the sight of swaying glaze lilies and moved upward to skim against jagged ridges of old earthen green tiles where rainwater trickled down like waterfalls.

Falling to her shoulder, laced with a white button-up blouse, was a drop of rainwater that once landed on her hair when she made her way there. A moment passed and bright but cloudy eyes reflected the figure of a man older than her carrying a tray of a tea set in one hand while the other holding a red oil-paper umbrella. A painting of flowers adorned its top side.

Lumine had made her seat on the wooden chair with intricate carvings, with its protective layer of translucent paint worn out due to either age or weather or both. As Zhongli stepped into her line of sight, she dared herself to look up from her interlaced fingers on her laps to him and found his equally blank stare gazing at her. Intangible and muted—those two words perfectly described the man sitting across her.

No words exchanged. The noisy trickle of rain dimmed as golden liquid being poured into a cup, but Lumine knew even tea could not coax her into saying anything to him. Politeness was something of a foreign concept to her today.

And, again, it was osmanthus tea; gleaming golden in the cup, swirling around following the movement of her wrist, exuding sweet scent amidst the petrichor, Aether's favorite. And, again, she drank it slowly, quietly, but ease did not come. Lumine gripped the teacup tight, hot against her palm, but not enough to fight off the sudden deafening ring in her ears.

Then it came to an abrupt silence.

"I am perfectly conscious of the way you regard me, and I realize that forgiveness is not something that I can earn easily from you," Zhongli said, breaking the stagnant heavy silence shrouding them while a newfound urge of fleeing dawned on her. "However, there is nothing more for me to offer than an apology."

Lumine stilled while the world spun rapidly around her and she almost blanched. It would be good if it made her realize that the world still spun because, certainly, Lumine was stuck in the past where it displayed Aether's death scene in an endless repetition. And that brought her to the present time—of talking with Zhongli for reasons only Archon knew why.

Lips shut tight, eyes barely lifting from the dancing liquid gold in the cup; Lumine grasped the cup tighter. An acute sting from the heat against her skin was enough to make her mind racing—Zhongli's apology was genuine, Zhongli's intention to this meeting was good, Zhongli's gentle tone was rich in consideration.

But Lumine realized how she was not ready for this despite everything, so she steeled herself and muttered the best reply she could muster.

(And it was the best and the worst lie she could make.)

"It's okay."

"I was under the impression that you know about it, but–"

"Mister Zhongli," Lumine interrupted, ignoring the spike in her voice when his name rolled out of her tongue and the flat tone splattered with her next two words, "it's okay."

It was not.

In all honesty, nothing was ever okay. Nothing was ever alright since Lumine was slapped with his words and nothing was ever perfectly fine with her since then. There was a night where she woke up with tears instead of blue petals, a day where the sharp blade of Aether's cutter grazed her skin thrice a day, a time frozen between the day and dusk where she just stared at the blue book in her dimly lit room without flipping it open.

But as her mind was muddled with both nothing and everything, Lumine managed to convince herself that it was okay; everything was alright and fine, the remedy to herhanahakiwas a lost cause and even that was fine.

Lumine knew he was giving her a look of disbelief even without her looking at him. She knew he knew how she just wanted to gloss over it. Zhongli was a sharp person, to which he could guess correctly about her illness and that his miscalculation was only where he thought that apologizing and presenting the truth about Aether at the same time was a good idea.

There was an acute pain within her, a phantom pain that quickly spread across her chest. Her mind was still racing. A set of imaginary cogwheels whirring and grinding against each other when words from Aether's unsent letters—I think I like him, Lumi—flashed in her mind.

And then it all jerked to a stop.

"Miss Lumine, how many petals did you cough today?"

The hand that rested on her laps grasped the skirt tight to kept the dull throbs in her from showing. Such a simple yet straightforward question and it left her not much room to reply but to either lie or be honest. Lumine barely lifted her eyes from the dancing liquid in the cup and she grasped the cup tighter.

"Eight."

She heard his baritone voice hummed. "Is there any blood with it?"

"No," but she winced and it was a lie and Lumine knew Zhongli noticed it. "Yes, there's blood. Red against the blue."

Her head tilted upward, finally breaking away from the gaze she gave to the reflection of a part of her face on the tea, and eyes locked with Zhongli's silent yet somewhat probing stare. It was unnerving.

"How long has it been?"

Amber eyes reminded her of amber petals and blooming flowers. They were filling the basket, overflowing, fleeting, slipped through gaps of her fingers to the dancing flame and became dust. Amber eyes rekindled memories long lost, forgotten with gasps of desperation, resentment, and the incessant cycle of regret and guilt.

"Five weeks," Lumine breathed out a puff of hot air she did not aware she had been holding, "almost six, or maybe seven."

It was six weeks. The blue dots made with a 0.7 marker on her calendar marked the daily damnation of her guilt and regret. The basket kept in the counter drawer only needed a fourth of its height worth of blue petals to be filled to the brim. Lumine coughed eight bloodied petals as of today and she knew she was nearing her end while Childe stood against the doorframe with his cigarette between parched lips—he stayed behind the line and did not even face her way.

That someday she longed to happen became a far-off dream, and now death sounded as sweet as a lull of the sea. At this stage, Lumine knew she was losing the race against time that she foolishly, arrogantly started.

But, well…

"Miss Lumine," Zhongli's solemn voice was almost drowned by the crack of thunder somewhere high and far in the sky, "It is within my capability to arrange a surgery to remove the flower."

Could it be called a race, though–

Surgery…

"Therefore, may I suggest you considering it?"

–when she already knew the result?

Golden eyes gleamed. The dull throb became a full-on pain.

"No."

Her voice cradled distant memory of Aether's last flicker of life within his golden orbs, amber flower unblemished by scarlet blood, and the numerous time ocean eyes staring at her wordlessly but gently. Lumine offered him a fleeting smile she knew she could never muster ever again.

And she fought the impulse of landing a slap across his face.

"What of it?" Lumine asked, chewing her trembling lips, a bad habit. A crease appeared between his eyebrows, and Lumine could care less whether it meant disapproval or something else. Her chest constricted uncomfortably, probably from the ivy. "Why does it matter to you, Mister Zhongli, when you didn't care at all to brother's, Aether'shanahaki."

"Miss Lu–"

"You stopped visiting him after he confessed his feelings to you. You avoided him for days, for weeks, when you, of all people, know abouthanahakithe most and you knowminewith just yourlucky guess."

Lumine berated the first half from what Aether wrote in his diary; one of the most recent entries amongst the notes of his meager research about his illness, abouthanahaki. The cogwheels were turning again; faster, quicker, clashing at each other violently, and heat flared within her.

It was no longer okay.

"Isn't he adearfriend of yours? Or did he only become one once he died so you'll have a reason to visit his shop to buy the same stupid flower bouquet over and over when you can just pick one from your garden? Sir," a scoff, not ever sounded gentle, went past her dry lips, "what is it that you want from him? Why– Why did you enter brother's life only to just ruin it? Did you know you're going to ruin mine too while you're at it?"

In a way, he did it already, splendidly, grandiosely, when he was no one but a stranger in her life. Not only Aether, Lumine yelled at herself, but Childe too—he took everyone she loved from her. And as much as she knew she was making a lot of nonsense by blaming him for things out of his control, she could not stop herself from putting every piece of her jagged heart against him and condemn him for everything.

Because blaming someone was the only way so she could not hurt more, so she could alleviate the heaviness within her chest, so she could breathe amidst all the bloodied petals and guilt and regret resided deep in her.

Lumine just wanted to protect herself.

"And you're askingmeto do the surgery." A laugh escaped her, but those lips quivered. Shudder ran through her rigid body like ivy crawling around her. "How dare you."

Scraping noise pierced the contorted air and the world spun once again as she stood brusquely. Lights danced in her sight and Lumine realized how she had forgotten to take her blood medicine this morning. But feet already stepped away from the table, ignoring the clattering teacup knocked by things past her peripheral vision and hair dampened by icy rain when a hand grabbed a hold on her upper arm and she recoiled.

"Don't touch me!"

Especially there, just a few centimeters above her elbow, because it pained her physically as much as she dreaded him knowing things he should not have known. Yet scarlet burst there, seeping through her white blouse, and there was a reason why she had been wearing long-sleeved clothes lately.

She should not have worn white today.

Zhongli stared numbly at her, at the redness that bloomed at the most unexpected place, at her twisted facial expression full of muted anger and disdain and shame.

"Lumine…"

"Don't–"

"Please, excuse me," he muttered and proceeded to pull her away from the rain, unbuttoned the sleeve, and pulled it up until angry, uneven,bloodieddiagonal lines came to his sight, marking fresh wounds. Lumine threw away her face, jaw shut tight and teeth grinding against each other and felt humiliation tumbling down to her at a rapid speed.

Her chest was rising and falling quickly, methodically, rhythmically, but it felt like the air was never reaching her lungs. There was a bad concoction of panic and anger, shame and regret within her, a sense of ivy crawling around her chest once again, and the itchy nudge against the base of her throat. Then, a sigh.

Lumine did not know whether that sigh came from him or her.

"We need to have these treated first," Zhongli murmured, breaking the temporary stillness, and led her back to her chair. Shaky eyes watched him strode away from the pavilion with his oil-paper umbrella to return with a box of medicine.

The sight reminded her of an old poem where a man walked through a rainy lane under his oil-paper umbrella and hoping to stumble upon a girl whose scent and color of lilac, whose thought was in distraught. Zhongli could be that man, and she could be that girl, except that Lumine had nothing in resemblance to lilac with her nor did they meet under romantic circumstances.

The distraught part, however, oddly matched her well, and so did his wish to meet her.

A chair pulled and he sat in front of her. Box of medicine pushed open, and long, callous-free fingers stretched open cloudy cotton dabbed in alcohol to press it gently against her wounds.

Stinging pain shot through her, but physical pain was always better than mental pain, and the burns and prickles in her chest were far worse than this. Her lips pressed into a grim line and her eyes narrowed at the sight of her blood on the cotton. Before long, a roll of fresh bandage was wrapped around her along with another folded one imbued with medicine.

Whatever chaos her mind once shifted into, it now had dissipated into a hot vapor of a shallow sigh. Exhaustion seemed to be taking a hold of her, and it was not because of the forgotten pills.

Lumine grimaced silently at the disgusting taste of bile rising at the back of her throat.

"I–" she began, but words of gratitude got caught somewhere in her itchy throat and died. "I deserve an explanation," she said instead.

And Zhongli's level gaze, no longer probing, gently swept over her dressed wound to her pale face. He failed to meet her gaze, however, because she kept it focused on the tea spilled across the table coming from Zhongli's knocked-over teacup.

"Of course," he affirmed, voice heavy and ringing dully in her ears.

"There was a time where I promised someone to take care of a pair of siblings," Zhongli said after he closed the medicine box, amber eyes kept their gaze lingering at her, and immediately, she knew it was Aether and her that he was talking about.

"It is a promise of a lifetime, but I am afraid I have come to breaking that promise, for one of the pair has passed away before I do. Yet two months ago, I made another promise with one of those siblings to take care of the other for time unspecified. Thus, I took the liberty of turning it as yet another promise of a lifetime."

He slid an envelope on the table. The cursive handwriting of the receiver's name on it was too familiar for her eyes to see. "I assure you; this is but an excuse. I considered giving him space for his own after my refusal to return his… romantic affection, for I see him strictly as a younger sibling figure. A family, more than anything."

A cold hand traced down the white envelope free of blemish as if it had been stored somewhere safe, somewhere far from reach. But there were traces of it being touched open and read numerous times—the creases near its fold, the smudged lines, the worn-out paper.

And someone had cried over this letter. It could be Aether when he wrote it or it could be Zhongli when he read it. It could be either of them, and Lumine refused to add more of the blurred words so she held back the sharp burn behind her eyes.

She read it quietly, eyes absorbing every curve of the letters and heartfelt, distinguished words written with eloquence she never knew Aether possessed. It was clear from this that Aether hid his illness from Zhongli by avoiding him too. That this letter arrived few days after his funeral so the man should not be able to attend it just as he wished. That he asked Zhongli to take care of her, Lumine, for more years to come.

A single letter explained to her everything she needed to know, smooth out the intangible mess of her mind, and tied up loose ends. It all made sense to her, understandably so, but still, it could not fully erase the pang inside her.

Minutes had long gone since she finished reading the letter. Perhaps time got caught or lost somewhere in the gap between her deep confusion and drastic realization, or somewhere between the gentle trickle of rain and the soft hum of her own. Lumine sucked in the sense of grasping reality and the transient acceptance of every change it brought arduously. The only thing that had been stagnant was the weather.

"You didn't know," she breathed out the words that had been left waiting at the base of her tongue. "That's why he died. That's why you apologized."

Because Zhongli would force him into taking the surgery too if he knew. Because Lumine had just realized that there was more to his apology than just him causing Aether'shanahaki. Because, maybe, his remorse was far exceeding hers and he could not give his apology to Aether and thus directed it at her.

Still, the bitterness within her barely faded.

"If I may so bluntly add," Zhongli said as he turned over the cup and filled it with golden tea, spilled tea had gone without her realizing, "the regret I carried upon my failure to keep that promise has brought me—and dragged you—into this event. Perhaps, I just want to be forgiven for this failure. Yet I, too, am able to comprehend the degree of your resentment toward me."

Lumine lifted her eyes and met Zhongli's solemn gaze. "Thus, I shall not force more apologies, lest it will lose its meaning if spoken too many times," he finished.

Breaking a promise was something Lumine could not imagine Zhongli would do. Despite knowing next to nothing about him, she knew, for unknown reasons, that he carried a deep sense of uprightness and responsibility as if they were his religion. It only occurred to her now that beneath the serene presence of his lie deep penitence from a broken promise.

And he just wanted to be forgiven—by her, by Aether, or maybe by that person he spoke of—more than anything.

"Mister Zhongli, I–" she forced out words to spill from her stiff tongue, "I can't forgive you yet, and I would be lying if I say that I could anytime soon. But I don't hate you. I don't want to, and maybe I can't hate you."

Because what was the use of hatred against someone when you were within arm-reach from death?

"Aether… I'm sure that brother doesn't want me to hate you too," she concluded and it felt like something was settled between Zhongli and her and Aether.

Yes, there were few things that stayed afloat—like how Zhongli could so easily regard Aether as a family or if he regardedheras one too—but she supposed it was… acceptable. Time was not a luxury she could afford, and that musing of hers was just another thing that fell somewhere in the line far beyond her priorities.

For now, at least, this kind of clarity was enough for her.

Lumine emptied her teacup and let Zhongli poured more for her. Their talk had yet to come to a close, and she could feel how he would press further regarding his request from earlier. However, rather than requesting, it felt like he was urging her to agree to his suggestion.

"May I inquire the reason for your refusal to the surgery?" Zhongli asked after a moment of long silence. The gentle scent of osmanthus tea contrasted the harsh edge of his question. "Your health, in spite of the promise I made to your brother, is of a great concern of mine by personal means."

Lumine tucked a few strands of loose hair to the back of her ear, breaking their eye contact to look at the flowing hot steam of the tea. "Because it would feel like a punishment, andhanahakiis already a big of a punishment for me."

For being selfish, for leaving Aether alone and be free in Mondstadt, for secretly envying his short-lived but happy life. Those were left unspoken, but, surely, Zhongli caught them like he always did. And Lumine expected him to come strongly at her because of this.

And he did.

Eyebrows were drawn together, and what used to be a neutral, almost forlorn look now had dissolved into a small frown. There was displeasure somewhere in his amber eyes, probably mixed with genuine concern and pity that seemed to pierce through Lumine's avoidance gesture.

"Nothing is wrong for one to reminisce about those who have passed. However, it is more important for one to mind oneself's condition." His voice was taut, stern, and it brought her a pang of guilt and a profound sense of defeat. "Lumine, youaredying."

The staggering of her hand that held the cup was too noticeable for eyes to see. Zhongli had stated the truth, and it was not as if she did not aware of it already, but hearing it from someone else was worse than her reminding herself. And coming from Zhongli, those words had a multitude bearing of undeniable fact.

Yet in Lumine's defense, it was not fair.

"Should I be punished more by having the memories of the one I loved removed? By having the ability to love someone erased?" she sighed and suddenly, everything she said held more weight than what she intended. "Tell me, how is that any different from dying?"

Zhongli's stern gaze did not change. If anything, the crease between his eyebrows only deepened. "Love is not everything. There is more to life than just loving and being loved."

"But what if one needs love in order to live? What if love was the only anchor they have in their life? To be stripped away from the ability of loving; wouldn't that be the same as living while dying inside?"

Wouldn't it be easier to just die and cease from existence?

Again, that sentence was left unspoken—yelled loudly inside her head, but too harsh to be spoken aloud. And again, Zhongli caught it perfectly. Perhaps from her face, perhaps from the way she phrased it, perhaps it was just another lucky guess because then, the one line he said next silenced her.

"Does death sound like a freedom to you?"

Archon…

Lumine could only stare at him in a sharp silence, and by the subtle sigh he let out, swallowed by the crack of thunder, she knew he received the answer through it.

'Yes'.

Because she longed for freedom. At first, it was the desire to be free from Liyue Harbor, then it escalated to from Aether's flower shop, her unforgettable guilt and regret, and peaked with her illness. If she thought it that way, then death sounded alluring as it felt like it promised her the eternal peace and happiness she failed to attain while living.

"It is a ruse," Zhongli shook his head with voice low baritone and smooth like a regal silk fabric woven from silk flowers, "however, I do get the impression that you are trying to find a way to… abruptly end things, unbothered by any means. I wonder why is that."

Lumine stared deep at those amber irises, gleaming with clarity like a cor lapis she once saw in the market, as cold and hard as the said mineral, with depth unfathomable. Seconds passed with cold winds filling the silence before she whispered an answer.

"To escape the pain."

Zhongli's gaze on her hardened. "I suppose it is of the same reason for those cuts on your arm."

She almost flinched at the blunt words. Surely, it took a scholar such as him no time to connect things, and maybe she was just so easy to read. "Foolish, isn't it?"

"It is, indeed."

A small laugh broke past her lips, one that directed toward herself in a poor attempt to ease the weight nestled in her chest. Yet it only became a mockery of its own accord.

"Maybe if the surgery could also erase bad memories, then I might consider it," the tea in her teacup had gone lukewarm by now as she sipped it, "since life has become a dull, mundane thing now that brother is gone."

"Surely you are exaggerating it," Zhongli's tone carried a frown with it.

She smiled cynically. "It's the truth."

Lumine felt bad for saying it to someone who had been, somehow, forced into promising on taking care of her. She never asked to be taken care of, nor did she ever wished for it. It was all Aether's plan. Maybe because he knew her tendency of spiraling down into a self-destructive behavior no matter how she tried to conceal it.

Still—

"I appreciate your wish of wanting to help me, Mister Zhongli, and I respect you for trying to keep your promise with my brother," she said slowly, "but my answer doesn't change. I won't take the surgery."

Zhongli shifted in his seat but said nothing to it. If anything, the grim line of his lips was pursing a little more and eyes narrowing together with a slow blink.

"I know that this love is hopeless. I'm fully aware of it, but…" Lumine added quickly and it was her turn to sigh now. "But I don't want to give up on it."

Zhongli lifted his cup, and not a moment wasted as he asked, "Is it Childe?"

And Lumine blushed lightly then averted her eyes. Her smile was lonely. "For the better or worse."

"Will you tell him?"

She looked at him. "Never."

And gone was the crease between his eyebrows, the frown his lips had once tugged into, the displeasure and disapproval from his amber eyes. What left there was the usual solemn and calculative gaze, yet free from any harsh judgment. For once, Lumine thought that it was a miracle that she could spill this much to a stranger.

"If that is what you wish, then, for now, I shall not force you to it any further." Zhongli reached to his pocket and placed down several paper pockets on the table. Lumine stared at it in a mixture of curiosity and confusion and waited for him to explain.

"It is something once used by a patient who underwent thehanahakiremoval surgery. It was taken to delay the development of the disease as he waited for the surgery procedure to be established."

A pair of golden eyes widened.

A medicine.

"However, it is not intended to curehanahaki, for it only meant to slow down its progression."

But it was still better than nothing, better than taking the surgery.

"Does it have any side-effect?" she asked cautiously.

A hand was brought to his chin; thumb and index finger brushing gently the spot it rested on in a thinking manner. "It does not have any known side-effect, as it was made to match the patient's physiological condition. However, I dare not to guarantee for it to have the same effect if you were to take it."

Lumine reached for the paper pockets filled with powdery medicine. "I'm taking it."

A subtle frown, once again, made its way to his face. "Lumine…"

"It's fine, Mister Zhongli. I will take it, and besides," she whispered, then, "I have nothing to lose."

Lumine certainly did not have any more to lose. It was not a big gamble for her, and the idea of having herhanahakidisease being slowed down was too good to be true already. It was only between working and not working, though she did not want to hope too much from it.

"Very well," Zhongli said with a sigh, "but I will be monitoring it and if things take turns into something bad…"

"I'll come to you. Immediately." Though, Lumine doubted it would come to it and wished it was just the anxious side of him to thought about it that way.

A moment passed after one last nod from him in another silence filled with the trickle of rain. Lumine watched as Zhongli drank his tea as if to conceal the barest smile formed by his lips. His eyes lingered on it before he whispered something as if talking to himself.

But Lumine heard it.

"Full many a gem of purest ray serene, the dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear."

And he paused at that.

A poem. She remembered stumbled upon it once back when she was looking through a book of poetry in Mondstadt's library. It was not the full stanza and Lumine thought he would just leave it at that. But then, he continued.

"Full many a flower is born to blush unseen," Zhongli looked at her as he set down his teacup, "and waste its sweetness on the desert air."

He was talking about her, in more than just one way. Lumine smiled thinly at herself—those lines matched her perfectly.

A sigh escaped her lips, both shallow and heavy at the same time. Thin fingers pulled down the rolled-up sleeve and buttoned it again. The deep red stain created a stark contrast against the white, but she could not do anything about that. Lumine picked the paper pockets and put them in her bag as she stood.

Zhongli followed her as if agreeing with her that there was nothing more to be discussed between them. It felt like Zhongli had achieved whatever his goal was and so did she. Thus, he accompanied her to the front door, both saying nothing while they were at it.

Lumine grabbed her umbrella, pulled open the door, and turned to him. "Thank you, Mister Zhongli. The tea was delicious."

And for the medicine.

His eyes softened and his lips tugged into a small, gentle smile. "It is my pleasure, Lumine."

"How much is–"

"It is on the house," he interrupted her.

Lumine eyed him questioningly, but seeing that there was no hesitation in him, she relented. A small nod to him, then she stepped out of the teahouse into the light rain fell on her umbrella.

Yet she turned suddenly as if forgetting something.

"Mister Zhongli, do you–" Lumine said and Zhongli held the door from being closed, "–know someone called Lady Guizhong?"

Amber eyes blinked mutedly. There was barely shift in his face, save it for the slightly furrowed brows. Then, he narrowed his eyes slightly.

"I am afraid that I… am not acquainted with anyone called Lady Guizhong."

Light voice, silky smooth as silk fabric, but dark clouds hung somewhere in him when he said that. Lumine refused to read too much into it.

"Alright," she nodded. "Again, thank you, Mister Zhongli."

And she walked away after receiving Zhongli's wordless nod. Lumine needed to take the medicine once she returned and prepare for lunch. Maybe something like jewelry soup or radish veggie soup to warm her stomach. She should be visiting Xiangling and Paimon today, but with the blood staining her shirt, she knew they would make a big deal out of it. Maybe she could change her clothes first then go to Xiangling's family restaurant after her lunch.

It was a sound plan. A company or two was definitely something she needed after days of heavy thoughts and discussion she just had with Zhongli. The idea of spending time with her friend barely ever crossed her mind since Aether's passing, and dare she say it was something she genuinely missed.

Maybe, finally, she could put her mind at ease. Xiangling and Paimon did not need to know about her stupid disease, but they could cheer her up. One full day, at least until the evening, spending time with them was something she needed now.

However, all thoughts and expectations flew away once she arrived at her shop to see a bloodied and unconscious person leaning against her door.

It was Childe.

Notes:

hello! it's been two weeks since i last updated this, so thank you so much for waiting patiently! i hope this worth the wait and i'm sorry for the slow update. i kinda give up on trying not to make it angsty... everything i typed becomes angsty so- anyway, thank you so much for reading and for supporting me! constructive criticism is always welcome and kudos and comments motivate me! I'll see you in my future update!

poem referred in this chapter:
A Lane in the Rain by Dai Wangshu
Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard by Thomas Gray, Stanza 14

Chapter 8: hellebore

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter fornotes.)

Chapter Text

There was a deep sense of reminiscence when Lumine gazed at the unconscious man resting on her lap.

Gray jacket marred in half dry maroon blotches was discarded somewhere, maybe sitting on the stool or table, while Lumine failed to find wounds befitting those blood on him. Slightly tanned torso was scattered with old scars; four small but deep cuts on his back, two long uneven ones on his left side, two stitches somewhere around his shoulder blades, and one next to the belly button. All but fresh wounds.

A swirl of confusion mixed with worry manifested in a gentle brush against damp hair and blanket draped over the feverish body. Care was something she would gladly pour to this man if only she could ever show it during his wake. Maybe she could, but then she would hope for something in return.

The flower shop at 11 am smelled no different from when it was at 5 am, 2 pm, or 9 pm. Always the subtle scent of fresh flowers mixed with paper and plastic wrappings and lemon-scented furniture cleaner. But the addition of 70% rubbing alcohol and a faint tangy scent reminded her of those afternoons spent in Favonius Cathedral with Barbara, tending injured knights or boy with scraped knees.

Memories flashed in and out—of pained groans when alcohol-imbued cotton pressed against charred skin, a string of curses fell from the patient, and Barbara's pinches to silence those potty mouths. Back then, if only Lumine was not too deep in thought of the unknown whereabouts of her parents, she would have heard the reason behind those injuries. It was either an adventurous story or a stupid reason.

Those memories were soon got overtaken by an abrupt realization that this was not the first time she had seen Childe in this state. No. This was her second time and the first time had happened weeks ago, marking her first encounter with him.

It was some time ago; three or four weeks after Aether's funeral and her failed attempt of drowning in the sea at 3 am. Back then, Lumine was—and still was—one restless soul drowned in tangled mind and empty feelings, sitting alone on the edge of a dock in Liyue Harbor.

Ocean howl filled the ears and wide eyes watched the faint glimmer of dark saltwater in its hypnotizing sway through welled up tears. Legs dangled back and forth, hands balled into tight grip against the wooden dock, and shallow breathes caught in the throat. The wet pants were dripping saltwater from its hem and a pair of shoes sat behind her.

Five minutes into 4 am and Lumine begged for seconds to tick slower. Determination had long gone with the cool ocean breeze and rationality kicked her into thinking; 4 am was the point where she should return, lock away the stupid idea, and never visit it again. Slow blinks pushed out tears sitting on lower eyelids, and when she glanced at the wristwatch laid on her lap, it was 4.03.

Lumine remembered trudging back through the empty street with a rivulet of tears staining cold cheeks and shame sitting on her shoulders weighed like tons. And amidst those tears and everything in-between, golden eyes spotted a hunched figure in front of the dark shop.

Unlike the present, back then Childe was pretty much conscious albeit injured everywhere. He shifted weights to fully leaning against the window when he noticed her. For no clear reasons, her feet dragged her body to stop in front of him and he threw a grin at her followed by "Don't worry about me. I'll be gone in the morning."

The click and clack from the unlocked door and merry jingle of bell bounced around the vacant shop. Lumine hated how she could still see Aether's shadow walking past her, carrying a heap of flowers in his arms even in the low light. Once the lights were flicked on, Aether was gone.

Something told her to check on the man. A pair of golden eyes peeked through the gap of the curtain, only to see he had slumped to the ground with blood smudging the dusty glass. Perhaps it reminded her of her own, drawn out by the tip of Aether's cutter on some quiet and lonely nights on the most inconspicuous part of her body, or perhaps she just needed a distraction from her noisy mind.

She dashed outside, somehow managed to drag him inside through blurry eyesight then treated injuries scattered on his upper body. He laughed through all the painful swipe of alcohol against raw wounds—sounded humorless and flat and just unbefitting of his state. Bloodied lips formed a tired smile once it stopped.

And when he cracked open his eyes, Lumine saw a deep ocean.

"Ojou-chan, you shouldn't invite a man into your house like this," the figure, theman, had said amidst heavy gasps of breath, lips tugged upward slightly. "Hm? No need to cry,ojou-chan. I'll be fine."

Lumine remembered replying to him with a deep frown and "I'm not crying for you," to which he responded with another broken laugh accompanied with a small smile. And then, as she treated his cut jaw, he brushed away fallen tears on her cheek.

She still remembered how his cold finger left a burning sensation there.

Back then, Lumine did not know the name of this man she rescued, did not even aware of his affiliation. But there was a rumor around the neighborhood when morning came, hours after his departure, several minutes rolling into a time somewhere between 7 and 8 when Lumine was sweeping the road in front of the shop. The lady owner of a perfumery several buildings away from the flower shop told her about it.

It was about one of the Fatui's Harbingers dubbed as Tartaglia "Childe", who was wreaking havoc somewhere in Liyue, had escaped to the harbor. His trademark was ginger-colored hair and dark blue irises, and one could easily mistake him as a teenager when he was somewhere in his early 20s, really. Be careful, the lady said, don't let any stranger know that you're living alone.

It took her no time to connect the dots together and Lumine thought that it was already too late. The stranger, or more likelyChilde, had known about her circumstances.

But Lumine had said nothing to it, not even when the Millelith came to ask around the neighborhood because one of the fishermen had seen a figure that oddly matched the description around there. Lumine thought it was none of her business. Maybe she had helped a bad guy, or maybe she had done more than just helping. Yet she doubted they would meet again so it should be fine.

That, until one afternoon on Wednesday came and he walked through the door to order a small bouquet of glaze lilies.

Lumine had always been a simple girl despite everything. By the time he called her—the same 'ojou-chan' that somehow rang nicely in her ears—she had to hold back the urge to ask whether he remembered her from that time before dawn. She stole glances at him as she worked on that bouquet, wondering if this man was good enough to walk around Liyue Harbor in broad daylight despite being pursued by the Millelith and Liyue Qixing.

But words died in her throat—together with the memory of news about how the Liyue Qixing ending their investigation regarding this man or the Fatui—when he flashed her a smile and gave her a head pat that was so oddly out of nowhere. His murmur of 'thank you' went past her as her breath was hitched somewhere inside her.

The jingle of the bell attached to the shop door was ringing loudly, merrily in her ears as the realization hit Lumine hard. She had fallen for him, for a guy she barely knew except for his bad reputation of being affiliated with the Fatui, and it surprised her.

But the realization about how hopeless that feeling of hers hit her the hardest.

Because, then, after minutes of standing in front of her shop with several long drags on his cigarette, a man came and those blue eyes reflected more than just elation in them. That cigarette was thrown to the dirt, bouquet passed to the long-haired man, and beet-red crept to his ears. And it took her only two more rendezvous of the two men in front of her shop to make the final judgment.

Yes, Childe was in love with that man, who happened to be one of the regulars of her shop.

Yes, the one blue petal she coughed out later in the evening was real.

Yes, Aether's stupid illness had grabbed ahold of her too now.

That evening, as she shoved away that one lone blue petal, Lumine was reminded of the time where she had helped Childe with his injuries while her brain frantically tried to remember Aether's folklore illness.

And now, Lumine wondered what would happen if she did not open that door back then.

Maybe she would not fall for him. Maybe she would only know him as her regular who kept meeting a certain man every Wednesday afternoon. Maybe she would not have thishanahakiand she could live peacefully.

But Lumine regretted nothing from it all.

Vivid scarlet color stained freshly applied bandage on the wound near his right eye; the only wound Childe had despite the amount of blood on his jacket. The constant rise and fall of his chest told her he was in a deep sleep, but fever caused him to occasionally mumbles in-between heavy inhale and exhale.

Tingles appeared when a cold, wet hand brushed against the hot forehead. It soon evaporated into a hot puff of air from a long exhale swallowed by the crack of thunder. A moment passed with noisy pitter and patter of rain hitting the roof and Childe's incoherent mumbling when she decided on one more thing.

Lumine needed to move him to the bed.

"Childe, Childe," Lumine called, tapping his cheek gently and he stirred awake. Two glassy, unfocused eyes glanced at her. "Can you stand? Let's get you to bed."

A slow nod from him accompanied the sharp pain shooting from her right ankle when she stood with Childe leaning on her. Maybe she sprained it earlier when they both fell after Lumine had tried to drag him into the shop—she had failed to manage his full weight and their balance altogether hence the fall.

But Lumine managed to convince herself that it was nothing big. This sprain could be easily treated later. She needed to do something with his fever first.

It was a full two or three minutes when Childe was finally laid on Aether's bed. Lumine picked up the blanket fallen somewhere along their slow trudging and draped it over him. Now, she only needed to prepare a compress to cool down his fever.

Shifting her weight to the left side, Lumine walked slowly to the kitchen to avoid putting more strain on her injured ankle. A kettle filled with water was placed on the stove and the flame then lit. Lumine waited, leaning back against the kitchen counter.

The sound of fire licking copper kettle brought her drifting into the question she had tried so hard to avoid into thinking. But her mind was such a persistent thing and it would not leave her alone. Always bugging, always itching to be noticed—those two questions swirled in her head.

Whose blood was it on Childe's jacket?

Certainly not his. Moreover, if Lumine could force herself to remember in which area did the Fatui excelled, then the only logical answer would be someone else's blood. She forced herself to be satisfied with just that.

The other question was what pushed Childe into unconsciousness and fever? Surely the man could take some rain and strenuous activity, else he would not be crowned with Harbinger title. Maybe he was already sick before whatever that led his jacket splattered with blood and him slumping against the door of her shop happened. Maybe he was hiding the fact that he was sick yesterday. Maybe–

"Are you sick, Childe?"

"Maybe."

–maybe she overlooked things she should had been able to notice.

Yet all of her was sure he meant another thing by that answer. That kind of sickness he meant was surely going the same direction as her kind of sickness—not physical pain, but something deeper. After all, he had always been carrying that underlying exhaustion beneath those boyish grins and carefree laughter. Someday, sometime later in the future, he was bound to break.

Or probably Lumine was just assuming things as she liked.

The whistle from the kettle broke her musing and the scent of boiled water filled the kitchen. A hand turned the burner off while another reached for a basin to fill it with cold water before adding a little of the hot water. It became lukewarm against her skin then she threw in a washcloth and walked back to her room with it.

When she returned, Childe was sitting on the bed with ocean eyes stared at her dazedly, following her move from the door to the bedside.

"Childe? You're awake already?" she asked, but earned no reply from him. The basin was set on the floor, and when she looked up to him, she saw something dropped to his cheek. Golden eyes widened and her mouth cracked open when she realized a moment later how they were tears.

Tears?

Why?

A hand reached to him, wiping away the wetness with a thumb, and a weight clung to her chest as she slowly stood to match his height.

"What's wrong?" Lumine asked again, yet still no reply from him and it started to worry her.

Childe was still staring at her, unblinking, silent, but those tears did not stop. The two hands resting on his lap slowly reached to her; one tugging on her blood-stained blouse and the other wrapped around her waist to pull her closer. No words were said as he did so.

She stiffened and whatever loudness drumming in her ears—probably her erratic heartbeat—drowned everything else. What was left of her heart now sunk to the pit of her stomach and all became silent when she heard his broken mutter.

"…jou-..cha–..?"

A clench, so tight in her chest, triggered a familiar itch and something crawled in her throat, begging to be freed. Those petals, Lumine thought, could choke her for all she cared, but she would never let herself cough them out in front of him. The sharp prickling sensation against her lungs almost brought out a pained whimper, but even so, she held back the itch with a quiet deep inhale. The flower in her lungs felt as if it grew.

Not now. Please, any other time but not now.

And apparently, herhanahakistill had some sort of mercy spared for her as the itch turned into more sharp pricks all over her chest. It hurt, everything in her chest hurt, but at least she did not need to cough out those damned petals.

"I'm here," Lumine managed to croak out an answer at last.

"–not… go…" he whispered, and Lumine wished—begged, really—that it was not his fever hallucination that pushed him into saying it. "Ple– stay…"

Archon…

Lumine felt the familiar stinging burn behind her eyes and her sight became blurred from tears.

She wanted to cry.

Because as much as she tried to believe that she could stay, death andhanahakistood side-by-side within her despite the medicine she took from Zhongli. There was no guarantee that it would work on her and it was not the cure; only to delay its development. Zhongli had warned her about that. Still, Lumine thought it was far better than having the memories of Childe be removed from her and unable to feel love again.

Her head bowed slightly, peering at the man whose eyes seemed like they were seeing past her, through her, to somewhere far away or to someone that was not her.

Maybe the one he was looking at in his dream right now was not Lumine. Maybe this was simply his reaction to his fever nightmare, like the one she and Aether would get every time they were down with fever. Maybe he just needed comfort from whatever he saw with his eyes now.

But Lumine could not deny how she wished it was meant for her, how she wished he was longing for her not to go and wither away.

(Because, then, maybe she would have something more to expect in life.)

Lips pursed into a tight line, she willed those tears to go away from her eyes. Lumine let him pulled her even closer with the side of his head leaning into the crook of her neck.

"Ssh, ssh, Childe," she whispered, running a hand against damp hair and another taking a hold of his hand fisting her clothes. They were hot under her touch. "It's only a nightmare. I'm here, I'm fine. It's all okay."

And Lumine stayed still for a while, letting her shoulders dampened by those tears until she was certain he had gone back to sleep. The hand circling her waist had gone slack but the grasp on her clothes was barely loosened. One last brush of a thumb against hot cheek then she gently uncurled his fist on the blouse and pushed him back to bed. A chair was pulled to the bedside and Lumine sat quietly there.

Silence filled the space around them, save it for the trickle of water each time Lumine squeezed the washcloth before returning it to his forehead. The constant rise and fall of his chest brought some sense of ease within her. Lumine dared to wish how time would just stop for a while, but it was so greedy of her.

Why, Lumine thought with a scoff for herself, was it that everything she wished to have had always been impossible?

Happiness, freedom, love.

Even love.

It's either dying for love or living without one.

(Pathetic aren't you, Lumine?)

She smiled thinly.

I am.

A hand brushed back strands of ginger-colored hair that fell across his face. Like this, in his quiet slumber, Childe seemed peaceful as if that cry never happened. She would be lying if it did not surprise her, yet it oddly delivered a sense of relief to her.

To be able to cry was a blessing, after all.

The damp washcloth became dry at some point during her mindless musing. Lumine had been repeating the same sequence of activities in the past thirty minutes and it almost became a set of mechanical movement to her. Only then, the sharp pain from her ankle finally caught her attention when Lumine knocked her foot against the chair legs.

Later, after placing the damp cloth back on Childe's forehead, she noticed how it had become swollen. Lumine frowned at that, at the pain, and grimaced.

She needed to tend to it.

Squeezing lightly his hand and a cool palm brushed hot cheek quietly, Lumine then stood and walked slowly to the kitchen. There should be an ice pack or two she kept in the freezer. Although Lumine had it for completely another reason, she had to admit that a part of her was keeping it just in case things like this happened.

She thanked Barbara inwardly for teaching her the proper basic first aid.

Bare feet directed her to the shop area instead of back to the room. Dull soft footfalls swallowed by the countless splash of rainwater against the pavement. She stood in the doorway, gazing at the unlit shop area and a gray jacket sitting on a stool.

Maybe, after tending to her ankle, she should wash the jacket while Childe was here. The sight of blood started to unnerve her.

Lumine slid to the stool, dragging up one leg with swollen ankle to press the ice pack to it. Beads of water rolled to her skin and she realized belatedly how she should cover her foot with a towel first. Yet energy left her and she could care less about her sprained ankle. It would heal on its own in two or three days, anyway.

At some point, Lumine stopped pressing the cold ice pack, dropped it on the table, and just stare at the blurry reflection of her own in the window glass. The blood on her white blouse—her own on the left sleeve and Childe's around the neckline—had dried and it was an ugly sight to see. Blood was never a pretty thing and usually, Lumine would panic if she saw it around Aether.

Yet she had to admit it; the blood on her blue petals made them look less dull.

Muted gaze fell on the bag laid on the floor just next to where she sat. A hand reached for it, fishing out paper pockets, and placed them on the table. Her chin rested on a knuckle and she studied the medicine. Maybe she could take one now.

A clatter and a flicker of light pulled her eyes away from the white pocket to find Childe standing, leaning against the doorframe. One hand hovered above the light switch while the other hung on his side with a frown directed at her. Eyebrows knitted but mostly it displayed confusion more than displeasure.

"Ojou-chan?"

And his voice was shaky, distant, like an idea barely sinking in the head. Lumine stood and approached him, trying to walk normally to hide the injury from him. But, well, some things never missed from his eyes, she guessed, because that frown grew deeper slightly as he watched her.

"You should be resting," Lumine tried to push him back to the direction of her room only to have him catching her wrist. There was more life in his eyes now.

"You're bleeding."

She shook her head. "Not my blood." At least the one around her torso. It was not a lie.

"And your ankle is swollen," he sighed. "You should be the one who rests."

"It's–" but it fell flat to the floor, or maybe caught within a startled gasp when he lifted her all of a sudden to put her down on the stool after some brisk strides. He sat in front of her, then, on the floor, and reached for the ice pack sitting on the table. "It's okay, it's nothing big," she finished lamely.

There was an affirming hum coming from him but he pressed the ice pack against her ankle, still. Lumine held back a flinch, a blush, a tired sigh, and a sudden urge to cry altogether. She brushed back his hair, resting her palm on his forehead to find it was somewhere within the normal body temperature range. Childe lifted his head with a questioning quip of an eyebrow and she pulled away.

"You were burning," she bit her inner cheek, eyes avoiding meeting his. There was a swirl of weird sense of being self-conscious mixed with an awkward tone when she spoke and Lumine hated it.

He laughed lightly. "It's a normal reaction."

Reaction to what?

"And you were unconscious," Lumine bit harder and she thought it might draw out blood, "in front of my shop."

The man blinked—eyes sweeping the space around him, maybe taking in the familiar row of fresh flowers inside glass containers and dried flowers hung in the wall as decorations. Again, he blinked and Lumine waited.

"Right. Here of all places," Childe nodded almost distractedly. Blue eyes returned to her feet. A pause, then he added, "I wonder why."

Lumine wondered that too. She also wondered if she should tell him how he was talking in his sleep, but then thought it was unnecessary. No harm was done with it except it brought a faint blush to her face as she remembered it again.

Yes, Childe did not need to know.

"Your jacket," she started after a moment passed with her focusing on the trickling rain and not on the hot and cold sensation against her skin, "should I wash it?"

She heard him asking her "Why?" and Lumine pointed with her gaze. Childe stilled for a bit, eyes widened slightly before one hand brushed against the bandage next to his eye. A quiet sigh did not escape her ears. "No need,ojou-chan. I've troubled you enough."

"There's nothing wrong with asking for help."

"That's not it."

"Then, what is it?"

Again, she reached for his hair and brushed her hand there. A voice screamed at the back of her head, alerting her to what she had done unconsciously. Lumine wanted to slap herself for daring herself to do that—to display her fondness so blatantly and wished for him not to notice it while also longing for him to catch it.

Lumine only wished he was anything but sharp like Zhongli.

The smile she tried to put on ended up crooked. "Bad Harbinger day at work?"

Childe laughed and even that sounded off. "Bad," he nodded, and his voice lowered down until it was all ebb and flow. "Just a lot more... tiring."

Her hand rested on the side of his head, carefully avoiding the wound. "Want to talk about it?"

He shook his head slowly. "It's fine. It's all done already."

Lumine doubted it was that simple, but she did not ask further. It would be better not to push him and just wait. She knew that if he wanted to tell her, then he would.

But seconds turned into minutes and no words were exchanged between them—only the quiet brush of her hand on his hair and gentle press of the ice pack against her ankle. Time seemed to be coming to a halt and everything felt oddly fine. This silence and his presence; Lumine had gotten so used to it that it brought peace to her.

Even now she indulged in his presence and not once did the idea of Aether or her illness knocked into her mind.

Childe moved, silently, quietly, to pull the ice pack away. Long arms reached for her medical supply box and took out an elastic bandage Lumine never knew she had. It must be from her days back in Mondstadt of assisting Barbara in the medic ward.

A warm hand brushed against her feet and that small contact elicited a reflexive twitch from her. Lumine muttered a small "sorry" and retracted her hand from his hair to fall idly on her lap, somewhat disliking the emptiness within her palm. The bandage was wrapped around her ankle, not too tight, but enough pressure to keep any unnecessary movement from it. Lumine touched it gingerly when it was done.

"Thank you," she murmured as Childe placed the box on the table and walked to the stool across her, occupied with his jacket.

This time, the grin he gave her told her he had reverted back to the Childe she saw every day. "No worries,ojou-chan. I'm quite used to it."

"Right," then her gaze fell to the pansies sitting in the vase—they would wither soon in two or three days and maybe she would have to throw it away. "You often picked a fight with the thugs around here, I heard."

"Collecting debts too," Childe added, "sometimes I did both at the same time."

Lumine should be bothered by it, yet could not help herself but letting out an amused sigh. Her eyes fell on the jacket in his hands. "I wonder what else does the Fatui make you do."

That you have blood all over your clothes and barely conscious.

"Anything with money involved, managing a branch of a brothel, keeping tabs on clients," he listed casually as if he was talking about his favorite food. "Basically all the dirty works you can think of."

"Drugs too?"

"No. Not anymore," Childe rested his head on an open palm as he eyed her. The trace of exhaustion could be seen in them even if his smile was bright. He must be aching for a cigarette or two. "Last time we did it, we got into trouble with the Liyue Qixing."

Must be that one time that made her meet him, she thought. Somehow, Lumine finally understood why he called himself a bad guy. Childewasa bad guy in that sense but never became one around her. If anything, he did not look like he was with the Fatui, let alone one of its Harbingers, whenever he was with her.

That was why she dared herself to trust him.

That was why she had no other choice but to fall deeper for him.

"Does Mister Zhongli know?" Surely that man would notice his occupation at first glance if he could tell herhanahakiwith one.

But to her surprise, Childe shook his head. "He doesn't know."

"What would you do if he knew?"

"Ifsenseisays nothing about it, then it's all okay."

"Won't you get into trouble telling me this?" she asked and it earned her a shift in his smile. It was no longer reaching his eyes. If Lumine did not know better, she would be intimidated by that, but she knew and she hated that smile.

Dark blue eyes narrowed slightly. "Will you sell me out?"

"No," she closed her eyes, "I'm sure the Qixing are all aware of this."

Childe's smile returned to being one that was bright and relaxed. A hand reached to her and landed on her head, patting her there lightly. Golden eyes flew open and Lumine fought a blush to break as a pleasant flutter and warmth flooded her.

"Attagirl."

Itch.

Shit.

It itched. So bad. The petals were begging to be released. Cold dread crashed against her as the air suspended in her throat, blocked by the petals sitting somewhere in that tract.

Lumine took back her word about herhanahakisparing some mercy on her. This was far worse.

A fit of hard cough escaped her lips before she could contain it and two hands flew to cover her mouth immediately. Lumine pulled away from his hand, turning around, and bent her body to cover more of the cough.

No, no, no, no…

In her palms, there was a soft velvety touch that marked her blue petals mixed with the disgusting warmth that was her blood. Strings of curses burst in her head as panic surged and dread pooled deeper.

What if Childe sees this?

Back then, when Childe and Zhongli were there, Lumine was able to cover those petals with her apron and there was no blood, but would she be able to fool him again now?

A weight settled on her back and it scorched again. It was a lot bearable as the prickling sensation overwhelmed all, and Lumine knew Childe was next to her. The fit had subsided, but the burn persisted.

"Ojou-chan, you okay?"

Lumine nodded, not quite trusting her voice to be fine after all this. She felt Childe's presence went away and took the chance to shove those petals into her bag and wiped away the blood with the inner side of her skirt. If these were unable to fool him, then Lumine did not know what could.

Later Childe returned with a glass of water when Lumine was unfolding one of the paper pockets. A silent thank you thrown from her eyes and the medicine was tasteless on her burning tongue. If luck was ever on her side and if she could pick a choice, then the only thing she needed was for this medicine to work with her body.

That, unless her fate said the otherwise.

"I'm fine," she was not; it was still burning and prickling within her, "thank you for the water."

From the way Childe stared at her, it looked like he was almost not buying it. However, he said nothing and opted to pick up his jacket. "I'll leave now so you can rest,ojou-chan."

Lumine wanted to tell him that it was all fine now after she took the medicine, but she did not want to take chances again. She was lucky Childe had left her to bring her water, but that luck was not going to repeat itself. It was too arrogant of her already for hoping the medicine would work properly on her.

Better safe than sorry. Always.

"Thank you, Childe," was the only thing she could say with a small voice.

His eyebrows knitted together when he looked at her. "I'll try to return this evening with something to eat."

"It's okay, Childe. I'll cook myself a nice dinner." Lumine would just cook a rice porridge at most. She had no appetite since the fit.

"Promise you will eat?"

A nod. "Promise."

Doubt did not leave his gaze, and Lumine fought hard not to avert her eyes. A sigh escaped him then he pushed open the door.

"Take the umbrella," Lumine called, pointing at her folded umbrella standing against the corner. She barely remembered how did she fetch it after letting it fall somewhere on the street upon seeing Childe unconscious in front of her shop. "Don't want to catch a cold again, do you?"

And she doubted it was a mere cold he had earlier, as much as she wanted to believe that he had recovered already. Yet Childe did not tell her anything about it so Lumine had no other choice than to believe him.

The man pulled open the navy umbrella, saluted her with that usual boyish smile, then walked away amidst the pouring rain. When his figure disappeared, only then did Lumine let herself fell to the table with hands clenching hard around her chest.

The scorch refused to go and the needles felt like they were burning as it stabbed her. A hand reached weakly for her bag, pulling it to the table, and just turned it upside-down until there were no more petals left inside.

It was eight again. It wasstilleight and bloodied. Lumine refused to think the reason why they had more blood than how they were this morning. She just could no longer reason with her throbbing head, with her aching ankle, with her burning chest. Her head was buried into her folded arms and she focused to breathe.

And Lumine fell asleep while she was at it.

The ticking sound started to echo in the room and Lumine stirred awake to realize a little too late how the lights were out and it lacked the quiet hum of the cooler for her stored flowers. She turned only to see the lamp switch was still at its on side. Great, Lumine snorted inwardly, she skipped her lunch because of the sleep and now she had a blackout.

A tired sigh fell from her and pushed herself up from the table to straighten her spine. Golden eyes then found themselves drawn to the bandage wrapped neatly around her ankle. Her interlaced fingers rested on the wooden table, and her eyes no longer searching for the figure with dark orange hair. The rain had stopped, perhaps it stopped when she was asleep, and beams of sunlight pierced through scattered clouds.

The unlit shop area became lighter and a breeze brushed past the gossamer curtain through the small gap on the door. Lumine gathered the scattered petals and paper pockets, locked the front door then walked to her room.

And it smelled like rain and the faint scent of tobacco when she came in.

The water basin and the washcloth was sitting alone on Aether's bedside table. His blanket was folded neatly while a pack of cigarettes lie idly under the chair next to the bed.

Must be his.

She could return it tomorrow. Now, she needed to change into clean clothes and wash her blood-stained blouse and skirt and when everything was done, it was already 6 pm. Lumine should be cooking her porridge, but hunger was a far-fetched idea for her and she doubted she could stomach anything right now. The power was still out and Lumine lit a candle with the stove and brought it back to her room.

Seconds ticked painfully slow and a stretch of silence deafened the ears. There was nothing she could do; no reading, no planning for tomorrow's work, nothing. So Lumine just sat on her bed with one uninjured leg drawn close to her chest as she stared blankly at the pack of cigarettes.

Perhaps it was out of boredom that Lumine pulled one and lit it with the fire from her candle. Her shadow on the wall danced as the fire flickered when it licked the paper to burn it.

The gleam of a sharp blade sitting on the bedside table was too dull for her itchy hand to grab. Outside, the moon was shrouded by dark clouds and the dimly-lit room now smelled like burnt tobacco and lethargy. Lumine eyed the lone cigarette trapped between her fingers and wondered why Childe liked it.

So she inhaled it slowly.

Then she coughed harshly.

There were no petals or blood but it burned her chest, her throat, her lungs, her mouth. Hopefully, it burned the flower too. Lumine could only hope.

Hot ash fell to the makeshift ashtray from an old unused cup, smoke swirled lazily above her to disappear on the ceiling, and Lumine could not fall asleep. The night was dragging but dawn came too fast. The cigarette was found dipped in the plastic basin on the floor when she woke up after fallen asleep somewhere around 3 am.

Lumine's dream of drowning in the sea dissolved into a flurry of air bubbles popping and the absence of her cough and bloodied blue petals within her hands.

Notes:

greetings! first of all, thank you for being so patient with me the past two weeks have been hectic for me and it won't die any time soon so! i have an announcement for the next and future updates! this fic will be updated once in two weeks at most, but I'll require extra days for chapter 9 as i'll have postgrad entrance exams next week... thank you so much for understanding and for supporting this fic!

as usual, constructive criticisms are always welcome and kudos and comments never failed to brighten my days and motivate me! i'll see you in future updates!

Chapter 9: rhododendron

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter fornotes.)

Chapter Text

Lumine was one soul teetering on a fine line between the somnolent wakefulness of 6.34 am and consciousness submerged in the timeless ocean of memories named dream.

She drifted in further, deeper, down to the memory's lair, and air bubbles popped around her one by one. The course of water shifted and created a gentle nudge of dull echoes in her ears. Lumine turned and the vivid sensation of holding Aether's warm hand dispersed into the humid air and thin scent of smoke.

Golden eyes cracked open, taking in the penetrating yellow light from dawn long gone through the cracks of the beige curtain. Tuesday rolled lazily into the mind nestled on a sunny smile, long golden hair set aflutter, and waves crashing the shore of a far-off beach. The clock sitting on the bedside table told her it was 6.35 am.

It was a weird time to wake up to, but Lumine took it all in through blurred vision—the sight of the longer hand settling atop of 7 and the shorter hand pointing at the lonely gap between 6 and 7. Dawn had really long gone and this was not supposed the time she woke up.

4 am. Lumine was supposed to wake up somewhere around that time.

It could be sooner or it could be later, but she never exceeded the break of dawn; never exceeded the way deep violet sky bled into a washed-out red hue and melted into pale orange bordering white. Lumine never woke up to a blue sky. It was always either deep amethyst or shy vermillion.

Or lately, it would be when the sky was still blanketed by the darkness.

Outside, the azurite sky was adorned by scattered white clouds, accompanied by the thin gossamer veil of rain. Pitters and patters of water hitting the ground were muffled by the window with bright sunlight fell to the floor. It glowed, catching her eyes, then it finally sunk in her.

It was a sunshower.

Someone, maybe a good person, died today. Aether used to tell her that; folklore from somewhere she could not remember but often heard back when they lived in the orphanage. That was what came to mind instead of the postscript of her wonder about a missing piece in her unusually tranquil rousing.

Maybe she was still stuck inside her dream, after all. However, the dryness hanging around her mouth was too real and the ache inching from her lower limb was too sharp for a dream.

Her dream did not feature a smoke-scented room with a cup knocked over by the leg of bed and ash spilled from there, nor did it had a half-used cigarette floating inside the plastic basin. Her short dream consisted of her sinking, drowning deeper into the depth of a bottomless ocean. And with her sank, a memory of Aether and her walking on the subtle overlap between ocean and beach flashed in and out.

Here was not the dark ocean, here did not have those soft echoes of a lull of the sea, hence this was not a dream. However, it felt like reality had yet to grab ahold of her as her mind barely processed anything more than what she saw and felt.

Lumine wondered why.

It could be caused by the rain, as rain always brought a sense of intrusive melancholy and sluggish movement with it. Or maybe a part of her was left sinking further in that ocean, or it could be simply caused by the lack of sleep.

Maybe it was a mixture of them; all become one bad cocktail of a heavy body, tongue aching for the bitter taste of coffee, and mind stuck in the depth.

A hand rubbed the heaviness away from her pale eyelids and the other helped to push her body into a sitting position. Everything spun slightly before it stilled after a moment of rubbing the temple lightly with hot fingers. The floor was cold under her bare feet when she slid out of bed.

The slow trudge across the room after a quick hot shower was a painful one. One end of the elastic bandage was dragging behind her; Lumine gave up trying to wrap them neatly the way Childe did. She just left it loose around her foot and proceeded to brew herself a cup of coffee. Today would be another no-sugar-in-her-coffee day. Its bitterness was needed to wash away any residue of cigarette taste.

There was a fleeting feeling that she was missing something and it worsened the more she tried to think about it. When Lumine came to the shop area, all ebbed away as she clicked a button of an old recorder sitting on the corner of the counter as if it was mere decoration.

In the still space, a piano piece began playing in dulcetsotto voceagainst the barrage of noise from rain meeting the pavement outside.Lent et Douloureuxreverberated smoothly and Lumine briefly remembered how it used to carry her to sleep amidst the thunderstorm years ago.

Time seemed to be robbed away as the piece sailed to her, sculpting two children of similar faces huddling in a bed. For a moment, the space around her was made of andante heartbeat, ground coffee beans, the ebb and flow of childhood memory, and wilting pansies. Yet time marched on and all left after three minutes passed were the mechanical whirring noise from the old recorder and more rain.

The trickles of the rain could be so hypnotizing in their own way. One moment it swallowed up the loud chatters from a group of old ladies with umbrellas passing by her shop, and another it instilled an endless stretch of a deafening quietus across space.

Somewhere amidst those moments, Lumine was one person sitting still with eyes boring heavily, absentmindedly, on the drifting hot air from coffee on the table. She shifted, hands circling the hot cup to bring it to her lips, and mechanic noise died completely.

Silence fell like a heavy blanket draped around her as her tongue tasted the bitter coffee. The rain became background noise and for once, Lumine was freed from the pulsating ache of her ankle as she drifted away from reality. That, however, lasted for just a good one or two minutes.

Because the phone rang and all sound came pouring in and it brought along the pain on her ankle. The first two notes replayed from the recorder was overlapping together with her voice answering the call. Verr Goldet's voice on the other end sounded troubled somehow.

"–a bouquet of white chrysanthemums," she paused for a beat, "or roses? For today?"

"Of course." Lumine barely registered the first half of what the woman said, but she knew white chrysanthemums or roses meant only one thing.

"Oh, thank Archon!" Verr Goldet sounded relieved now, fervently so, while Lumine wondered if what Aether said about the sunshower was true. "Then, I'll come to pick it up as soon as possible!"

And the call ended. The recorder once again emitted a whirring noise then died completely before the piece started replaying after a pause. Lumine returned the receiver to its place then dragged herself to the storage area—ignoring the persistent pain from her ankle—to pick up roses and returned to the workstation.

Ten roses lie motionlessly on the table and Lumine thought it was too lonely. A bouquet consisted only of roses and some foliage would be too dreary. Surely, Verr Goldet would not mind if she added some cecilias and carnations. Maybe purple statices too.

And off she went back to the storage room to get the remaining flowers, but not before pulling off the elastic bandage from her ankle. The way it trailed before her seemed as if it was inviting her for another trip for the other ankle to be twisted too. One was enough of a hassle already; Lumine did not want to be rendered completely immobile.

The beige bandage was left on the table near the roses and Lumine felt better without it. Not less painful, but at least it did not hinder her limp walk.

Lumine returned with a handful of flowers when a set of knock interrupted a shift from pianissimo to forte of the piece resonated in the background. She promptly glanced to the door, wondering if it was the woman from the phone call.

But the knock did not come from the door—another knock rang from the glass pane of the window still covered by the curtains. Lumine approached the window and pulled open the curtain, leaving the gossamer one swaying with the motion.

Then, golden found blue.

Behind that glass, the familiar sight of a ginger-haired man holding a navy umbrella stood with a small smile. He tilted his head slightly to the front door and lifted up a familiar package of what seemed to contain the usual breakfast. Lips tugged slightly upward, Lumine then unlocked the door.

However, when the door swung open, a small frown quickly took its place on his profile. Eyes fixed to the flowers in her hold, then they moved to her feet; probably noticing the way she put her weight on the uninjured one.

Lumine quickly turned away to return to the barely started bouquet, partly to escape his disapproving look as well. But the ground disappeared from beneath her feet as a pair of arms lifted her. A small gasp escaped her and the brief surprise changed into a heightened embarrassment. One hand awkwardly gripped his shoulder to balance herself, fingers dug into the maroon shirt, and head tilted downward as she was taller than him in this position.

His frown remained as their eyes aligned once again. "Do you have to work so early today,ojou-chan?"

"Childe," she blurted out his name, and then feeling even more embarrassed for the stutter that followed, "p–put me down."

Golden eyes glanced away from him, from his penetrating gaze that would make her squirm if her position allowed her. They fell to somewhere behind him, at the puddles on the street outside, at anything that was not his eyes. His gaze on her felt both embarrassing and uncomfortable at the same time.

Childe said nothing and strode briskly. Only when he reached the table then he put her down on the stool, placed the package he brought with him on the table, and crouched in front of her. His hands were quick to take off her shoe and the frown grew deeper at the sight of a small swell there.

"Where's the bandage?"

Lumine placed the flowers on the table carefully. "On the workstation," she said quietly.

And she watched him glancing to the station, walked there, and returned with the item in question. He sat in front of her, on the floor, as if repeating the same sequence of action from yesterday.

"You should use it," he continued and began to wrap it, cold hands brushed against her skin. "And don't move too much."

Lumine swallowed thickly, trying to push away the embarrassment. Her hands grasped the apron tight as if such gesture could permanently banish the warm flutter in her chest.

"I was… in a hurry to pick up a call," Lumine lied but telling him the truth felt like it would just turn things even more complicated. She did not want to mind much about her ankle, but she doubted Childe would let it go.

"A call?"

If Lumine was watching intently at the way he wrapped the bandage, then she might have not noticed the spike somewhere in his voice. But her quick heartbeats were distracting her from focusing and memorizing things that she ended up noticing that shift.

His voice—it did not carry the usual curiosity together with that question, she thought. It was deeper, more than just the casual, harmless curiosity, more like… a suspicion.

Why?

Certainly, Childe had no reason to be suspicious over a phone call. It was not a rare occasion for her; an early and sudden phone call for an order or two came in from time to time. It had been like that even before she left for Mondstadt, and it stayed the same even after she returned to Liyue.

Maybe she was just reading too much into it.

Lumine glanced briefly at the roses lying idly on the workstation. A white ribbon hanging from the edge of the table reminded her to change it into a black one. Her eyes swept back to him, eyeing the movement of his hands.

"Someone ordered a bouquet," Lumine replied before the pause stretched too far.

Childe looked up to her suddenly and his moving hands were jerked to an abrupt stop. The first thing she saw was his wide eyes and lips set in a thin line. Again, those eyes captured her and she was thrown to the moment where he first cornered her into answering his question about Aether.

"Who?"

A low baritone voice echoed in her ears like a growl and she stiffened. Lumine could barely hear the piano piece playing, barely heard the rain drizzling, as she was caught in his sharp gaze. A muted coldness swirled in those eyes and before she realized it, her hand had gripped the apron tighter.

"Who is it?"

Golden eyes widened. Those ocean eyes were pulling her into its depth. It started to become hard to breathe; the intensity choked her out of the air, perhaps erasing the idea of breathing itself.

It was–

"Ojou-chan, tell me who is it from."

–scary.

"Miss Verr Goldet," she breathed out the woman's name along with a puff of hot air she did not realize had been holding, "from Wangshu Inn."

A bouquet of white chrysanthemums or roses. Verr Goldet would pick it up today as soon as she could. Yes, that was the order.

Yet somehow, Childe looked like he was not convinced. A clipped, wintry tone accompanied his next suspicion-laden question. "So early in the morning?"

Lumine nodded while forcing her hands to let go of her apron. Probably it was not just her imagination or that she was reading too much into it, after all?

An uncomfortable twist in her stomach forced a sharp intake of breath as she replied, "It's just a condolence bouquet."

"Ojou-chan."

Again—that sharp tone.

The gleam in his eyes became more pronounced as they narrowed together with the ring of a silent yet tight voice. "If someone unusual came here– If you notice weird people outside the shop, I want you to close the shop early and lock the door."

Thisdrove her into confusion. Why?

However, before she could ask or even let it completely sink in her, Childe continued, "Don't come out if you hear any loud noises or if anyone comes knocking afterward–"

"Childe, what–"

"–don't open the door. Just stay in your room. Can you promise me that?"

Lumine was at a loss for words. Deep confusion and surprise mixed together and it clouded her mind. His hand gripped hers tight and the degree of intensity that resided within those words robbed her of any question she needed to ask.

Liyue Harbor had been safe even with the Fatui roaming around. There were barely ruckus if the ones Childe caused and cases of pickpocketing around the dock could be pushed aside. So why now he told her that as if there would be something big happening soon?

The pause was filled by mechanic noise and the expectant stare of two blue eyes. Her lips parted, trembling slightly. Lumine finally found her voice. "What's going on?" her question came in a whisper.

"Nothing," his dismissal was a plain lie and both knew Lumine did not buy it.

"Childe, I can't–" Lumine made a sharp inhale at the sudden break of an uncomfortable clench in her chest, "I'm not going to promise you anything if you refuse to tell me."

Lumine was not stupid, and this was too much to be called as nothing. She needed to know the reason for this sudden barrage of alarming words.

But then he replied, "It's not something you should concern yourself with."

"But it is," she pressed, hands gripped back his that tried to pull away. A sigh escaped her. "Unless… if it's a Fatui matter?"

His hand twitched under her hold and Lumine realized that was the case. Maybe, most likely, conceivably. She loosened her hold as Childe answered her with a rigid nod.

Lumine did not know if he was lying or not, but she knew for sure that she would get nowhere if she pursued the matter further. She let the man pulled back, let him broke their gaze, let herself believed his words even if he had told her not to trust him.

Because what else that she could do now if not believing him and his words?

"Alright."

With a nod, with imaginary fingers being crossed, Lumine returned that silent nod with an answer that was just as short. The way he glanced back at her told her that Childe was not expecting it, but even so, he said nothing to it.

Neither said anything after that.

Another quiet moment materialized between them with Childe handling the bandage and Lumine watching him silently. Seconds came and flew away in the lengthened silence between them, with the occasional small rumble of thunder and whirring noise from the old recorder filling blank pages of seconds. The sunshower had turned into a heavy rain now, with the sky littered by gray clouds and golden sunlight unable to touch the ground. Gymnopedie and rain became a mixture of white noises flowing through her.

Another minute passed and Lumine shifted to stare absently at how thin vapor moved like a minuet from the coffee. The paper package sitting next to it gave off a light buttery, salty scent amidst strong caffeine.

It might be filled with fisherman's toast—her favorite, his pleasure of buying them—but all of her doubted she could stomach it. Appetite was still nonexistent, but Lumine might need to force herself to eat. She had not eaten anything since the last morning, after all.

When cold skin touched her heel, she almost flinched and that contact pulled her out of whatever trance she was in. Lumine glanced back at Childe to find his hand on the base of her feet and the bandage was now wrapped securely, neatly, around her ankle.

If the air allowed her to, Lumine would like to praise him for the neat work, but it was too heavy between them. That, and everything else was brushed out of her focus when the coldness of his skin lingered.

It worried her.

Without so much thought, Lumine brushed back hair fallen across his face to place a hand on his forehead. Maybe it startled the man a little as she could feel the slight jolt. He looked up to her with a small tilt of the head and one eyebrow rose in a silent question.

"I thought you have a fever again," Lumine said quickly, quietly, and the tension melted away slowly.

His shoulders eased and his body looked a lot less agitated and taut. The slow blink and slight lean of his head into her palm blew away vestige of heavy air and suffocating strain. Palpable exhaustion, however, hung around him like a persistent stain.

Childe did not have a fever. If anything, it was her hand that was hot against his cool skin. Lumine would be lying if she did not find it pleasant to the touch, and that flutters were surging back to her somewhere inside her chest from the way he leaned into her hand.

He looked vulnerable like this.

(And Lumine wanted to be that someone he found comfortable to be vulnerable around.)

"I'm fine,ojou-chan," he murmured, closing his eyes.

Lumine wanted to pull him into her—to let him bury his face on the crook of her neck the way he did yesterday amidst delirium.

(And to let him be freed from whatever invisible shackles chaining him.)

But she did not. She could not. Not when the chance of a slip-up might happen was big. Lumine was not going to let him realize that she had been fostering one specific, reserved feeling toward him. That feeling either died together with her or with the disappearance of her memories of him if she ever took that surgery option.

The way he replied to her with a short answer, however, only heightened her concern. Or rather, her nervousness. An icy swirl swam inside those oceans before they disappeared behind the lids. But it lingered, the coldness, ever-present now and then, just like a ghost.

Lumine retracted her hand hesitantly after the dragging seconds of letting herself indulge in her fantasy that Childe accepted her touch. She then let it fall on her lap. "Really?"

"Positive," he replied with a small smile as if to completely push away her nervousness. Childe stood with a hand placed on his hip. "Though,youshouldn't move around too much. It won't recover at this rate."

Lumine wanted to trust that smile, to believe in those words. Just to humor herself that she was being anxious for no good reason. Maybe she needed to humor herself more.

(Despite that, the anxiety did not disappear.)

"I'll be fine. It feels better already," she countered, her lips forced out a tug of a smile. Then as if to prove her words, Lumine stood and tried her best to hold back a wince. "See?"

The way his eyes narrowed told her he still had his doubt. However, just like yesterday, he said nothing and walked to the door. She followed him, a hand flew to his rolled-up sleeve to tug on it when he gripped on the door handle. Lumine did not understand why she did it, even barely realizing what she had done.

"Breakfast," she forced out something, anything, to reply Childe's questioning gaze. Lumine glanced briefly at the paper bag on the table then returned to face him. "Won't you have it?"

With me. Together. Like always?

She wanted to add that, to reassure herself that the coldness would disappear completely, then, and Childe would revert back to his usual boyish smile and light tone. Yet it seemed to be still too much of hope because, then, Childe shook his head.

"I'm in a hurry,ojou-chan," was his reply and it took all of her not to read that answer too deep or stray further from its literal meaning. The jagged edges present in that answer felt like they were prickling her.

Still, it would not hurt to try asking for the other time, right?

...right?

She ignored the prickles and tightened her grasp on that maroon fabric. The swallow of her own saliva was heavy and did not ease the dryness of her throat. The question came in a meek voice. "What about dinner, then?"

"That…" Childe trailed off and Lumine picked up the answer easily.

She just needed confirmation.

"Also… no?"

He nodded slowly, eyebrows knitted and lips pursed tight. That wordless answer sounded louder in her.

A small huff of breath escaped her before she could prevent it. The disappointment was thick in that puff of hot air, perhaps giving that fact out to him. Childe's muted gaze softened and for once, it was devoid of that coldness she saw earlier. One hand, free from the black glove, rested on her head and brushed her hair.

The smile that formed later, and given to her, looked too strained to be called as one.

"I'm… sorry," he whispered, then.

Somehow it sounded heavy.

And broken.

And maybe that apology meant for more than just his rejection of having breakfast together like they usually did. Maybe for that sudden burst of—almost—panicked warning too, or for being somewhat harsh on her.

Truthfully, at this point, Lumine felt like she could forgive him for anything. Yes, Lumine would have laughed at herself if she was alone; she was really blinded by her feelings for him. It was a miracle already that she did not let him took any advantage of her.

(Then again, somehow, Lumine knew Childe was not that kind of person.)

Lumine chewed lightly on her inner cheek and released her grasp on his sleeve as if it bit her. "No, no, it's okay."

It was… not okay. Honestly. But Lumine could not be selfish; no, she could and should not. Childe might have other important things to do—whatever one with Harbinger title might have in his list. Another debt-collecting perhaps? Maybe some kind of a meeting? Or something else?

Something that did not involve her, Lumine,ojou-chan, in that context. That was for sure.

(Sometimes Lumine wished for him to call her name instead of–)

Lumine should have known about it, but the way they had been spending mornings together like a routine made her hope. Well, she could only hope, she supposed; nothing was ever wrong from hoping. It was her fault that she started to expect something from that hope.

"Just… don't push yourself too hard," she added after shaking unnecessary thoughts away, "and be careful."

His safety was all she needed. So they could return to the usual routine, so she could secretly indulge in his presence.

This time, finally, Childe chuckled and it soundedhim. Like the usual Childe. As if whatever reason he had for his sudden outburst from minutes ago never existed. Lumine allowed herself to think that he had returned even if there were things that bothered her still.

A cool hand moved to the side of her head, brushing away strands of hair and carefully tucking them behind her ear. Calloused palm cupped hot cheek and Lumine wanted to lean into it and just stay there for more hours.

Of course, she could not do that. It was just a silly yearning pipe dream of hers.

His thumb swept over her cheekbone softly and a shudder ran through her. The way he gazes at her gave her another clench in her chest, a flutter somewhere in her stomach, and more,morefierce urge to just blurt out everything.

Childe, did you know that you're not playing fair this way? That I like– I love you so much it hurts?

But nothing came out, for the best or worst. A tilt of her head was all she gave Childe as she waited for him to say something, anything.

An exhale faded in the rain song, lost in Gymnopedie, then he spoke. Weariness followed right behind those words spilled from once pursed lips. Lumine wished for time to tick slower.

"You do that,ojou-chan, then I will."

Then Childe was gone behind the closed door, but the weight, the brush, the coolness of his hand stayed in the sustained seconds. Her back leaned to the door and Lumine cupped her cheek, gathering whatever left of coolness and rough skin there. A mixture of happiness, embarrassment, concern, and confusion rained on her. A shudder of an exhale parted open dry lips.

What was that all about? His warnings, despite her trusting him, still failed to be properly discerned by her brain. It was as if something dangerous lurking around her, but Lumine could not find the reason why. For all she knew, she was one of the people in Liyue Harbor, or perhaps in Liyue, that held no worth for burglary. Or—

Is there going to be a big fight or something?

Or did he just purely concerned for her?

A laugh escaped her lips.

Come on, Lumine. Don't be silly.

Surely, there was something bigger than just that. A Fatui matter, he had confirmed, or perhaps it was something related to why he was drenched in blood yesterday. Maybe it was a lie all along and he just said that because he knew Lumine would not ask further about Fatui matter. It could be something else entirely, really, something far beyond her knowledge.

Lumine blinked.

Right…

Except for few small things, she knew nothing about him.

A deep inhale and a slow exhale. Lumine scattered away those ideas, taking in a diminished echo of last note from the recorder before it whirred. She dragged herself back to the table, sat on the stool, and fished out the breakfast—itwasfisherman's toast—and ate it slowly.

Everything else was tuned out of her, pushed away from her for the next moment, hours of it until something of deep scarlet color entered her sight. A bead of blood was budding at the tip of her finger while her other hand was now handling a scissor to cut the wrapping paper for a small bouquet of ranunculus.

Several blinks then all finally returned to her. A glance to the table showed her the absence of an oily paper bag and lone cup no longer wafting out hazy steam. Sweeping to the counter sat a bouquet of white flowers with several small purple flowers tied with black ribbon. Then back at what present in front of her; unfinished mini bouquets of ranunculuses, sweet peas, and irises.

And at the blood.

"Not good, Lumine," she hissed at herself as she dragged her heavy legs to the sink, "you need to stop zoning out while working."

The water flowing to the drain was pink in color as blood continued to pour from the new wound. The cut was a tad bit deeper than the usual and it stung. But it finally brought up something she had been missing since earlier this morning.

The blood, the petals, and the cough; Lumine did not have them this morning. That must be the reason for the oddity she felt on her waking. After days of pushed awake by the rough cough, it felt undoubtedly weird to one day waking up to nothing.

The medicine, Lumine thought to herself, did it work on her? Or was it just her luck? A coincidence?

With a paper towel pressed against the wound, leaving a damp pink spot there, Lumine struggled to tear open a band-aid plaster with one hand. The spot became red when she pulled the damp paper towel away and there was a small smear of blood sitting on her finger already. Lumine wrapped the plaster around her finger, hissing a little at the sting when she accidentally pressed it and hoping that the blood would stop with it.

Even if she did not cough, it seemed she still need to have her daily dose of seeing blood, huh?

Stupid disease.

The bell rang when Lumine was throwing away the paper towel and scraps of plaster package. Her greeting came out too weak when she saw two people coming in. Together with Verr Goldet, whose visit was expected, was Zhongli.

Lumine swallowed thickly.

"Miss Goldet," Lumine called, walking to the counter and clicked a button to turn off the recorder, "your bouquet is ready."

The woman excused herself from Zhongli, cutting their chat early, walked to the counter, and picked it up. "I'm sorry for the abrupt order, Lumine," she said.

Golden eyes strayed a little from Verr Goldet's figure to see past her, to watch as the man stood in front of the wall full of dried flowers. A hand rested on his chin with a relaxed posture and his gaze became soft as he silently stared at them.

"It's alright, miss," Lumine said, eyes returned to focus on her and she offered a small smile. "I'm sorry for the loss."

And it felt weird how those words that she hated so much could roll out of her tongue so easily. It felt nothing like a genuine sympathy and more like a lip service, which Lumine felt apologetic at, but there was nothing more she could do to make it sounded more genuine.

But perhaps Verr Goldet did not notice it as she thanked her, still. "Thank you. It's not any of my relatives, but I treat my guests at Wangshu Inn like a family, so…"

Lumine quirked an eyebrow. "Guests?"

"A family of three from Fontaine," Verr Goldet nodded, "they have been a regular at our inn. They have been staying since last Saturday for a vacation while the husband was in Liyue for business-related work. He was a big merchant."

"Was it… an accident?" Lumine asked hesitantly, wondering if she was allowed to ask such a thing.

To her surprise, the woman elaborated. "We tried to make it look like that as per the wife's request," Verr Goldet leaned to Lumine for a whisper, "but honestly, it was… something else."

"Something else?" Lumine could only imagine one thing if it involved a big merchant from abroad.

"This is between us, Lumine, because if words spread, it won't be good," the woman said and Lumine did not have any other reason to refuse. "It was an assassination of the husband."

Lumine stilled. Her hand hovered mid-air before it could reach the cash register as it sunk deep in her. She had expected if that would be the case, but hearing it was true still send shivers down her spine.

"Assassination?" she breathed the word in a hush. How could she be so sure?

"The couple's daughter saw the culprit was wearing a mask, but it was dark so she couldn't tell anything else besides it had red color and it was a 'scary-looking with pointy edges' mask."

Chills ran down her spine. If it was indeed an assassination, then whoever hired them must be coming from an influential person. A rival, maybe? Or personal grudge? There were too many possibilities when it came to a big merchant's killing case.

"I hope… it can be solved soon," Lumine did not know anything else to say.

"I hope so too," Verr Goldet agreed. "Although I heard from the Millelith that the assassin came from the Fatui part so the investigation might face a wall sooner or later."

Fatui. Her eyes widened the moment Lumine heard the name and she stilled. The way Verr Goldet's eyes narrowed did not seem like it was a joke. It was, indeed, grave news, and the fact that it took place at Liyue's most famous inn must be the worst thing possible for the newly-wed couple who owned it.

Lumine could understand why Verr Goldet wanted her to keep it strictly between them—the reputation of the inn was at stake if this news spread. Yet would not it be better if she kept it for herself and not telling Lumine anything?

So why telling her?

Maybe her confusion was that obvious because, then, the woman whispered again. "That man with blue eyes that I saw two weeks ago; he is one of them, right?"

Ah…

Her hand grasped Lumine's and she contained a flinch at the sudden contact. "I know that he's one of your regulars, Lumine. But… please don't get involved with him too much."

Too late.

Lumine wanted to laugh—it was already too late. She had been involved with Childe since a month ago, way before she realized who he was, and even feigned ignorance about his status all this time. Yet deep down, she knew about that. Deep down, Lumine realized how she should not be forming any kind of connection with him because it was just as he said—he was a bad guy while she was a kind person, anormalperson.

Still, most of her believed in him who never did anything out of the boundary. There was a distance between them ever since the first time he came to visit her. Though, lately, it had been reduced to almost nothing.

Maybe Lumine was being stupid and naive because of her feelings, maybe she was already blinded by it.

"I know I shouldn't say anything about this as I'm no one but your client and you no longer need a guardian," the hold around her hand tightened and Lumine let her eyes fell on their connected hand, "but… just take this as a warning from a woman to another, okay? I just want you to be safe."

Lumine nodded and offered her a smile in the hope it became something like reassurance for her. "Thank you, Miss Goldet. I'll keep that in mind."

The woman returned her smile, paid for the bouquet, and left the shop after one last quick chat with Zhongli. And then, it was just her and him there.

She knew why he was here, and that was not for buying glaze lilies. Golden eyes lingered on his figure, in which he turned to her after another moment of quiet gaze at the hanging flowers.

"Mister Zhongli," she greeted rather stiffly, "please have a seat."

Lumine wished today would just end already.

"Tartaglia, you're late."

Within that room, that man was the last person he expected to see in this assembly. The other seats were empty except for one occupied by him, and he wondered ifhewas late. Childe opted to ignore his remark and sat across him wordlessly.

The man, dressed in dark Inazuma's traditional attire, shifted from leaning back to the chair into resting his jaw on an open palm. A smile was drawn out from nothing and light indigo eyes glinted in amusement. "Back from visiting firefly, huh?"

Ocean eyes narrowed sharply at the voice. Ridicule embedded deep in that sentence, and Childe knew how he barely bothered to mask it. So he was still here?

"And you're supposed to be off to Inazuma, Scaramouche," he bit back a growl at the mention of his alias. Childe knew better than to fall for his bait.

The man laughed. "Not yet. In fact, it got postponed and I know you know the reason why."

"It's not a failure," he hissed, "and I don't need surveillance."

"But itisa failure. Or are you dare to defy our Lady's words?"

When Childe did not answer, the other Harbinger rose from his seat and approached him. "You're lucky, Tartaglia because our Lady gives you another chance to redeem your stupid mistake."

Childe was lucky. Of course. Failure could only mean death and the fact that he was still breathing now was just because he was at the mercy of the Lady.

"One chance left, Tartaglia," Scaramouche's voice echoed deep in his ears and how he wished he could rip that smirk off his face, "or else your firefly will no longer fly."

For the first time, Childe wished he had never met her.

Notes:

hello! it's been... more than 3 weeks... the only thing that can explain this late update is a drop of massive writer's block. i thank you for being patient with me and i'm sorry for the long delay! also i want to thank everyone who made art for this fic... they're all so beautiful and i'm always at loss for words whenever i see them. maddie, myraa, chleb, and cloudy, i love you all so much i don't deserve your beautiful arts (･ᴗ･ )

for those who was panicking over my april fools tweet, i hope you all forgive me with this update. anyway, constructive criticisms are always welcome and kudos and comments always motivates me to write and fight the block! thank you for reading and i'll see you in the future update!

find me on twitter xxccxy

Chapter 10: crocus

Summary:

Lumine hoped too much, even when she knew she should not.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter fornotes.)

Chapter Text

Lumine cradled the first crack of blue sky with a gaze heavy in austere silence.

The rain had stopped pouring and grey clouds were scattered by one last breath of wind. Pale yellow sunlight filtered into the shop with laughter from a group of children running across the wet street drifted to her and faded. Her grip on the gossamer curtain loosened and for a moment, Lumine was forgotten that she was not alone.

Because everything was as tranquil as it could be, as serene and light as it was when Aether was there—him standing in front of the shop just as the rain stopped, with long blonde hair danced with the wind and a smile when he noticed her looking his way from the window.

Lumine's lips formed a small smile, one that quickly gone once she saw nothing but an empty street in the place of her smiling brother. That fleeting memory hit her then dissolved into a profound sense of reality that came hitting like a deep prickle against her skin, rebuilding the realization once lost in a daydream. She turned away, golden eyes carefully avoiding the figure sitting with his back facing her, and focused them on the empty stool across him.

A stray thought like a filmstrip developed into flashes of a moving phantom image; of how Aether was occupying the other stool, looking at the man with affection masked with curiosity and innocent interest. One blink followed with a shallow breath hitched in her chest and it was now an empty stool again. The man's figure became harder to ignore now.

Weight fell like a brick to her shoulders, whispering things she would rather forget, reeling in memories like a slow backtrack across still time. Her effort of keeping them at bay shattered and Lumine was left with no other choice but remembering them.

Zhongli's apology, her outburst, Aether's letter for Zhongli, Zhongli's offer of removing the flower, and the medicine.

The medicine—he was undoubtedly here for that reason.

Noisy silence overtook the low hum of cooler and ticking seconds of the clock. A muffled rumble, leftover thunder from sunshower-turned-rain, poked her then died as her heavy footfalls interrupted the silence. Amidst it all, another meander thought—a plea, really—of how today should just come to an end swirled in and out of the periphery of her mind.

(It's impossible, my dear.)

Of course, it was impossible.

After all, time was merciless to her. It marched on unperturbed when things fell to the notion of her illness yet it stayed in the prolonged seconds when she desperately wanted it gone. Like now, for example. Like today.

Tuesday no longer tasted like a good wake-up caffeine shot or felt like a gentle morning breeze evoking tender memories of Aether in the white shirt and dirtied brown capri pants. It no longer carried the meager recollection of the gentleness of Aether'a sunshine smile or his crisp morning greeting after one day of break.

No.

Today's Tuesday tasted more like burnt tobacco at the back of her throat and felt like a misplaced acupuncture needle. It reeled in a weird sensation to her, a mixture of itchy fidget and persistent lethargy. Amidst them, words of warnings settled on her, weighing heavier than they should, piercing deeper, harder, and perhaps tangling themselves with her flowers; like an ivy wrapping around her chest.

She would be lying if those warnings did not invite weird ideas to pop in her head. With Childe behaving differently and Verr Goldet's story and suggestion, it was hard to stop a whole picture from forming.

(Of how Childe was somehow related with the incident in the Wangshu Inn, of how she would be pulled into something big if she kept holding onto him.)

Then again, ignorance was bliss. Perhaps if Lumine could just listen and stop overthink them, then everything might be just as fine as it would be on any other day.

Even if it meant she was overlooking things.

Even if she might regret it much time later.

Now Lumine only wished she could brush the fidgets away, wished she could stop rubbing the hem of her apron with restless fingers as she walked unsteadily from the window to the messy workstation. Yet once she managed to, an odd itch broke from where the cuts on her upper arm were and the urge to scratch them—to re-open them, to add more of them—was immense.

She insisted that it was just a ghost sensation resulted from the quiet gaze that followed her stiff movement of placing unused sweet peas and irises back to the glass container. Or maybe it was simply because she did not tend those cuts properly today—another injury she neglected. Lumine did not feel apologetic about it in the slightest; injuries would heal sooner or later, even without her tending to it.

(Or, honestly speaking, Lumine simply did not have the energy to deal with them.)

The man sitting behind the wooden table, whose solemn yet lingering gaze seemed to be focused on her awkward movement, was just one of her regulars a week ago, a person she found to be dearly beloved by her brother a couple of days ago, and some kind of a hope to end her illness starting from yesterday.

Lumine could take in the first two ideas, even with a bit of difficulty particularly on the second one, but the last one was unable to sit well in her.

Because the moment reluctant eyes focused on dainty sweet peas, the second she dragged heavy glance away from the flower to the scissor with a speck of blood sticking on its blade, it all crashed into her; the trace of heaviness left from yesterday's meeting, the uncertain tilt of imaginary scale weighing hatred and acceptance towards Zhongli.

(He killed Aether.)

Again, that noisy voice.

…Shut up.

She did not want to think about it. At least just for today. At least until she could properly let everything from yesterday sunk into her head. At least until she could no longer felt suffocated by them all.

Zhongli's visit today was quite unexpected. It was not unwelcome, per se, as he did tell her that he would observe the development after she took the medicine. It just that Lumine never expected that he meant he would go and see her himself the day after.

Still, it was too soon, she thought. Meeting Zhongli today was too soon because everything she discovered yesterday—her feelings about him and everything about Aether—was yet to be sorted out. There was a limit as to how much information she could take in in one day, and after everything that happened yesterday, Lumine could barely walk past Aether's letter for him. The rest was still staying afloat, and with what happened following that day and earlier today, she wondered if today she could take more news leaning toward the bad kind than the good ones.

A weight lingered within her, along with the itch and fidget, along with the resurfacing memories of Zhongli's "It is within my capability to arrange a surgery to remove the flower" and "Perhaps, I only want to be forgiven for this failure". Lumine remembered how she replied to him with "I can't forgive you yet" and "I don't want to hate you", yet both of them sounded almost like something to convince herself instead to reply to him.

There were cracks, tiny cracks inside her because the pain she held against him was still raw yet she felt bad for feeling that way. Lumine barely gathered herself, barely put things in its place, and she could feel herself drowning in her own thoughts and feelings.

Too much—everything was too much for her and more than those, she would be bursting.

Lumine wished she could cut this unscheduled meeting short. Maybe she could, for Lumine felt nothing changed after consuming the medicine except for the lack of cough and petals this morning, which was a good thing for her. Maybe the medicine worked after all, and maybe if things stayed the same then she could continue consuming it. Then again, it would be a big question since the medicine was meant to suppress the flower's growth and not fully make it disappear.

Was she hoping for the impossible to happen?

It's already a miracle that the medicine works…

She should not ask for more, should not be greedy; nothing good ever came to her when she let her greed overtook her.

The glass container in her hold, now filled with flowers for the mini bouquet, almost slipped when pain shot through her as she put too much pressure on her injured leg. A small hiss escaped her before she could stop it, but what surprised her more was the presence of the man standing next to her, carefully securing her as she staggered.

Eyes flew to meet his placid ones—a striking contrast with hers that displayed too much surprise from what she allowed herself. That gaze reminded her of how Zhongli looked at her yesterday as they talked, as Lumine gathered every bits and piece of herself amidst sad reminisce of Aether and everything that was left of him within his diary.

Those eyes; they were too gentle, too kind.

Would it make her a despicable person if she hated him?

They shifted, breaking away from hers to glance at the bandage before amber met gold again. And in those pools, swam both concern and unspoken questions that Lumine wished she did not notice.

"Let me help you," he said and Lumine was too distracted with her own thoughts to refuse him.

Zhongli took the container, placed it back on the workstation, and guided her to the wooden stool wordlessly, with her dragging and lagging on every beat passed. As she took her seat there, Zhongli walked away with the glass container, disappearing into the storage room, and just then Lumine realized something.

He knew where she stored her flowers despite never telling him anything about it.

"You're familiar with this shop," Lumine said when he returned to sit across her, occupying the chair that would be filled with Childe on any day that was not today.

Zhongli looked at her, capturing her wary gaze then nodded slowly, "I am."

And it should not be a surprise to her because she could picture it clearly in her mind; the way Zhongli spent his time talking with Aether during her absence in Liyue. If what Zhongli said about him taking care of a pair of siblings—them—was true, then it would not be a wonder if he helped Aether once in a while.

Though, she doubted that once was enough for Zhongli to be familiar with this place. Maybe quite frequent. Maybe enough times to make Aether fell deeper for him, the same way a certain man did that made her fall deeper for him.

Then again, Lumine knew nothing about this man besides how Aether described him and how she perceived him each time he came to the shop.

Nothing much was known about him.

Lumine bit her inner cheek, forcing the train of thought to a halt, and pulled her wandering mind back to the right track. She needed to get through this quickly.

"Mister Zhongli, what–"

–is your business here?

But that was left unsaid, hanging, lost in the stifling air enveloping her. Not because it was hard to say, but more like she was asking the obvious and she knew it was pointless. But it was too late to let it slide, for Zhongli had his eyes on her, expecting and probing. Lumine swallowed hard and continued, "Would you like to drink?"

The last word fell flat and Lumine felt stupid for asking. Even if she was stubborn enough with the hospitality, with how she could barely stand straight without flinching at the pain, it would be a chore to serve him. She should not have said anything; it was always a stupid remark that came from her.

However, to her surprise, Zhongli shook his head. "I am fine, Lumine."

"But–"

"I do not wish to trouble you."

"It's no trouble, it's–"

(Yes, it is.)

Archon, shut up.

"–a basic courtesy," Lumine insisted, rejecting the noisy voice immediately then wondered why to bother on insisting being polite when she just wanted him to finish his business with her quickly and leave.

Perhaps Zhongli captured her distress, or maybe he did it out of kindness and consideration to her injury because the man shook his head again. "It is fine."

To that, Lumine nod then cursed at herself for beating around the bush when she needed nothing more than a quick closure between them. She needed some more quiet moment for herself, more time alone to collect and sort every scattered thought in her head. And this was anything but something that could speed up their meeting.

Her hands moved to reach the cup previously filled with bitter coffee. The coldness crept to her hot palms, soothing palpitating heartbeats and easing the crawling itch underneath her skin while she crossed her legs and straightened her posture.

For some reason, she had an inkling that this meeting would not go as she wished.

Nothing ever has.

"There is no need for you to be so formal with me," he added and Lumine thought if Zhongli noticed her nervousness masked with a false display of a collected countenance. She was certain he did, but then he added, "Please just address me by my name."

To this, Lumine halted an inhale, eyes widened slightly, and had her grip around the cup tightened. The silent question of "why?" swirled in the two pools of molten gold, pronounced more in one furrow of eyebrows, then vanished after one blink.

As if he caught that, Zhongli replied, "I wish for you to be at ease around me."

Lumine felt like laughing at that.

To be at ease? To be comfortable around him?

It almost sounded ridiculous.

Because Lumine knew she would not be able to feel that way when all she wanted was to avoid him, to put more distance between him and her, to boldly pronounce that he and her better mind their own business. After all, the bitterness was still embedded deep inside her, the whole thing about him and his relationship with Aether still suffocated her.

But she knew that she could not do that. With her depending on him for the medicine, Lumine knew better than shutting him out if she wanted to keep consuming it. Aether would not want her to hold something against him too. He would not want her to blame him—he would want her to start accepting the reality rather than pretending everything about her was fine when she was actually falling apart.

So, she endured. Lumine could not afford to be selfish if she wanted to respect Aether's wish.

(But can you do it, Lumine? Even if–)

Even if it felt like she was rubbing salt to her own raw wound.

"Alright," she ignored the sharp pang, "Zhongli."

The name came out in a whisper, felt foreign on her tongue, and tasted bland if not bitter. Lumine breathed out shakily, trying to ease herself because ithurt.

The man across her smiled at it, at her, with a gaze that softened at its ring. Amidst that, a sense of gentle melancholy ran past him; as if the two syllables brought up memories long forgotten and weaved them into a meadow of reminiscence. Lumine was sure that Aether's figure was ought to be somewhere among those memories, perhaps sitting in this very space dated a few weeks back with a warm, gentle smile of his own.

She wondered if Zhongli saw Aether in her.

"Did my brother call you that way?" she asked quietly. Fingers drumming restlessly on the cup and eyes broke their locked gaze to fall on the brown stain inside the cup, residue of the bitterness that now spreading inside her mouth. Her lips quivered ever so slightly. "Did he?"

Lumine could picture it clearly—Aether with a faint blush dusted on his cheek, walking toward him with a slight skip in his steps, with bright sparkles in his vivid honey-colored eyes, calling him in such an endearing way; the way an innocent, lovestruck young man would to his beloved.

A hopeless musing of how he would still be here now if only his feelings were requited crashed her. That, or if he fell for someone else that was not Zhongli.

Her fingers stopped moving, nails now digging on the skin of the back of her hand, creating crescents and covering the acute sting and heaviness nestled on her shoulders as the idea spiraled further into her. She took a quick inhale then spoke hurriedly. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked–"

"He did not."

Lumine lifted her head to see a flash of pang ran past him and disappeared behind a front of small smile and soft eyes staring at her. It could be because of her surprised look that Zhongli let out a soft chuckle and let the melancholy evaporated into thin air.

"He did not," he repeated and Lumine found the low rumble of his voice to be heavy somehow, a contrast to his small smile, "for Aether was adamant on using an honorific to address me."

Her eyes stared blankly at Zhongli for a moment. Then, again, she broke their contact to focus on anything else that did not involve his gaze; dragged them away from him to the wet pavement outside the window, to the light grey clouds hanging in the sky, then back to him but not seeing him. In her mind's eye, she was gazing at a nonexistent scene of a smiling Aether handing Zhongli a bouquet of glaze lilies.

Lumine bit her lips.

Of all people, why did it have to be Zhongli?

"I see," her reply came in a weak laugh, followed by a couple of blinks, lowered eyelids, and a lump forming somewhere in her chest.

Everything fell away, then. Together with the disappearance of her voice, silence once again ate away the stillness between them. Time felt as though it was caught in the repertoire of ten seconds or lost in the lengthened milliseconds. The lack of words exchanged between them now felt like a frantic attempt of faking a tranquil moment to Lumine.

It was suffocating. Even without the ivy crawling and ensnaring her, it felt suffocating for her. The idea of him knowing more about Aether, becoming close with him during her stay in Mondstadt, bothered her.

"Lumine, did something happen?"

Zhongli's voice cut through the abrupt thick silence hanging around them, bursting the bubble of intrusive thoughts, and ringing loudly in her ears. When she broke free from the sudden grip of reverie, Zhongli was staring at her with a heightened intensity of concern that did not show in his calm vestige. It was always the eyes.

Fingers interlaced, hands resting on the table, and Lumine fought the urge to fidget again under the silent scrutiny. "No, nothing happened."

She at least managed to say that without a stutter, a lie she wished she could pull out with more ease. But Lumine knew she fooled no one, for Zhongli's gaze deepened, with glints in his pupil spelling muted skepticism.

"How are you feeling?" Zhongli asked.

Her answer came in an automatic reply, "I'm fine."

"You are injured," he gave her a small frown.

"It's only a small sprain. I'll be fine in few days," or so she hoped because it started to annoy her as it limited her movement. "I took the medicine yesterday," she added, maybe to pull his interest away from the stupid sprain.

To her reply, Zhongli nodded as if already expecting that. "Did you experience discomfort afterward? Is there any nausea or dizziness?"

Lumine had a hard time sleeping, but it might not be caused by that. She also doubted the heaviness of her body was stemmed from that. No nausea, no dizziness, and besides her ankle and lack of sleep, she felt perfectly fine. She shook her head.

"I didn't cough this morning," she elaborated—no petals, no blood, no burning sensation anywhere inside her, "I haven't coughed any petals until now."

Not this morning and not even last night. The last time she coughed them out was on that noon, with eight petals, and she was almost got caught by Childe. A scrap of luck was on her side that time, perhaps a form of pity from her illness, so she safely avoided him knowing about it. Lumine wondered what kind of face would Childe make if he saw her coughing out petals.

Horrified? Concerned?

You, Lumine, are being delusional.

She shoved the thoughts all the way to the back of her head. With everything a floating mess in her head, she did not need more reminders of all of these hopeless feelings.

"Does that mean… the medicine works with me?" she asked after a beat passed.

She hoped so. Lumine really hoped that was the case and not thehanahakiplaying stupid games with her because it was far from an amusing one.

Zhongli crossed his legs, a hand brought to his chin accompanied with a small thoughtful hum. The way those amber eyes narrow as he mulled over his answer brought a clench to her stomach. And that clench tightened together with his next words.

"I am afraid it would be a premature conclusion," he spoke grimly as if those words were heavier to him than her. "However the lack of negative side effect is a good sign."

Lumine swallowed a lump in her throat. It moved to her chest, adding more weight to what already present there, and pushed her into pronouncing the discomfort of uncertainty with a shaky voice as she replied, "Is that so?"

Zhongli nodded gently. If he noticed her distress, then he did not show it—his eyes were as calm as they were probing the details within her countenance. "I reckon to wait and see if this condition stays consistent for some more days to properly draw the conclusion."

A silent nod replied his answer. Somehow, it was enough for her. As long as she could continue consuming that medicine, anything was enough.

"Lumine, the medicine cannot curehanahaki," Zhongli spoke as if knowing what was swirling inside her head, with a deep tone served as a reminder more than a caution.

"I know," she smiled thinly, gaze fell once again to the empty cup to draw a hazy picture of flowers out of brown coffee stain inside. "But I want to hope."

She just wanted to hope; that the medicine worked on her so she could live for some more time to indulge in her one-sided feelings and Childe's kindness. To bask in the sense of freedom he brought with him, to live with the memories of Childe until it was her timeout.

The crawl of an itch returned as she let him stare at her. Within it was a wave of pity mixed with concern, a ghost of a tap against her crumbling body. "Are you certain of your choice?"

The brown stain became a brown rose. It was a withering rose. "Which choice?" she asked absently.

And she could hear his frown in his reply. "Of not removing the flower."

Lumine chuckled lightly. The lackluster rose dissolved into an image of a smile given to her from Childe earlier today. It pulled in the sense of warmth bursting inside her when his thumb brushed her cheek, when he leaned his head to her palm, when he gazed at her before disappearing behind the door.

"I want to bet on this," her whisper carried a soft caress of yearning she did not realize it had and Lumine felt weak as more memories of him invaded her. "And I… don't want to forget him."

Because even if she knew how hopeless this feeling was, how it would forever stay as a one-sided longing that might continue to hurt her, Lumine did not want to forget it. It was so stupid of hers, so foolishly selfish and blind, yet if she could not have him, then at least she wanted to keep and cherish those memories of him.

Forgetting Childe felt like a greater punishment than herhanahakiand losing the ability to love was an even greater punishment. Lumine depended greatly on her feelings and attachment to him and if she were lost them, then what would be left of her if not regret and guilt over losing Aether?

"It's okay, I'll be fine without the surgery," she said again to Zhongli, but it sounded more like an attempt of convincing herself to her ears.

She knew full well the degree of danger this stupid illness had on her, knew that she was racing against her own countdown, acknowledged that unless she chose surgery, there might be no other way on saving her.

Lumine knew that.

Unfortunately, she was as stubborn as Aether was, and honestly speaking, the idea of dying and being reunited with Aether afterward did not sound so bad. However, knowing him and his wish for Zhongli to take care of her, Aether would be sad if he knew she wasted her life away.

(The exact same reason why she failed to drown herself in that one early morning weeks ago.)

Lumine stole a glance at Zhongli upon realizing that he said nothing to that. The silence was once again flowing thick around them and she wondered if Zhongli had anything more to discuss with her. She hoped that was not the case, hoped that it was enough to know about her condition today and he would leave.

The brown stain was staring at her when she finally pulled herself away from the intangible mess of her thoughts. Surely, Zhongli's visit here has reached its goal for he had known of her condition as of now and it was Lumine who wanted this all to finish quickly.

But she could not help it.

"Did you know?" Lumine bit her dry lips, eyes strayed from the stain to jump back into those tranquil amber pools. "That Childe likes you the way my brother did?"

Zhongli did not flinch, not even batting an eye as he answered, "I do."

He did, she repeated the words inwardly. Of course, he did. Maybe he also knew that Childe was a part of the Fatui but chose not to think much about it. Honestly, it would not be a surprise if he knew.

"But you don't," she said again. "And you choose to pretend not knowing," she continued. The sentence sounded more like a statement than a question.

Again; no hesitation. "Yes."

"How cruel," Lumine whispered, smiling in irony mixed with a dash of disbelief. "I never know you're such a cruel person."

"It might be cruel for some, but it is for the best, I believe," his fingers interlaced again, resting on the table, a gesture that never broke his effortless elegance and poise. "And I do realize that this is the reason for yourhanahaki."

Amber eyes gazed at her briefly before they were hidden by his hair falling across his face at the incline of his head. "I am not going to ask for more forgiveness. However, please know that I regret this deeply."

To that, Lumine only stared openly at him. Lips parted slightly with nothing rolling out of it as words were caught at the base of her tongue and melted away. She pursed her lips, eyes brushed a fleeting glance at his bow. The scale inside her tipped away from hatred.

She had no more energy left to hate Zhongli.

After all, herhanahakiwas not something he could control even if he indirectly took a part in the reason why she had it.

It was not Zhongli's fault.

"It's not your fault. Nothing about me having thishanahakiis ever your fault, so there's no need for you to apologize."

It was purely this stupid illness's fault.

And her own fault as well.

"Maybe it's just my fate," she laughed softly, weakly. One hand was stretched across the table to brush lightly on the back of his hand. She did not know why she did it, but it was cold to the touch and somewhat calming. "But can you tell me why?"

Why chose to pretend. Why chose not to say anything to him. Why letting Childe hope even when he knew it was a cruel thing.

"Are you afraid that what happened to my brother would happen to Childe if you reject him?" Lumine asked again and there was a flinch she failed to catch.

"I am afraid… that is not the case," Zhongli lifted his head, meeting her eyes again and for the first time Lumine saw conflict swirling inside those orbs.

She whispered. "Then why?"

Zhongli took in her hand, letting it rest on his open palm. Amber eyes narrowing in a way that was spelling heavy thoughts and, perhaps, unwanted remembrance. They faltered for the briefest of a moment together with one slow blink, together with the answer to her question.

"I have come to enjoy his company and it would be a lie to say that I dislike him as a person. However," a pause, a waver in his voice, a low drop to something bordering gentleness and sadness, "romantical love is a luxury which I have lost some years ago."

Lumine blinked at that, at his light tone that betrayed the weight of his words, at the last few words said before silence engulfed them. She took in the barest of a smile in his profile, his glance that was looking her way but not looking at her at the same time; a gaze directed to somewhere beyond her. However, she could not shake the feeling that instead of looking at something, he was lookingforsomething.

Or maybe for someone.

Ah…

"Yet all that is broken shall be mended," Zhongli continued as he stood, hiding amber eyes behind the drop of pale eyelids, while Lumine wondered if he felt as calm as his voice sounded to her, "and all that is lost shall be found. Fortunately, Lumine, love comes in many shapes and forms."

Lumine blinked again at his words. This time, it was in a full understanding.

So he used to have it too…

The next few exchanges between them before he left her shop—involving things about how it had come to the lunchtime, his words of "Please have this dish for your lunch, if you will", and him telling her that he would visit her again tomorrow—were quick to disappear. As the end of merry jingles of the bell drifted away, space was filled with another repugnant silence all around her.

Lumine stared unblinking at the bowl filled with bamboo shoot soup; the same dish Childe gave her days ago, the same dish Aether gave her years ago back in the orphanage.

It took Lumine no time to string things together as she took a bite and memories of her and Aether eating the dish happily came to the surface—Zhongli used to havehanahakiand it was seemingly for this Lady Guizhong mentioned in Aether's diary, for whatever reason Lumine would rather not to tap into.

That must be why he knew so much abouthanahaki. That must be also why he did not know anything about her, about Lady Guizhong when Lumine asked him—because he had forgotten all about her together with the removal of his flower—and why he could not return Aether's feelings even if he wanted to and, perhaps, Childe's too.

That must be why he could recognize herhanahakiso easily; because he had experienced it firsthand and also why he persuaded her onto taking the surgery so strongly. Zhongli could not afford to lose someone else to this illness and to break another promise at the same time.

Everything made sense now. Bitterly so.

And now Lumine could not help but imagine his reaction upon receiving Aether's letter after his death, upon knowing Aether had the same illness as his, upon learning thathewas the cause of Aether's death, upon regretting he was unable to save Aether when he knew hecouldand heshould, perhaps, out of guilt and a deep-rooted sense of responsibility.

Those smudged lines… those tear stains in Aether's letter to him…

It must be Zhongli's.

She bit her lip and remembered how she met him at Aether's grave on that one rainy morning when all noises faded into the rain hitting black umbrella. When Zhongli said he often came to visit him, was it to deliver a plea for Aether's forgiveness? Were those glaze lilies he bought from her,Aether'sshop, always ended up resting on the ground in front of his tombstone?

How did one continue living even with so much regret and guilt?

Love, Zhongli said, came in many forms and shapes. If she took the surgery and lost her ability to feel romantic love, would she be satisfied with the other form of love?

Or was it better to live without that, after all?

Haa–

It all had become one big misty thought now, a mesh of all unrelated thoughts dragging on an equally cluttered, crumbly mind, hanging on one loose gauze of a red thread. Amidst that, the heavy sigh she let out mingled with the steam from the soup in front of her. It was as delicious as it was tasteless.

Perhaps Lumine burned her tongue in her reluctance of consuming more of it, perhaps she saw little Aether sitting across her eating the same dish, perhaps forgiving Zhongli would be easier now that she knew.

The dish was finished in the stretch of an hour and Lumine was back from washing the earthen bowl in the kitchen when she returned to the shop area to see a boy—a young man?—standing in front of the counter. His gaze focused on the dried flowers before noticing her presence.

"Hi!"

Lumine concealed a confused blink at the chirpy greet. She hastily wore her apron and return the greet in one precise beat later.

"Welcome," Lumine said and it sounded like a meek statement rather than a pleasant greet, "is there anything I can help you with?"

He was a new customer, maybe a new face around this part of the city, or perhaps a visiting foreigner if she considered the clothes he used; traditional clothes from Inazuma. He looked younger than her with a somewhat small figure, but with a rather ambiguous air around him.

The young man smiled at her, the corner of his eyes formed a subtle crinkle. "I'm wondering if you have red spider lilies. Just one will do."

Red spider lilies?

Lumine shook her head promptly.

"I'm sorry but we don't have it here," because that flower was an uncommon one even in its homeland Inazuma, so to look for it in Liyue was bound to be a disappointment.

Surely if he did come from Inazuma he should know about it, no?

"Is that so?" he brought a hand to his chin. "I was told that I can find one here. What a shame."

The apologetic smile she gave him felt strained somehow like it was about to fall off any second. Maybe Childe was right—she needed to close the shop early and rest. With her head full of both old and new information, Lumine was surprised it did not burst already.

Although, hopefully, she could still hold on until this one customer finished his business here. Lumine would have to decline his order or move it to another day as she doubted she could make more bouquets today.

"–fly."

The ring faded too fast before Lumine could grab it. She found herself looking at him, tracing the outline of the young man's profile. "Pardon?"

A smile, a smirk was drawn with sapphire eyes peering at her and Lumine fought a shudder that almost broke under the strong gaze. He chuckled lightly and took a step toward her. The sound of his wooden sandal hitting the floor bounced with Lumine taking one step backward for each step he made. A wave of deja vu hit her—it had the same feeling as when Childe cornered her.

Her hips hit the workstation and one hand gripping tight its edge as to catch herself from falling from imbalanced footing. The young man stopped a good distance away from her, still within arm-reach, and a ring broke inside her head.

"A Fatui?" Lumine breathed out to which he laughed openly.

"You make it sounds like we are our own species,hotaru-chan," the sharp laughter brought out more of menace and a crooked smile, "But you're quite sharp for a mere civilian. I applaud you."

Her grip against the table grew tighter. Lumine doubted this man was anything similar to Childe; his harmless facade might be more dangerous than Childe's. One wrong move and she might end up killed.

"I believe that I have no business with the Fatui," she bit out an answer, heartbeat pounding loud in her ears, gut clenched tight.

As if amused, his smile widened yet those eyes pronounced the opposite, some kind of a curiosity tipping toward sadistic malice. "You don't. Yet. So here's a piece of advice for you,hotaru-chan."

The young man leaned in close to her, a hand slithering around her neck to play with her hair, mouth dangerously close to her ear that his voice rang loud and clear. Lumine drew a sharp breath.

"Don't try anything funny with us. You won't be the one who laughs at the end."

The young man then left, but not before saying, "I know what happened here yesterday, so you better keep that mouth shut."

The echoing ring of the bell barely registered in her as she let out shaky breaths and fought to keep herself from falling. She stared blankly at the closed door, at the empty shop, then at her trembling hands. They flew to her neck, rubbing the creeping sensation away to no avail.

What's going on..?

Feet teetered their way to the door to flip the sign close and locked the door then body slumped on the table, energy leaving her. A hand continued on rubbing her neck, her shoulder, her hair to ease the shudders that did not stop. Palpitating heart beating loudly in her ears, filling every nook and cranny, and it brought heaviness back to her. Lumine rested her head on the table, burying her face to one hand, and force herself to breathe slowly.

It was hard to calm herself, to hold back a cry, to shove away the wave of anxiety that suddenly gnawed her. A pound so loud on her head was enough to make her hiss in pain. It became a full-on headache, a relentless pounding that she knew could not be salvaged with the usual medicine.

Lumine needed to sleep, to return to her room and rest properly.

But her legs refused to move, rooted to the floor, and her body became heavier than how it was earlier when she woke up. Paired with the bothering tickling in her throat and the slithering ghost sensation around her neck, it was a miracle that she could stay conscious with a couple of gasps and a silent scream against her clammy palm.

Lumine was so tired.

So, very tired.

Tuesday should just end already. Herhanahakishould give her some break and that Harbinger better keep his words for she would never, evertry anything funny with them. Not with him, not with the other Fatui member, and not even with Childe.

Archon…

All she did was just accidentally fallen in love with him and he happened to be spending some of his time in her shop.

Is it really impossible, after all?

Because Lumine was actually hoping for more than what she had told Zhongli. More than just a hope for the medicine to work on her. More than just a hope that she could live with Childe's memory inside her.

Lumine hoped, and always been hoping, that someday, Childe would love her the way she loved him. And after knowing how Zhongli saw Childe, she could not help but be greedy.

That Childe would see her the way she saw him, even just for the briefest of a moment.

That one last thought flew out of her as consciousness left her. Sleep had never been so quick to take her away since she had herhanahaki. The yellow sunlight gradually shifted into orange. Her shadow grew taller, touching the wall decorated with dried flowers. The sky was painted in vermillion with a gradation of the deep blush of pink before darkness blanketed it all and scattering stars all over.

The moon was silent without sound. It was glowing pale in the sky. It was not too far nor it was too close. It was sound and gentle, always bidding a whisper of good night but watching some restless souls in their wake hidden by the shadows.

And tonight, it tapped to Lumine through the window. Moonlight spilled on the cold floor and nudged her into awakening. It should be a gentle rousing, however, what completely alarm her to the wakefulness was the sharp shriek that died immediately.

Her blurry eyes tried to adjust to the dim light of the shop area, tried to see the clock past the hazy sight. It was somewhere around 11 pm if her eyes did not play tricks on her. 11 pm and it surprised her as it finally sunk in her that she was sleeping for more than six hours straight.

Lumine barely remembered flicking off the lamps, yet it was dark when she woke up. Another power outage? But she could hear the low hum of the cooler for her flowers and the streetlamps were flickering dimly outside. She took her time to nurse her aching body, courtesy of a bad sleeping position, and the headache that was mostly gone already.

But that scream, did she imagine that?

A loud pound on her door made her wonder if she did not imagine or dream that after all. She pushed herself into standing, taking experimental small steps to ease her aching body. However before she could reach the door, the pounding stopped and the figure ran past her window and make his turn on the alley between her shop and an empty kiosk.

She would have ignored that—it could be a drunk person mistaking his house—but the idea was quick to be discarded, for Lumine saw another figure running past her window as if chasing the other person. That figure wore a grey jacket; something Lumine wished she was mistaken with, but the locks of dark orange flashed under the streetlamps blew away her hesitation.

Childe?

At this moment her memory decided to invade her, to fill her head with word upon word said by Childe that morning.

"Don't come out if you hear any loud noises or if anyone comes knocking afterward–"

It was… no coincidence, was it?

"Can you promise me that?"

She had promised him. It was a Fatui matter, truth or not. She should not dive into it, especially after that other Fatui warned her, after what Verr Goldet had told her as well.

It became a clear big picture to her—Childe was related to the incident in the Wangshu Inn. His appearance in front of her shop yesterday, with blood all over him, was because he did that.

Because he had killed that foreign merchant.

However before she could think more of that, her hand had pulled open the door and she made her way to the alley. It was a foolish decision on her part, but she just wanted to prove herself that she was wrong, that everything was just in her head, a fruit of her overthinking and unnecessary sense of anxiety.

One step into the alley and the next thing Lumine knew was a cold metal pressed against her neck with one rough hand keeping her in place. Together with that, came a harsh snarl, "Stay away, Fatui scum! Or she's dead!"

How many death threats had she received in the span of one day? Today was not her lucky day it seemed.

Lumine buckled, letting the sharp edge of the knife pierced her neck as she bit into the man's arm. Her feet brought her deeper into the alley as fast as they could, flinching at every step she made, before another hand caught her and twisted her body into a familiar touch and scent.

"You know it's futile to try escaping, buddy," came the familiar voice and everything finally fell in place to Lumine, "One step out of this alley and you'll be dead by my men out there."

The hand that gripped her on her shoulder stiffened when she looked up at him, at his masked face—Lumine could see the barest of the dark ocean through the small slits there. It was Childe.

"You bastard! Such a low act, Fatui, luring me here using that bitch," the other man spat. Under the flickering lamplight, Lumine could see him charging at them, with a knife in his hand, yet everything went dark—a hand covered her eyes and all Lumine heard was something piercing flesh, and a pained groan followed with a dull thud.

The hand across her eyes did not budge as she squirmed. "Take him away and return first. I'll deal with her."

And the command was answered with a uniform salutation, "Yes, sir!"

Lumine stilled. The leather glove felt foreign to her; as if it burned everything he touched, evoking uncomfortable crept around her neck again but Lumine could not get away from him, could not do anything impulsively. Not when she did not know how he would respond to her intrusion. Not when she could not convince herself that this was not a bad dream.

Heart once again drumming against the ribcage, echoing deep in her ears. Then everything finally sunk in her like an old film played in slow motion.

Did he just kill the man?

"Are you going to kill me as well?" she breathed out that question, thick in a mixture of surprise and fear, maybe with a hint of sadness as well. Her back faced him, his hand tight around her wrist and the other still covering her eyes. He could do anything to deal with her after witnessing a murder.

He said nothing, further emphasizing the heaviness that lingered around them it almost suffocating. Her voice trembled as she asked again, "Will you?"

There was a click of his tongue, then a swift shift from holding into lifting her the way he did that morning. Lumine held back a gasp, gripped his jacket tight around his shoulders, and avoided his eyes; avoided looking at his mask because she knew it was the very same one the daughter of the killed merchant had seen. It was all gut feeling, mere hunch, but once he took a step back into the shop and put her on the stool, they all became an unavoidable truth.

Familiar artificial lemon and stifling flower scent penetrated her; arousing dormant tickles against the throat, eliciting an urge to cough out something, a vomit of air or something of the sort. Amidst a desperate attempt of forcing those sensations away, another familiar tobacco scent brushed her.

So it's true..?

"Why?"

The question felt like the drop of a pin on a silent room; echoing, sonorant, restless. Her grip on his jacket tightened for a short moment then they fell to her side as he let her down on the stool. This time, he did not crouch, did not even trying to look her way.

The hang of her head was so low that she could only catch a glimpse of his shoes, golden hair shielding her frown before she gnawed on her lips as they trembled.

"Why?" she asked again, a question winded somewhere in her throat, a rasp.

"It's none of your business."

Of course. It was a Fatui matter after all. It was bound to be something out of her boundary.

"Did you… kill that merchant from Fontaine?" Because Lumine remembered him having some business at Wangshu Inn last Saturday night. And although he could be there for some other reason, the fact that the red mask was here hanging across his face was enough of proof already.

This was no dream.

"So what if I did?" he returned the question, making Lumine flinch in her seat at the sharp edge riding in that tone.

A hand touched her chin, tugging it up and she found him staring at her through the crevices of his mask. Lumine hated that red mask that looked like mocking her. Or maybe he did.

"Ojou-chan," Childe chuckled darkly, coldly, "didn't I tell you that I'm a bad guy?"

He did. Childe had told her that one time. But Lumine refused to believe it, her stubborn head rejected the idea that he was the bad person he said himself. Or maybe she acknowledged it deep down inside her. It just never occurred to her that he was capable of killing people.

"I also told you not to trust someone like me."

"…right," Lumine whispered, a breath caught in her throat before she let it out with a shudder, "you did."

Pathetic.

This was so pathetic. As much as she wanted to burst, there was actually nothing she could do besides averting her eyes away from those cold stares behind the mask.

"Then why keep coming here?"

They lived a different life, a different world. Their life should not cross, should not touch each other. But as if it was fate, he kept coming and she kept wanting despite she knew it would kill her in the end.

Yet it seemed that he never thought that way.

"A camouflage, of course," and that answer was so light yet it weighed like a ton to her. "For this particular night. Thanks for giving me a place to do some observation,ojou-chan."

She made a sharp, quiet intake of air. It was getting hard to breathe. "Just that?"

"What else?" he let go of her chin, shoved those gloved hands into his pocket, and walked to the door.

"Was it a lie when you said you like this place? When you said it gives you comfort?"

He stopped before the closed door, a hand lazily gripping its handle as Lumine stood and made her way to him. It was desperation that chased away the pain in her foot; an acute sense of disbelief mixed with grief and heartache. A small tug at the edge of his jacket, a silent plea of scanty hope that this was all lie.

Even so, he said nothing.

Childe, Childe…

Lumine chewed on her lips again, drawing out blood. Its taste was enough to bring up nausea to the surface and more prickles and harsh nudge into her chest. "Nothing… more?"

Did I ever exist in your world at all?

The man did not even glance back as he replied to her, "Nothing."

Then Childe was gone with that one last word. The door closed with dull blam and her one hand was still hovering in the air where it used to tug his jacket were. A laugh escaped her, but it sounded like a strangling instead. A chuckle like a snort, a smile like a cry.

So it's all lie?

Lumine could barely hold back a tear from falling. One became two, then it multiplied until everything became a blur and burned her eyes. Her throat itched, her chest constricted, and her choked sobs became a harsh cough that sent deep prickles all over her lungs. A sharp pain emerged from her neck; a wound from the knife barely registered to her until now and it had soiled her shirt with scarlet red.

Her hands frantically wiped away those tears, then covered her mouth to keep more coughs from spilling. But the more Lumine suppressed it, the harder it got that she had no other choice but to let it all out.

The coughs—they hurt.

Warmth spilled to her palm hovering over her mouth in order to ease her cough. It should not stay on her palm, but that warmth carried a sensation way too familiar for her to ignore.

Blurry golden eyes noticed deep red splattered on her hand. Lumine should be horrified, or perhaps she was too horrified that whatever reaction she had come out as a burst of weak laughter instead.

I should've known…

Blood pooled on her palm, falling to her shirt, trickling lazily from the corner of her mouth, and bile rose to her throat at the taste.

I hoped too much.

But it was just blood.

There were no blue petals there.

Lumine's eyes fluttered close. She leaned her burning forehead against the door and tried her best to breathe through the burn and acute jab of nonexistent needles spreading in her chest. Tears ran freely to her cheeks, gathering on her chin, then fell to bloodied shirt.

I shouldn't have hoped at all.

And just like that, Tuesday melted away from the mind heavy in lethargy and soul wishing to flicker off.

Notes:

rises from my grave*

hello, it's been a long time(• ω •)ﾉ i'm so sorry for the long delay, i have no excuse other than massive writer's block... this chapter is pretty long, so i hope it makes up for the lack of updates as of late. thank you for being so patient with me and for the support! i'll try to keep with my plan on updating this once every two weeks(„• ֊ •„) also, happy eid mubarak for those who celebrate it!

as usual, constructive criticisms are always welcome and kudos and comments always motivate me! i'll see you in the future chapter!

poem referred in this chapter:
The Paradox by Alfred Noyes, stanza XII

find me ontwitterandcuriouscat

Chapter 11: eglantine

Summary:

every wound is bound to heal, but hers are...

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter fornotes.)

Chapter Text

Lumine remembered drinking and stumbling over a chair.

It was somewhere around 3 am, a moment where the night ran on ambivalent tilt edging into dawn, sweet dandelion wine pumping in vein, and bitter nicotine stuck at the roof of mouth. There was a half-empty bottle of liquor casting absinthe hue to the kitchen counter and a dirty makeshift astray glinting under low light. Next to it, an empty wine glass sat idly, catching a figure walking away in its reflection—out of the kitchen and into the shop area.

When feet stepped into space, traces of what happened hours ago materialized in fleeting phantom figures; repeating a series of actions, eliciting unsightly feelings that ate away her inside. A flinch broke like one deep jab into the gut and the scene faded into the shadows of the unlit room. Those pair of molten gold orbs blinked, and there was nothing then.

Cloudy eyes were dragged away from the table with wilting pansies to the floor, and half a sigh brushed past her lips. So much for drinking in moderation. She could imagine Master Diluc frowning at her suppose he knew.

But she needed this.

This freedom.

Freedom of mind, at least, because physical freedom was something she could not afford and utterly out of her reach. Yet even with liquor pounding her head, memories seemed to refuse to go away. Or maybe she refused to let it go. Whichever it was, it did not change the fact that the wine had failed to do its duty of keeping them at bay.

A beat passed together with her walk to the door. Her shadow danced together with the dull ring of bell and flickers of orange light from a lampion hung at the closed store across. A soft click of lock permeated into her ears. Lumine's hand captured the coldness of the door handle before letting it go almost hesitantly. One last fleeting gaze cast on tremulous hand and then she turned away.

At the prolonged minutes filled with heavy steps trudging on the empty street, Lumine swore the air was hotter than it was back inside. And although she believed there would be nothing more than getting some fresh air to the stroll, somehow she ended up with legs dipped in saltwater and a beige knit sweater shivered from the cold ocean breeze. Hooded eyes framed in the glisten of ocean under the moonlight.

The scene was familiar and oddly nostalgic with a snap of bitterness gripping by its shore. It was both startling and not, like something that had happened yet failed to rekindle. Lumine felt as if she was revisiting a crude idea; crossing a boundary she set herself, rolling into an echo of motion across time.

Maybe this had actually happened somewhere previously.

Shrill drunken laughter pierced the still harbor, interrupting erratic heartbeats and occasional rumbles of waves crashing against docked boats. Everything was still a blob of mushy white in her head—a heavy mixture of reality muddled by intoxicating mirage—and Lumine took a step forward. The shift sparked a ripple and distorted her reflection in the water, bringing her a step closer to sobriety, but not enough to determine why hesitation swirled around her.

Then, she remembered—a couple of weeks after Aether's funeral, at 3 am, at the exact same place of a half-sunken dock close by a boat where Uncle Tian used for fishing. Even without fully understanding why she could easily guess that this time she might have the same reason and intention for standing there.

Yet as much as Lumine wished she could remember more of what happened after that or how she returned home with just one shoe, she could not help but somewhat regretting how she did not take more steps forward. Into the dark, into the depth; plunging far and deep into the sea and—

Poof.

—disappear.

(Brother will be sad, you know.)

He would—Lumine knew. Lumine also knew how she was not in the right mind. She knew, hence maybe that was why she did not take that one more step. Maybe that was why she was hesitating, even in the middle of a whim fueled by a heavy mixture of liquor, desperation, and lethargy.

Because Aether would be sad.

When woozy fizz in her head dissipated and the scent of tobacco no longer stuck in her hair, Lumine was back in her kitchen, watching the leftover thin smoke from crunched cigarettes flow like a dulcet river in a hazy waltz. She recalled a figure leaning against the door frame with similar mist enshrouding. Cold blue eyes and lackadaisical stare, but heavy, lonely shoulders. Childe's words from yesterday melted in her ears.

"Nothing."

Of course.

"Didn't I tell you that I'm a bad guy?"

He did.

"I also told you not to trust someone like me."

But how could she not place that trust when that someone was him? Lumine might be biased—she certainly did—but all the gestures and exchanges they did were not a set of delusions. They were not lies. Or at least that was how it felt to her because nothing was ever the same to him.

It just occurred to her that she had been hoping too much all this time, wishing for this grey relationship between them to stay as long as possible and foolishly pushing aside the obvious fact that they were not meant to be. There was Zhongli, but more than that, Childe was not an ordinary person by nature—he was way out of her grasp.

So, since when did Lumine start thinking she could be that ordinary person standing next to him?

What a fool.

Perhaps they were all honey and sugar for Lumine when they were burnt paper and heavy sigh for Childe. Perhaps Lumine should have listened to what her head said instead of letting her heart speak. That way, maybe she would not have to experience all this when she was already grieving too much for Aether's passing.

(For Lumine now had to grieve for herself too and she loathed the act with so much passion.)

If only she could hate him, then everything would be a lot easier for her. Herhanahakimight be cured as well for having fallen out of love. However, the fact that those petals were still tickling all over her chest, trying to crawl their way out of her, meant that either it could not be cured that way or she could not fall out of him. Both sounded like a double death sentence to her, something that Lumine would rather not know and mull over at the moment.

More than that, Lumine should be worried about another thing; the coughs.

They persisted.

Around 9 am, a good ten minutes after she finished sweeping the floor and was about to drink what remained of her coffee, the coughs escaped before she could hold them in. Ugly blotches of blood dripped down her lips, fell to her hands, slipping through thin fingers to land on her apron and the white floor. A sharp pain was all over her chest; a familiar burning sensation in each gasp she made.

It felt like coughing out petals again, except there was nothing more than blood and pained whimpers.

An unfolded paper pocket was crumpled in her hand, soaking in the blood from her skin, as she swallowed down the bitterness both from medicine and coffee mixed with a disgusting tangy taste. One deep inhale was accompanied with an acute sting and one shaky sigh slipped past her like a mockery for the powder medicine, although it was more likely directed at herself.

Her hand made a sluggish movement to wipe that trail of blood coming from the corner of her lips while she crouched and used her soiled apron to clean the blood on the floor. A brisk walk, ignoring the uncomfortable pressure on her injured ankle, brought her to the bathroom to fill a basin with water and powdered detergent. The bloodied apron was thrown there, soaking up soap water and empty stare as it sunk.

A weak, humorless laugh, despite her chest was screaming in protest at the sudden jerk of motion, tore away the quiescence hanging thick around her when she was back to the shop area. Lumine counted the two heavy sighs and five seconds of scorch searing her chest before a fleeting tight smile perched on pale lips.

What else she could do other than laughing it off?

Wednesday 11 am came in carrying a mash of artificial lemon scent, leftover wobbliness from the injured ankle, and whispers of Gymnopedie playing in an endless repertoire. The burning sensation had long gone together with hours passing her by like a breeze, but the weight, the knots, and lumps stayed in her chest. A handful of rose in hand; its nonexistent thorns dug into the skin.

It was Wednesday.

Wednesday, a few days away from the changing month, a flip of the calendar; six days since Aether's two months death anniversary. There was this odd feeling pulling in squeamish fidgets like something was left forgotten. Her effort to remember went in vain for at the moment, her head was a box of tangled yarn and cluttered trinkets—an intangible mess of both everything and nothing.

The idea, the uneasy feeling of forgetting something went on strong. But there were too many things that had happened in a week; things she would rather not remember, things she wished she could easily forget. This thing she was forgetting…

Something…

Something important, something that should be remembered but flew away.

What was it?

Her eyes skittered along the edge of the book set on the side. Fingers flipped through pages filled with scribbles made in a calendar template—boxes and columns, lines and cursive alphabets—then she stopped at today's date. The box with a small number dating today was empty.

Lumine was not forgetting orders made in advance. Other notes were made in few columns next to it, jotted down in 0.7 black marker that got smudged by yellow highlighter. Mondstadt's flowers she ordered from Flora would arrive on Friday and a stock of ranunculus on Saturday. Besides this one bouquet order that came in half an hour ago, she did not have anything else for today. So it was not about the shop.

Then was what it?

A snap from scissors cutting a stem had her waving away the feeling. Book closed and metal tool in hand, the red roses reminded her of the blood she coughed earlier. It wrung out a clench deep in the gut, a shudder ran along her skin, and bile rose to her throat.

No, no, hold it in.

The world spun for a second, filled with one loud ring only she could hear and a sudden loss of vision lasting for some heartbeats too long. When she came to, Lumine was holding onto the edge of the station, knees quivered, and roses had all fallen, scattered on the floor with its securing tape undone.

Her tongue clicked in both annoyance and slight regret. She should not have drunk too much and skipped the much-needed sleep. As much as she wanted to take a day off and rest, Lumine knew those memories from the other day would invade her as if begging to be remembered. Making herself busy was the safest bet to keep them off her—since wine only made her remember more—yet her body screamed in protest.

Maybe she should just sleep.

Forever. Escaping reality forever and hope it goes away when I wake up.

Unfortunately, it did not work that way.

With roses back in one hand and scissors once again cutting excess stem in another, her mind, for once, made peace for her.As it should,Lumine added inwardly because it was better to zone out as she worked than being drowned in those heavy matters.

What used to be a silent shop was now filled with the echo of rustling paper wrap folded around deep scarlet roses and tied with red and baby pink ribbons. When everything fell into another round of Gymnopedie, a merry jingle of the bell interrupted her walk back to the storage to store the remaining roses. When she returned, it was a familiar sight of long brown hair and glowing amber eyes that she saw.

Her hand balled into a fist that slowly unclenched to clean the workstation. Her"Welcome, please have a seat"came out in a fidgety stutter and her body moved like a mechanical tool that could use some grease. It was now no longer a space filled with just her and flowers that were a little bit too painful to look at. The knots in her stomach, in her chest, in her throat, all tapped into consciousness. Zhongli came and although it was unavoidable, Lumine wished he did not.

(Would he notice the bandage on her neck? Or the remnants of that uninvited dizziness and grating cough somewhere in her face?)

"Would you like some tea?" she asked after a muted moment passed, as she returned the scissors back to the place and swept away fallen stems and leaves on the floor. She remembered how the old man from the general store was pleasantly surprised when she decided to add a can of loose leaf tea to her basket this morning.

And of course, as she expected, Zhongli refused it politely with a small shake of the head. "There is no need to trouble yourself," he added to the gesture, but Lumine was already off to the kitchen and back with two cups of steaming hot tea.

"I insist," lips tugged into a small smile, the two cups were placed on the table, "at least to repay the meal from yesterday. Yesterday, a week ago, and years ago back when brother and I were still in the orphanage."

The tea was green in color, inching into gold and translucent, giving off a delicate, pleasant scent with white steam rolled into the air to fade away. Her reflection inside danced with the ripples, vaguely inviting her to look at it more than at the man across her, and it won.

The slight tilt of her head made strands of loose hair fell to frame her face, subtly covering her neck as Lumine heaved a short sigh. "It's still far from enough," she added, voice trailing off.

In response to her smile, Zhongli returned the gesture and said, "You remember."

"I do," even without reading Aether's diary, she would still remember it, "I've never eaten any bamboo shoot soup as good as yours, Zhongli."

"You flatter me, Lumine. However, there is no need for you to feel indebted," his voice was painted in tranquil, melancholic blue, "for this is my duty to take care of you."

Her hands rested atop of each other on the table. "Because of my brother?"

"That too," a nod, then Zhongli sipped his tea, "but more than that, it is because I want to."

And there was a shift in his profile; a subtle lift of an eyebrow with amber eyes nursing a gleam of something Lumine failed to define. Zhongli stared at the tea before a rumble of soft chuckle ran past his lips, inducing confusion inside her. He turned to her, then.

"This is your first time brewing tea, I presume?"

"Yes, I just bought the loose leaf tea this morning," she replied and wondered why their conversation took a turn this way.

"I see," Zhongli nodded then made another quiet sip—a gesture thick in elegance contrasting her cheap teacup. "Longjing tea, is it? It certainly tastes different."

There was a question that popped in her head and it was not about the way he could guess what kind of tea it was. Her question lie in the tea being tasted 'different' as she was sure it was just an ordinary tea, more pricey than his coffee, but certainly cheaper than a cup from his teahouse. The old man from the store even gave her thorough instruction on how to brew it properly to get the most of the flavor.

So Lumine took a small sip.

And swallowed it with such effort.

"Ugh…"

It wasbitter.

Not too bitter, but it felt like she was drinking watery coffee instead of tea, and the tea was supposed to have a 'gentle and mellow, but sweet' flavor as told by the old man. But more than that, the embarrassment kicked harder and Lumine scrambled to reach for Zhongli's cup, only for him to lift it away from her.

"Zhongli, please," Lumine pleaded, eyes thrown away from him. Embarrassment made her unable to face him directly. "Let me brew you a proper one."

Because this one was far from word proper and the shame she felt made her want to bury herself alive. His polite laugh did not extinguish her red face.

"It tastes different, but not unpleasant," and Lumine had a hard time believing that since it tasted nowhere near drinkable. But then, he continued, "It has the same taste as the one I remember. A good memory."

Lips chewed and hand gripping tight the hem of her clothes, Lumine returned to her stool to nurse an invisible bruise somewhere in her. "Did brother brew you some?" she questioned, all quiet and reticent.

By the subtle lift of the corner of lips and amber eyes moistened in a mellow swing, she knew it was the case. So therewerethings she did not know about Aether, about his interaction with the man he fell in love with—a secret only himself allowed to indulge in. Lumine supposed it was fair.

"How are you today, Lumine?" Zhongli steered the course back to what he was here for.

The swallow she did to that imaginary lump was surprisingly hard. "I'm… good."

By the slight narrow of his eyes, Lumine knew he noticed the jitter hidden behind casual upfront. Zhongli was really perceptive. "Are you sure? Your complexion does not look well."

Her weak laugh concealed nothing and pronounced more of her weariness. Lumine put the blame on last night's poor decision on drinking instead of resting.

"Just a little bit tired," she said. It was a half-truth. "I was drinking last night. Maybe it's because of that."

The stare Zhongli gave her felt more prickly than it actually was, more admonishing and calculating but she knew it was all in her head. Perhaps he was just feeling concerned about her, but she could not help concealing the persistent cough and blood.

Just a little bit longer, at least until the medicine runs out. Let me keep this stupid feeling.

Because Lumine was aware of the inevitable step Zhongli would have her to take if he knew.

"I did not know you like to drink," Zhongli tapped the teacup, clinking loud and almost making her flinch. Lumine caught the tiniest indignation riding in that sentence. It appeared and disappeared as quick.

"It's… a gift from a friend back in Mondstadt," she hesitated. Technically, it was a gift but she was not really sure to call it that. A bereavement gift, maybe. "I can open another bottle if you like."

Zhongli hummed lightly, eyes fell back to the green liquid. His voice was like a gentle wave, "Your tea is more than enough already, Lumine."

A small, nervous laugh escaped her. "Is that so?"

"Despite the bitterness," Zhongli nodded, "it tastes good."

"Not as good as yours, of course," the sigh following that sentence was short, hollow. "Maybe I should learn more from you."

"About tea?"

"Tea and other things," her voice was reduced to a whisper, "like forgiveness and acceptance, maybe."

When Zhongli said nothing to it, Lumine felt relief washed over her. It sounded more like something better said to herself more than aloud or something that, perhaps, better left unsaid.

The rest of their time was filled with silence, occasionally broken with short conversations about trivial things and piano piece flowing in the background. Sometimes it nudged the things related with Aether orhanahaki, but Zhongli was more than considerate to gently steer the talk far away from those. In the end, there was nothing much that they could talk about.

12.27 pm had Lumine walking behind the counter and return with a bouquet of red roses. Her eyes refused to see the familiar figure standing outside with unlit cigarette stuck between lips and orange hair ablaze under the sun. Though that did not stop her from stealing a fleeting glance to hint at Zhongli. After all, it was Wednesday and Wednesday meant the two men's weekly date.

She wondered if she had started to associate Wednesday with this particular event.

"Your date is here, I guess," Lumine smiled thinly, ignoring the deep frown Zhongli threw at her for the remark. "Jokes aside, I don't think giving him red roses can be considered a good hint about your feelings for him."

And although Lumine meant it as a joke, it still hurt. She refused to mull over the reason for his appearance here in front of her shop after what came to her last night.The audacity, she thought aloud in her head, but she knew that Zhongli was not aware of what happened between them so it was just natural for them to meet here as usual. It was logical, but for once, she wished she could listen more to her honest feelings rather than rationalize everything.

If only she could pretend not to notice him, then maybe it would be easier. The tight clench in her stomach became like a permanent knot and the jerky movement made her stumble. The bouquet was placed on the table none so gently, but all she could do was only watch it.

At least they would leave soon after Zhongli met him. Her head screamed at her; endure it, maintain a neutral face so Zhongli would not catch it.

"This bouquet is not for him," his deep voice poked Lumine out of the stifling nervousness and anxiety. "This is for you."

Golden eyes blinked profusely. "For me?"

"Did you forget?" he asked, one eyebrow raised as he stood, taking the bouquet with him.

Perhaps Lumine did forget something. But even with her raking her brain, over things shared between him and her and other possibilities of 'Aether might have told him about this and that', nothing really came to mind. The closure for her endless musing was a fleeting blank stare resting on red roses.

Maybe…

She turned around, looking at the calendar that had a bright green star doodle next to today's date. Lumine did not make that nor did she had a green marker or highlighter. If anyone made a note on the calendar, it would be—

"Oh…"

—Aether.

When Lumine returned to face Zhongli, the realization was sinking in at the slowest pace possible, like a motion set in prolonged seconds. Zhongli offered her a smile bordering something she would call guilt or perhaps pity. The roses in his hand suddenly reminded her of her blood again.

"Happy birthday, Lumine."

It was sickening.

Bile once again rushed up, searing the back of her throat and a sharp inhale was caught somewhere in the tract before lungs. Everything felt dizzying—the realization, the words meant to be congratulatory, the memories evoked by a simple sentence.

Red roses—last year, it was what Aether gave her before the present they exchanged. Lumine stared at the rose bouquet before her and it was hurt to see an image of her brother beaming a smile while holding out the same thing flashed for some milliseconds.

But it was not Aether. It was Zhongli who held that bouquet for her. Her eyes traced all the joints of his fingers holding the bouquet, counting every crinkle and folds visible to her eyes before everything became a blur. Weight nestled on her eyes, recalling sharp scorch surrounding her vision and hot tears to well up.

Today was two months and six days after Aether's passing, at the end of the month, a couple of days away into a new month. It was used to,supposed tobe a joyful event for them, for her, but now there was barely a feeling close to happiness anywhere in her.

Because she would age but Aether would not. She would eventually grew older, collecting scars and piling up loneliness, while Aether stayed 21 forever. She would repeat this silent celebration over and over as long as she lived and, perhaps, it would be a commemoration of his death for the second time each year.

There was no happiness in her 'happy birthday' and Aether in what had always beentheirbirthday.

A sigh came in a shudder as tense hands received the bouquet. Downcast eyes could barely make out the shape of roses, the edge of paper wrapping, the white line in the ribbon. Everything was a big blob of red and pink and white. Lumine brought it closer to her face, hugged it tighter, buried her face in those red flowers to hide tears fallen to cheek like an endless stream of river.

She fell to the stool, shoulders shaking and silent gasp of air all over. Quivering lips brushed against velvety petals and words of gratitude came in a broken syllable, "T-Thank.. yo-u."

She hated how she cried easily, how everything easily overwhelmed her, how she was unable to contain herself from breaking. It was hard to collect herself when she was already falling apart. Falling then reforming, and then falling again to reform again into a full circle. Even with her acceptance toward Zhongli, the same toward Aether's death was still a farfetched idea.

A hand reached to rest on her head, brushing her hair in a gesture that felt too familiar to her. The same hand went away to cup her cheek, to lift her face hidden by damp roses; a thumb gently wiped away the trail of tears and she looked up to him. The glimmer in amber eyes spelled pain, but a gentle smile contrasted it as though he, too, wanted to break.

"You.. know," she said after a heavy silence filled with her trying to catch herself from spiraling down too far. "About this, about us."

"Of course," he offered her a handkerchief, which she took gladly, "and had it been not Wednesday, I would have invited you out for a luncheon."

But it was Wednesday and the luncheon he would have today was not going to be between him and her.

"Thank you. But this is more than enough already," Lumine whispered, gazing at the roses.

"I am aware of what red roses mean," he said, pulling away his hand to fall on his side. "However, I believe you remember my constitution, therefore I know you will not take it the wrong way. As presumptuous as it might sound to you, I regard you and Aether as my family. That is the truth."

The gentle smile did not change. If anything, together with her nodding slowly at him, it only grew softer and gentler. "And I do hope that someday you will be able to regard me the same way," he added.

Lumine did not know how to react to that. Maybe Zhongli knew it, or maybe the conflict was clear for his perceptive eyes to see. Whichever it was, the man simply nodded as if acknowledging her perplexed mind and putting everything to an end.

"For you are not alone in this world, Lumine."

The ring of the bell echoed in the quiet space as Lumine hugged the bouquet tight. The money left on the table was too much for the bouquet, too much for the selfless kindness he offered. She turned away, trying to contain Zhongli's last two sentences that rang louder than the jingle of the bell. Louder than a familiar voice greeting Zhongli outside her shop, louder than her own voice screaming at her to hide from those ocean eyes.

Family.

For more than ten years, family had always consisted of her and Aether. At least in her world. Aether might still consider their parents as their parents, but not for her. If it was not because of Aether and the fact that she needed an excuse to be away from Liyue, she would not have gone to Mondstadt and actually trying to find any clue about them there.

And after her only family had gone, now she had someone offering himself to fill that role, to fill that gaping hole left after Aether's death.

(The same hole she tried to fill with Childe's presence, only for it to be left empty again—if not emptier.)

Yet it was not easy. Even with her fully realizing she had accepted the fact that Zhongli had been playing a big role in her life, it was not easy to consider him as a family. The role he played was all behind the closed curtains. It probably would stay that way if it was not for him starting to involve himself with Aether.

Zhongli and her were not anywhere close to friends in terms of relationship, but their situation was certainly more than what acquaintances would have. It ran deeper yet felt shallow at the same time. It was an ambiguous area; something she should feel uncomfortable with but surprisingly not. Maybe deep down she just refused to complicate things more than it already had.

This nameless area was enough for her.

The same ring of bell broke silence draped over the space. Lumine quickly wiped away the trace of tears and hoped the two men outside her shop had gone so she would not have to see Childe on her way greeting her customer. However, she was presented with two things the moment she turned around.

One; Zhongli and Childe were still there, talking to each other with a certain glint in Childe's eyes and a vibrant smile offered to Zhongli.

Two; Kaeya was standing on the entranceway.

Lumine was hit with a violent sense of deja vu, only this time Kaeya did not bring anything with him and he arrived after Childe and Zhongli did. The smirk she saw back then, however, materialized on the knight's face.

"This is my second time coming here but," one eye looked around before settled on her together with a slight shake of his head, "this isreallynot you, Lumine."

A dry laugh ran past her lips. She chased away whatever was left of her talk with Zhongli for Kaeya was sharper than Zhongli and he might notice things. "Another day of accompanying Master Jean to her diplomatic-related work, I assume?"

"Sharp," he chuckled with a couple of claps. Those claps stopped when his one blue eye seemed to take notice of what she had in hand. A glance was made at the two men outside, specifically at the long-haired one, before gliding back at her. Lumine disliked the smirk that gradually grew on his face.

"Don't," she said promptly, rising a hand with a small frown thrown his way. "I can guess what you're going to say and let me tell you that your assumption is wrong, Sir Kaeya."

This time, it was a burst of full laughter coming from Kaeya although Lumine found nothing was funny from her words. Teasing her had always been his favorite pastime back in Mondstadt, but turned out it did not change even after she returned to Liyue. Lumine walked away, grabbing an unused vase to fill it with water, and carefully removes the roses from the binding. She could feel Kaeya's sharp eye watching each and every movement she made. It started to remind her of how Childe usually did it.

"Surely you didn't come here just to tease me," Lumine said as she arranged the flower, pushing the sudden recollection away. "If you're going to order something, I'm afraid you have to wait until the lunch break over."

Periphery vision caught Kaeya walking and leaning against the counter. "Then it's perfect," he said, "because Master Jean is inviting you for a lunch."

This had her lifting her head from the roses, hand almost knocking over the vase in the process. "Master Jean?"

"Mmhm," Kaeya closed his one eye, crossing arms across chest, "it'll be for a quick reunion or another."

Golden eyes narrowed. A hand rested on the hip with her head tilted to the side. "And this 'another' is…?"

Kaeya gave her a smile, the famous all-knowing smile, and from that, Lumine knew he was not going to tell her anything about it.Typical Kaeya, she mused inside.

"Fine," a sigh escaped her, "I know you're not going to tell me anything unless I'm going."

Again, he laughed. "As expected of you."

And Lumine huffed. "More like I'm used to your way of convincing people in thesubtlestway possible."

He walked up to her, patting her on the head. "Amazing, right?"

"Scary, actually," she nodded as if to emphasize that. Some things really did not change at all. "Wait here. I'll go get some things first."

By 'things', she meant just a small bag where she kept her purse and a small pocket tissue and a familiar paper pocket. Had she known they would be here, Lumine would have bought something to bring in return for the bouquet and wine.

Maybe next time.

When Lumine walked out of the shop after flipping the sign to close, locked the door, and fell into step with Kaeya, the two men had already disappeared. There was a cigarette on the spot where Childe used to stand. Its wrapping was torn and the tobacco inside was spilled, painting golden brown dust on the grey street.

As if it was stomped to smithereens.

A mass of people filled the boulevard in front of Liyue's distinguished Xinyue Kiosk when Lumine and Kaeya stepped to its front entrance.

It was a sight to be expected as people were starving and looking for a place to eat before falling into the routine of work. After all, it was lunch break time yet Lumine, on the other hand, was not feeling hungry in the tiniest bit despite only having a cup of coffee for breakfast.

Lumine wondered if this no-appetite state of hers had started to become an unhealthy bit, especially when it came to Xinyue Kiosk's exquisite cuisines laid before her.

Speaking of Xinyue Kiosk, she questioned the choice of meeting place. Kaeya said it was where Jean was having a meeting with the Liyue Qixing and with that information alone, Lumine knew why she invited her there. By the time they arrived there, the meeting had long since it was finished and Jean had kindly arranged a new table for them.

Meeting Jean should have been easy if not for the fact that a single condolence word from her, said in a voice barely louder than a whisper, but piercing deeper than other words did, made Lumine crack inside. The tight smile she gave the older woman did not go unnoticed by both Jean and Kaeya. But maybe it was out of kindness that they turned the page over.

Things after that were a lot more bearable to talk about. The topics varied from how Amber and Barbara were trying to come along after knowing Jean's plan of meeting her, to how Charles could use more hands for the new delivery system, to Glory simply missing her talking companion.

Talking with them was like walking down memory lane. And although it had just been two months since her return to Liyue, Lumine never expected people to miss her.

"We could have sent you letters," Jean said, "but no one seems to know your address here in Liyue and Kaeya forgot to ask you from when he visited you last time."

Lumine laughed at that, at the tired sigh from Kaeya as if he remembered unpleasant memories related to it.

"Amber was fuming," Kaeya explained, "she turned in her daily reports with barely readable handwriting. Can't say it didn't give me a headache. A certain bard and what usually to be a tight-lipped bartender told me I deserved it, though."

The blue-haired man ended his story with a sense of mock sadness, to which he finally got her address written in his note. "You could have just asked Flora, you know," it was her turn to tease him this time, "after all, she does all the delivery for Mondstadt's native flowers to my shop."

Or maybe Kaeya was aware of that since the start and asking her address was not all there was to it. It was more of asking for her permission for people to send letters to her—in consideration of her mourning period and also to notice her that she would be getting letters from time to time. Surprises were good, but Lumine appreciated the subtle notice done in advance.

But more than those, Lumine was presented with two bigger things; a question of moving out from Liyue to Mondstadt and news regarding her parents' whereabouts.

The first one was asked by Kaeya, asked in the most roundabout way to be careful for her not to take it the wrong way. After all, it was a rather sensitive subject and Kaeya knew just how to extract this kind of subject smoothly. Of course, Lumine got the idea behind his numerous questions quickly, but she played along with him just to humor herself.

The second one came directly from Jean and it surprised her for Lumine had mostly given up to the idea of finding them.

"They are now living in Fontaine, working as a merchant," Jean paused, rubbing her interlaced hands together. "Do you want me to continue, Lumine?"

By the conscious blink she did, Lumine knew she must be looked like she was zoning out while actually, she was processing things. "Ah, yes. Please do continue, Master Jean."

Jean eyed her hesitantly, as though whatever she was about to tell her could hurt her more than everything she had undergone. Lumine did not blame her for being careful, for being considerate. After all, neither Jean nor Kaeya knew of her present circumstance. The nod Jean gave her felt as if both were treading on thin ice.

"They are living as a family of three. With a daughter of six years old, in other words," Jean paused, "your little sister."

Somehow, the news did not hit her like a ton of bricks falling down to her despite the sullen situation it contained. It sunk in slowly, steadily, surely, and all she had in response were a couple of blinks and a slow nod followed by dragging out "I see…" spoken in a murmur.

A family of three. A little sister. Somewhere in Fontaine, somewhere beyond Liyue and even Mondstadt.

"That… must be nice," Lumine said after a beat stretched too long, accumulating tense silence and uncomfortable lingering gaze on her. Then, another nod. "Good for them."

"Lumine… are you... okay with that?" Jean asked. Her gentle voice sounded hesitant and probably perplexed at the indifference she displayed.

"I'm fine, Master Jean." And it was the truth. After all, it was Aether who wanted to know about them. Lumine only used it as an excuse for herself and she had little to no genuine interest in that matter. It was all just for Aether.

Now she knew that Kaeya did not mean to just taunt her into coming along. And as much as she tried to push herself into showing any interest in the matter about her parents, the feeling never came. Instead of pursuing the matter further, Lumine shifted the topic into a lighter one.

Minutes of talking, an obvious attempt to make Jean and Kaeya forget about the previous talk, and then Xinyue's specialties were laid out before her. However, rather than digging into the cuisines she normally would never be able to afford, Lumine just snacked on anything she seemed merciful to her stomach. The golden shrimp balls, although tasted heavenly and melted in her mouth, they brought in uncomfortable stir to her stomach.

"Eat more, Lumine," Kaeya said, passing another shrimp ball to her plate, "you used to eat two portions of sticky honey roast. What happened to that appetite?"

"Well," a nervous laugh emerged. She could not say really that herhanahakirobbed it all away, right? "What do you say if I tell you I'm on a diet?"

"Oho?" Kaeya leaned in, one eye observing her. "I sense a man playing a role in this."

"What?No!"

He whistled while Jean frowned at her. "I hope it isn't affecting your health in any bad way, Lumine," Jean said while Kaeya mumbled something along the line of 'a certain person in the tavern gonna break his heart'.

Ignoring Kaeya's mumble, Lumine felt like nursing an incoming headache. "It's nothing bad, Master Jean. You don't have to worry."

By the time they finished eating, time was sliding to somewhere at 2 pm and the sky was another light shower accompanied with the tender yellow beams of sunlight piercing through the gaps of clouds. Another sunshower. Another good person passing away. Another sudden need to go and visit Aether.

After a quick farewell and promises of writing to each other, Lumine retraced her steps through the boulevard before making a turn to a more familiar, emptier road and fell to sequences of a familiar route, treading her way to the cemetery ground slowly. The damp air clung to her skin, giving the feeling of being in a stifling confined space even though she was out in the open space.

When she reached the ground, the same rusty gate creaked when pushed and smeared orange rust to her hand. A hushed chatter from a group dressed in black, stood before a grave, got silenced at the shrill creak. A quick nod to one of the mourning people and replied with the same nod, then Lumine walked away. Cobblestone street was quick to turn darker from rain droplets as she trudged through the solemn ground. When she reached Aether's grave, a single glaze lily lying next to his tombstone was gathering rainwater in its petals.

She did not need to guess who it was from.

Sunlight filtered through the tree canopy and cast shadows of leaves around the stone and Lumine crouched. A hand touched the cold stone, fingers tracing the incision etch of his name. One deep sigh accompanied by shudders crawling on her skin and everything returned to her. Lumine tried to contain the sadness from spilling all over. Golden eyes disappeared behind closed lids, chasing away tears and a terrible impulse to cry.

"Happy birthday, brother," she said, voice as quiet as rain hitting the ground, lips forming a tight smile in a meager hope it could lessen the pain. "Happy birthday, us."

Recollection of their last birthday together resurfaced; of Aether pulling out a birthday cake and her lighting up the twin candles, hands holding each other as they wished before blowing out the flame, them exchanging presents after Aether's rose bouquet.

"From this year onward, I'll always be the first man who gives you a rose bouquet on your birthday, even if when you're married, Lumi."

Unfortunately, that promise was left unfulfilled. Or it did, just not in the form of him handing it out by himself.

"You're terrible, brother," she continued. "To ask someone else just to fulfill your promise to me. The bouquet I received from Zhongli today doesn't count, you know?"

She could imagine Aether laughing at that, and probably telling her not to scold him for he was older than her by few minutes. After all, that was what he always said in defense whenever she scolded him.

"Well, technically, I'm older than you now so I have the right to scold you," a small laugh broke past her lips, but it diminished quick. "Still, it's much better for me not having that right if it means we can celebrate our birthday together."

The image of his smile and big hug after opening his present was still fresh in her memory. A set of pruning scissors to replace the old, rusty ones, the one he had been eyeing for a long time but decided not to buy it because the old ones were still working and the set was too expensive.

He said so but then proceeded on buying her a dress at a higher price than those scissors. Really, when it came to himself, he barely bothered to give the best. And thus was his personality. It was no wonder that people like him despite their questionable background.

Her hand fell back to her lap as she pushed herself to stand, shooing the dizziness away and mustered another thick sigh. "I just met some people from Mondstadt. Master Jean and Sir Kaeya. You must be familiar with their name. I mentioned their name in my letters several times."

For Jean was helping her with documents Lumine needed to fill regarding the search of their parents' whereabouts and Sir Kaeya helped her find a place to stay and day-to-day jobs to earn money. Two busiest and famous people in Mondstadt, and Lumine never knew that kind of people helped her until much time later. She felt indebted to them.

"They told me they know where our parents are. Guess where? Fontaine. Can you believe it?"

What answered her was a quiet noise of rain hitting the cobblestones, leaves, ground, her. It was a typical reaction she expected; a set of machine wiring up in her head to turn every pitter and each patter into imaginary affirmation or rejection from Aether. This time, it sounded almost like a surprised noise and nothing. The hands clasped behind her tasted wet and flaky dust.

"And apparently we have another sibling, far younger than us, our baby sister of six years old," she continued, voice carried out by wind and rain and a tremble of lips forming thin line. She quivered. "They're a merchant now. Things must be a lot less rough than how it was with us years ago."

Maybe they lived in a house, not too big and not too small, with a proper bed and clean clothes and a warm meal. Maybe they had a cat or dog pet for their young daughter to play with, or maybe cute dolls made of soft fabric instead of leftover rags sewed together. Maybe they were all finally happy and content now.

"Good for them. Right? Good for them."

(What about hers? Her hap—)

The sole of her flat shoes scuffed against grassy ground bordering cobblestones. She shifted her weight, her stance, mind flowed back to the dark sky and framed glimmer of the ocean at 3 am and the coldness of seawater on her skin seeping into the hem of her skirt. "A lot of things have happened in the span of a week. Surprising things. Pleasant things and bad things."

Damp hair clung lightly to the neck, tickling the area where she had a bandage to cover remnants of a scene from last night. Red mask and red ground, cold but familiar hand holding her securely, cold but familiar voice spouting out truths lying hidden beneath the red mask and friendly chats over morning coffee or warm dinner. They dissolved into trickles of rain and orange glow landing on her.

"Don't worry about me. I'm fine."

(Lie.)

"I also received medicine from Zhongli for myhanahaki. Hopefully, it can delay the growth of this damned blue-petalled flower in my lungs."

(Stop lying to yourself.)

It's called hoping. Shut up.

"Anyway, Master Jean and Sir Kaeya also asked me if I have any plan to move there. To Mondstadt."

The City of Freedom. The freedom she longed for, the people who accepted her without any question about her origin, the calm breeze, and the peaceful life. She fitted in there just right.

"And while I appreciate them for trying to help me with arranging the place to stay over there and all," she remembered Kaeya explaining how he kept the place she used to stay in Mondstadt, just in case she wanted to move over there, "I turned down the offer."

The past her would be elated to receive such an offer and surely would scream at her present self for turning it down. After all, moving to Mondstadt meant she could finally be free from the stifling Liyue. She crouched, hand lingered a dragging second on the cold tombstone, on the carving of his name. A thin layer of dampness and dust clung to fingertips and she reveled in the cold sensation that diminished far too quick.

"Because I have your shop to manage," she paused for a moment to gaze intently at the silent tomb, at his name, "and you're here."

The rain had stopped and clouds were scattered, bathed in rich golden light when Lumine trudged out of the cemetery ground. There lingered the scent of rain, a heavy dose of wistful silence, and fleeting whim of staying there longer even without words spoken to him.

Her feet brought her to the harbor, to the dock where she stood still last night with sobriety barely hanging by the thin thread amidst fuzzy mind. Uncle Tian was not on his usual fishing spot nor there was any clue of her the other shoe she lost.

A punch of laughter from fishermen nearby shook her out of the imminent clutch of reverie. She dragged herself away from the dock, away from the harbor, and fell back to the familiar street leading back to her shop.

A quick drop at Wanmin Restaurant had her ordering a takeaway crystal shrimp from Chef Mao. She would have to force herself into eating something. The food she ate earlier would not provide enough energy for her brain to do a monthly shop evaluation. Even now, the headache pounded on the top side. Lack of sleep really did affect her physique.

"Would you like to meet Xiangling and Paimon?" he asked as Lumine handed him money.

A quick peek over the man's shoulder had her looking a glimpse of Xiangling cooking in what seemed to be a busy kitchen. Paimon stood behind the girl, looking like she was about to inhale whatever Xiangling was cooking and forgetting the meal she needed to serve. Lumine shook her head.

"They look busy now. I'll drop by again later when they're not too busy," Lumine said, giving a wave at Xiangling and Paimon.

Chef Mao nodded, thanking her then told Xiangling about her order. Lumine took a seat on the wooden chair outside, watching children running across Chihu Rock street to the plaza, a stray dog chasing after them with a stick between teeth, and a Millelith on patrol yelling at the group to be careful. It was a typical afternoon in this part of the city, but at the same time, it felt strange, new to her.

It reminded her of the days spent in the orphanage.

Those peaceful days...

"I missed them."

"Missed who?"

Xiangling emerged from beside her, carrying a carton food package in one hand while Paimon trailed behind her with an empty tray. The two could be mistaken as siblings if not for the striking contrast of their features, for Paimon often followed Xiangling everywhere she went if not always.

"Missed me?" Xiangling asked, offering her the package as Lumine laughed. "Glad you dropped by today! I remember it's your birthday so I threw in some chicken-mushroom skewers!"

"You and Paimon," she replied. "And thank you for the freebies. I'll make it up to you next time."

As Lumine stood, Paimon ran up to her. "Not so fast! Paimon hasn't given her birthday present yet!"

"Well," Lumine shrugged her shoulders lightly, arms spread open, "I'm waiting."

Perhaps it was a little bit unexpected that Lumine stiffened at the sudden hug Paimon gave her, to which Xiangling followed suit. Golden eyes blinked in astonishment before she relaxed, wrapped her arms around them, and ignored the stare from passerby's and a choo from Chef Mao. The word 'thank you' came in a whisper from her as she patted Paimon's trembling shoulder.

Maybe they remember how it was not just her birthday, but also Aether's.

"We hope for you to stay healthy and happy," Xiangling whispered.

"And have more free time so you can visit Paimon and Xiangling often," Paimon added. "Lately it's always been that guy from Fatui buying fisherman's toast. Paimon guesses he likes it."

Feigning confusion successfully avoided her from discussing that topic further. Thanking them again and promising to visit them, she then left the restaurant with the carton package in hand. It would make a good snack as she worked on this month's income and expenses of the shop. She would finish it quickly and had an early sleep to make up for last night's lack of sleep.

Her shoes made a shuffling sound against the dry road, avoiding small puddles as she wondered if it was alright to take two medicine in one day. Lumine was no doctor nor she knew much about medicine so she should not do anything other than what Zhongli had told her. However, there was a time when she was down with a cold that knocked her out into sleeping for two days. At that time, she forced herself into drinking medicine twice her dose and—

(You might be overdosed and die, Lumine.)

Right. Dying from a drug overdose was not uncommon news in Liyue especially when dealing with shady drugs. The medicine she had from Zhongli, while she trusted him for not giving anything weird to her, he never told her of its content.

(You are desperate. You didn't think much about the authenticity of the medicine when he first offered it to you.)

His only warning was that it might not work on her and she had promised herself that she would not blame him for it. After all, she made the decision herself so it should be her who had to pay the price and swallow the outcome.

Well, every wound was bound to heal sooner or later.

But hers…

A thin smile manifested as Lumine shoved away the noisy voice completing the sentence in her head. It screamed fact to her, but she wanted to believe in this thin thread named hope that somehow, someway, herhanahakiwould stop growing without having her losing anything.

One deep breath was followed with a slow exhale. She was nearing her place now and maybe she needed to wash her apron first before started working as planned.

However, as she neared the shop, her steps faltered then came to a complete halt. Her hand felt weak, about to drop her takeaway when she saw a familiar figure standing in front of her shop with downcast eyes.

Shit.

Lumine had no time to deal with this, with him, whatever his business with her was. The wound, the deep bruise from last night had yet to heal, even the cut on her neck still felt like a sting.

And now this.

Chewing her lips, she took long strides to the door, trying to get the key out as quick as she could but those blue eyes noticed her. Cigarette quickly discarded to the ground, orange light died with the harsh stomp against the dirt, as he turned to her. The click of the lock being undone felt unbearably long and the swing of the door was dragging.

"Go away," Lumine uttered through clenched teeth as she entered the shop hastily after noticing how Childe seemed wanting to stop her.

"Listen, I–"

"I'm busy. I don't have time to listen to anything to anyone." She pushed the door close, only for him to hold it back with his hand. The loud clang of bell rang like a yell to her pounding head. Lumine averted her eyes, focusing her gaze on the road outside through the crack of the door and his body.

"Senseiasked me to give this to you," Childe said quickly, one hand holding a package was lifted slightly to catch her attention, "or are you not going to accept it?"

Lumine did not know how it looked like from outside, but people passing by her shop were all looking at them, at Childe, at her through the window. Maybe it looked like they were fighting, but that was what currently happening. At least she tried keeping her voice from rising.

A click of her tongue was paired with eyes narrowing at the decision. Lumine walked away, letting the door pulled open and familiar footfall echoed in the space. She dropped the takeaway on the table and walked behind the counter, ignoring the addition of a presence in the room. It felt prickly, intruding, a sore bruise.

"Rose, huh?" Lumine heard his voice rolling and reaching her in a glossy dismal.

"Put it on the table and leave." It was the best she could muster without further irritating herself, without agitating the nudge of petals in her chest. She held back an urge to cough, to yell, to crumble.

But the Harbinger remained. "I want to talk with you."

The snort she let out was not gentle in the slightest. A laugh that followed it was choked full with sarcasm. "What is it, Childe? Do you have another mission? Need a place to act as a civilian? Aren't you done using this place ascamouflage? And here I thought you're the one who told me not to trust you yet you're here wanting to talk with me."

When he did not answer her, she turned to him, eyeing the frown forming on his lips and reluctance tiptoeing around those ocean eyes. Childe was a rough sketch of a lost boy and an old man drowning in a bottomless pool of regret while Lumine was a ticking bomb. It was hard to hold herself back.

"Isn't it enough to use my shop as a meeting place?" she spat, white anger seeped out to manifest in a deep glare and tight clench of hand. "Congratulation. Not only you've done your Fatui mission so well, but you've also managed to keep your meeting place for your weekly date."

A flash of anger ran past him and for a moment, Lumine thought he would finally lose it. But then again, it was just a flash and what remained of it was nowhere to be found. There was only a look of somewhat pained glimmer that stretched far. Pain, she mused inwardly, Lumine was much more familiar with it than he did.

"Senseidoesn't need to know," he said finally, dragging his gaze away from her to linger on the floor, "about me, about us."

She really wanted to laugh. Zhongli knew about who he actually was and there was nothing in 'us'. What was he trying to hide? The fact that they were at a dissonance? Zhongli would pick it up sooner or later even without her hinting about it.

"Why? Because you love him? Because you want to be with him? Like an ordinary person? You know, Childe? You're so selfish. You keep on telling how I shouldn't trust you or how you're a bad guy when you're trying to fool Zhongli into trusting how ordinary you are when you are keeping a feeling for him and wanting him to return that feeling," she berated long and quick, leaving herself without enough oxygen in lungs until she finally stopped for a deep breath. "You're not playing fair in this game, Childe."

Because if Zhongli could be standing so close to him and Childe could keep his feeling within him, then why could not she? What was it in her that differentiate her from Zhongli?

Love?

Look at me, look at me.

Because of the love he had for Zhongli? For a man who had lost his ability to love properly over a disease? If it was all about love then—

Childe, look at me.

"I lo–" Lumine stopped, clamped up immediately. Clicking her tongue and fighting the burning sensation on the back of her eyes, she lashed out. "I hate you. I hate you so much, Childe, I wish I've never helped you back then."

(Lie, lie, lie. These lies can't cure your illness, you know.)

"Ojou-chan, I'm so–"

"Get out."

Lumine turned around, a hand gripping the edge of the counter hard as if she would slip and swallowed into the void under her feet if she let it go. Everything was heavy and constricting her chest as if the ivy was back and wrapped tight around her. It hurt her; her own words drenched in lie, the ivy ensnared her chest, the poke of petals in her lungs.

Of course, it would be just blood if she tried to cough it out.

"I trusted you, I really did. And that," a sigh, heavy and thick in a mixture of disappointment and anger and sadness, blew past the crack of her lips, "is my mistake. A grave mistake."

The package was placed on the table, next to her takeaway, and Childe walked to the door. A beat passed, a moment filled with complete silence and her holding back quivers and shivers. Time dragged out like an hour when actually only a few seconds passed before a gentle ring permeated throughout the room.

Once again, the room was just occupied by her.

Lumine let out a puff of breath she did not know was holding before letting her body fall into a sense of guilt and regret and sadness. Her anger subsided, leaving exhaustion in its wake and a harder pound to the head. All left of her was the whim to cry but no tears welled up on her lower eyelids, no amount of invisible bruise could make it spring out.

She was truly, really exhausted.

Still, Lumine had work to do and food to force herself to eat with. The slow walk to the table felt painfully slow but surprise momentarily erased the fatigue when she opened the package. A cake, strawberry cake, sat inside its box like the most desirable thing ever existed in her life.

But how fleeting that surprise lasted could be measured with her eyes noticing a note outside the box. On a folded paper, a short sentence was written with handwriting that certainly did not belong to Zhongli.

Happy birthday

I'm sorry

Lumine turned away, putting the small cake with white frosting and tiny blue flowers decoration into the fridge. She returned to the shop area carrying a cup of warm water and her book containing everything needed to work on her monthly evaluation.

The paper was crumpled and tossed into the trashcan.

Notes:

I'm alive, oh god, I'm updating this fic finally;;; someone told me not to apologize for being a slow writer, but I still feel the need to apologize so... I'm sorry it took me so long to write this chapter since it has... a lot going on there but I also thank you for being so patient with me and for being so supportive! this fic has reached 2k kudos... I'm so surprised since I'm not expecting it but thank you so much!

At this point, just to be safe, I'll say this fic will have an irregular update schedule, meaning I will update it depending on how fast I can write.. thank you for understanding. also i'd like to point out something in case anyone didn't realize it: I changed the archive warning into Major Character Death so... feel free to drop it if it's not your cup of tea!

I want to thank everyone who graces me with their talent in drawing... I've received a lot of fanart for this fic and I've compiled ithereif anyone interested! i can't thank you enough ( ω )

As usual, kudos and comments are always motivating! I'll see you in the future updates!

Chapter 12: anemone

Summary:

the heart has its reason.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter fornotes.)

Chapter Text

For Lumine, the first crack of dawn was always made of abrupt awakening into hot puncture, beautiful scarlet on her hands, and a cocktail of tangy stench, exhaustion, and resignation.

The burn lasted for a prolonged moment, and while she forced herself to disregard it, a foreign tingle came up in her to stay. It sculpted a stray feeling of how it seemed that she coughed up more blood today compared to the other day.

Glossy eyes were once again unable to find specks of blue in the deep red pool. The absence probably served as desperation disguised in false hope or a punishment masked in a futile endeavor. There was a diluted scent of gray hanging in the air, tickling her nose, smelled something like burnt paper and more. It was a familiar scent, and what came to mind after that was that unguarded back leaning against the doorframe, lonely blue eyes gazing at the rain, and an apology written in a small, folded paper.

Lumine did not want to remember them.

Wednesday had flown away in the shadow of despondence and a small white cake with blue frosting left in the fridge. Thursday came and went away unusually fast, passed her by in a blur of motion and restless night. The day dipped into Friday with Lumine dragging out a heavy sigh, face beaded in a cold perspiration, body heavier than ever. Lumine wondered, with lethargy tapping into her head, if it would be worse than the other day.

A slow push to move her body, dragging blanket together with the shift of her feet, and thoughts of restocking flowers were shoved away from her mind as the world spun, eliciting nausea and a clench somewhere in her stomach. It slowly disappeared, leaving just a slight headache and a tremble across her hand and knees. She teetered to the bathroom, running cold water across sticky hands to strip away blood from skin, and Lumine thought she could use a cold shower today.

But it never happened. The same goes for the idea of drinking coffee. It was a hot shower and a cup of poorly made hot tea at the end and she wished they could chase away the remnants of nausea. The clinking noise from the metal spoon hitting the cup sounded louder when she stepped to the shop area.

Greeting her in there was stagnant silence.

It ran along the edge of haunting coldness only she could feel, but sunbeam poured in through the crack of the curtain to gradually fill the darkness. Lumine stood at the doorway for a moment, both to savor the stillness and to pound the idea that Aether was no longer around to tend those potted plants to her head. When she moved, it was a full swing of trembling legs paired with uncertain steps to the window. Thin curtain pulled open and now she sat on the stool facing the front door.

The tea in her hold was hot. Its scent was too weak to smell, but the small sip calmed her although it almost seared her tongue. As she gazed at the red roses centerpiece, her mind made a slow dip to the idea of how she was pretty lucky in this life. And to think more about it, the world had been pretty kind to her.

Yes, she got left behind by her parents, but there was Aether with her and she was not alone. They both entered the orphanage and thank Archons Aether was so stubborn that he would not let anyone separate them. And maybe it was also because of him that everyone was kind to her, even if some whispers went on behind their backs, but at least no one chased them out for being foreigners in Liyue.

People could be judgemental, after all, and she could not blame them after knowing how the foreigners around them treated their land as a playground. That Snezhnayan mafia, the Fatui made them wary of foreigners, but surely, they should have known that a pair of orphaned twins could do nothing other than selling flowers to make a living. So, while Aether lived with a smile plastered on his face to everyone, Lumine lived with a forced one to match his.

But then Aether passed away.

His funeral still felt like it was just held on the other day. It was a quiet one but attended by some of his regulars who were not shy to shed some tears for him. Maybe Lumine received some pats on the back or shoulders, but rain washed them all away including her tears. She left the cemetery ground carrying a heap of condolence words and a single glaze lily with a bent stem that she failed to give to Aether.

Weeks after that, with body still veiled in heavy depression, enter the scene where she sat alone on the dock in one early, misty morning. What came after that—Childe, Zhongli, their parents' whereabouts—was a quick progression much like herhanahaki.

All of that, and Lumine thought she was pretty lucky even if the latter half of it was sourced from her brother's death. She hated herhanahaki, of course, hated the flowers for reminding her about Aether, hated herself for being so miserable and pitiful. But still, the world had been quite generous to her that she was still alive now. For all she cared, she could be dead on the street if not for some women taking them to the orphanage.

And perhaps this was where her luck finally ran out.

Zhongli started to doubt her repetitive words that told him she felt fine, that there was nothing bad after taking the medicine. He did not say it, but the ever-so-slight narrowing of amber eyes did. Lumine knew she could not fool him forever, knew that he would soon notice the powder and rouge on her face to cover pale skin, knew that there would be no other choice for her than to have the flowers removed.

Because everything had crumbled between her and Childe. Everything had come to a finish. There was a clear conclusion and Lumine better accept it soon before it was too late.

Yet a part of her was still clinging onto that thin sliver of hope even though luck and hope no longer meant anything. By sheer stubbornness, perhaps, that she kept on lying to Zhongli and herself.

Sunlight had filled the space when Lumine was freed from the entanglement of her own musings, casting a vibrant yellow spot on the floor and a heavy dose of forced positivity. The tea had turned lukewarm and there was a knock on the door. Her light footfalls faded as the bell chimed aloud with the swing of the door. Outside, there was a wagon and a familiar deliveryman with cardboard boxes resting by his foot.

"Good morning," he greeted, offering a smile that would look better if he did not look visibly exhausted. He offered a pen and a paper to her. "Delivery for Miss Lumine from Flora in Mondstadt. Please sign here."

Tremulous hand clenched and unclenched at her side before taking the pen from him to sign the paper. Steady lines spelling her name slowly became wobbly. She wondered if last night's dinner of porridge and a couple slices of bread were not enough to fill her with energy.

Swallowing thickly, Lumine returned the paper with a hoarse "thank you", brought the boxes back in, and placed it on the workstation. Somehow it took her breath away, and it was nothing of a big deal compared to the usual routine of sweeping the floor and wiping all surfaces. As much as she wanted to catch her breaths, she could not afford to delay and be slow with her work. Those flowers should be handled quickly if she wanted them to stay in a good shape and fresh.

Thus, she pulled herself together; wore the apron, opened the box, and laid all flowers wrapped in newspaper across the surface. Flora always sent her the best flowers and although they certainly looked beautiful, it was still a bit of a painful sight to see. It added more wound to her heart, yet she kept on staring at them. Sometimes Lumine thought if it was a deliberate action to inflict some pain on herself.

It'll be good if I can be numb quickly.

The snap of rubber bands and rustle of newspaper bounced around the quiet room, drowning out other noises and her own pathetic musing. Her mind drifted away as she tore the plastic wrapper of calla lilies and her hands moved in a practiced movement of removing excess leaves and trimming the stems.

It was far from a strenuous activity, and she could say she was enjoying the plucking of leaves and snipping of stems. The first batch was done quickly, only for her to realize she had yet to prepare the container.

Heaviness gathered on her feet as she walked to prepare some. It was as if she had some weight chained to her ankle that each step felt like stumbles instead. So she pulled a stool near the sink to sit as she waited for the water to fill the containers. It gradually faded away and she thought of continuing her work sitting instead of standing.

Nausea, however, returned when she picked up the container.

"Ugh…"

The translucent container in her hand was shaking together with her quiver. A hand flew to her mouth as she desperately suppressed an urge to vomit while the other gripped the edge of the sink after hurriedly putting down the container. Knuckle turned white, either from gripping too hard or because her sight steadily grew hazy. Trembling legs tried to hold her balance before they finally gave up.

Darkness was all she saw and the burn in her chest revisited.

It made her wonder—did she take her medicine this morning?

I… didn't…

Because she had taken the last one yesterday and Zhongli had promised her to give more of it today. 9 am; he said he would come somewhere around that time.

Watery eyes searched the clock through all black spots danced in her sight. Thin shorthand almost pointed at 7 while longhand hovered above 9.

It was now barely seven.

Two more hours.

Cold sweat rolled down her temple and it felt as though her consciousness was swimming between the line of staying and fading. Lumine needed to hold on until then, withstand the burn and nausea, immerse herself with her work so she would not have the chance to think about time or her condition.

The question was would she be able to do it?

It'll be fine. I'll be okay.

Two hours would pass quickly just like any other day. It would be lunch break before she knew it and by then she would have taken her medicine. Zhongli might stay just like he did the other day and perhaps they would have lunch together. Everything would turn out just fine.

When darkness dissipated from vision, she was slumping against the stool with arms that felt numb under her head. The coldness of the floor did not leave her skin even after she stood, but at least that nausea did. One deep inhale was followed with a slow exhale and Lumine steadied herself. She should be able to continue conditioning her flowers now.

Once again, the room was filled with quiet snips and clattering sounds, the gentle rumble of the cooler and occasional stool legs scraping against the floor. Sunbeam filled the room, lighting it up in bright golden light, creating the illusion of a space frozen in time. The workstation was filled with remaining several batches of windwheel aster, cecilia, rose, and tulip, and scattered around her feet were snipped stems and plucked leaves.

Glassy golden orbs eyed the third batch of calla lilies in her hand and placed it inside the container. Piled on her left were windwheel asters. They vaguely reminded her of Mondstadt's lush green plain with the orange flower and grass danced with the kick of wind.

She picked them up, lifted them as her mind's eye pictured the big old tree in the middle of the plain, the warm sun, the scent of grass, the gentle whistle of the wind. It would be nice if she could visit Mondstadt again someday.

And through gaps of windwheel asters, Lumine swore she saw Aether standing near the potted plant by the window. She turned quickly, ignoring the jump of dizziness somewhere at the back of her head, but the image turned into a familiar-looking back and rust-colored hair.

Again—he was here again.

Why?

Lumine glanced away from him, forcing herself to stare at the red roses and lone teacup on the table instead of the cigarette hanging between his fingers. It was now 8.20 and she wondered if,ifeverything was fine between them, would he march in carrying breakfast and sit on his usual seat? Would they be having their usual morning coffee? Would she be still wrapped in the illusion that it was all okay for them to act that way?

(Disregarding his identity, taking more steps deeper into what should not have been crossed, being greedy.)

Perhaps he would. Perhaps they would. Lumine knewshewould.

He must be waiting for Zhongli.

Was that why Zhongli told her he would come earlier today? Because he had another date?

Most likely.

And here I was expecting something else.

(How pathetic.)

The snort escaped together with a small rumble of weak laughter. For once, Lumine thought it was for her—Zhongli's promise to visit her sooner than any other day, Childe's presence. Because Zhongli cared for her, because Childe wanted to try to talk to her again. For once, she wanted to try standing in that world they were in whenever they were together.

Sometimes, and more often than she anticipated, even after knowing Zhongli's condition, Lumine just could not help but thinking that Zhongli and Childe would end up together. Somehow, despite the odd and everything, they would manage. And Lumine had no place there. She would never have any place in their world.

No, no. Don't think about weird things. Stop it, Lumine, stop thinking.

She was thinking too much, too far, and she had just wasted her time from trapped in that useless musing. Lumine might have time, no matter how much remained of her, but these flowers did not. Her work was already slow enough with her trying not to strain herself; she could not afford to go even slower if she wanted these flowers to last for a long time.

So she returned to the heap of windwheel asters in hand, forcing herself to ignore the man's presence, and cleared her head. Eyes skimmed over the outline of the orange flower, studied the delicate, unblemished texture to erase the image of the slow unfurl of thin smoke and a glimpse of blue eyes.

Yet it was hard to restrain herself from being conscious about him. Golden eyes would always search for his figure, making sure that he was still standing there, that he would not just walk off after the cigarette burn away.

Maybe if that time Lumine gave him the chance to speak, then everything would not go this way.

What time remained until Zhongli's visit was filled with hands plucking leaves to discard under the table, cutting stem where it was necessary, placing those flowers in the container, and repeat until the very last batch of the flower. When all was done and the floor was swept clean with no leftover leaf or stem, Lumine took the containers to the cooler or to the rows of displayed flowers one by one.

A sigh ran past rouge-tinted lips, ridden by a telltale of another sigh as deep if not for another wave of nausea interrupting. Her eyebrows were drawn together, creating creases and wrinkles on perspired forehead. Golden eyes flew to read the time. It was ten minutes until nine, yet Zhongli was still nowhere to be seen.

Wiping away sweats, Lumine stole another glance at the man outside her shop. He was still standing there, unmoving, with one hand shoved deep in the pocket while the other held a lit cigarette in place. Messy haze of cigarette smoke swirled around him, the same way it did whenever she lit one each night. But she could never get used to its taste.

There was now a familiar nudge in her chest, a soft itchy brush against the base of her throat, a swell of searing pain deep within. Lumine could swear it felt like coughing up petals except she was not coughing, and those petals might not exist after the medicine.

Despite that, it became harder to breathe each second passed. It was as though there was ivy wrapped around her lungs, constricting them almost mercilessly, or the dormant petals were stealing the air. Her heart was beating fast, courtesy of a bad mixture of panic, a weird twinge of anticipation, and lack of oxygen.

A figure captured on the edge of her eyes had Lumine lifting her head and stilled on her seat. The picture was too familiar for her eyes to see; two men facing each other with one of them discarding his cigarette. The only thing absent from them was the smile usually given from one to another. In its place was something closer to surprise, closer to wonder.

Lumine supposed there was nothing wrong for them to greet each other first, especially knowing Zhongli's polite nature and Childe's sentiment for the older man. For now, she should put these cecilias on the display row then her work would be finished. She could then take a break.

But scarlet droplets marred the white petals. It increased from two to four, to five, until Lumine realized they came from her.

A nosebleed.

"What's going–"

Then a cough.

Harsh, relentless, grating coughs that ignited a fire in her chest, burning her lungs, robbed her of her sight. Lumine felt something slipped past her hands, heard a loud crash amidst the resounding coughs in her ears, and felt scorching pain all over her chest. Hotness welled in her eyes, prickling them, and it slid down her cheek. All of a sudden, it no longer hurt.

Or more like she could not sense anything.

Am I… dying?

Lumine felt like laughing but coming out of her lips was a whimper instead. Dry lips barely formed a smile in a poor attempt of making fool of herself for thinking she would be dying sooner or later so often. One last cough shook her chest and she decided it did not feel so bad, after all.

There was a far-off sound, almost slipped past her ears, but perhaps she heard her name being called by someone. And although her consciousness started to go astray, drifting between standing with her survival instinct to stay awake and to just let go, Lumine thought it would be nice if it was Childe who called her name for once.

Childe heard the shattering, the harsh but muffled cough, and saw her fall to the floor.

The conversation between him and the amber-eyed man halted abruptly; the first syllable for a word of inquiry died at the tip of his tongue. Silence fell around them like crashing waves as blue eyes sensed no movement from the girl inside the shop. No more convulsing shoulders, no more coughs, no more teary golden eyes.

Childe saw it all; trained blue eyes could never miss any movement, yet it passed him by like a sudden gust of wind that died just as quick. He could have recalled a similar scene from some days ago, but more than that, his eyes were focused on something that should not be there. Something too familiar for his eyes to see, but too foreign to be anywhere near her.

Blood.

What is–

It trickled down from her mouth.

–going on?

A mixture of dread and shock filled him, painting his mind blank white. Hot breaths hitched somewhere in his throat, and everything was pushed to a silence, striping away colors and time as he was rooted to the place. His own heartbeat in his ears sounded like a far-off echo that slowly disappeared into nothingness.

Ojou-chan?

There was a shout of a name that punched him out of petrifaction, a blur of dark brown rushing inside, a flurry of emotions in the ever-serene, effortless elegant profile of the older man. A sharp melodic ring of bell pierced his ears and before he knew it, he was kneeling next to Zhongli. In the man's arm was the girl whose color in her face looked way too artificial.

Blue eyes took in the redness that seemed to be so out of place. It was everywhere, on her jaw, on her hands, on her clothes, on her hair. Dread pooled deep, tying a knot somewhere in his stomach as his eyes drifted to catch a glimpse of alarm in Zhongli's face. A harsh frown and a grim line in the place of a polite smile, and if Childe strained his ears, he might hear shudders in the exhale.

It surprised him; Childe had never seen this kind of expression before in Zhongli.

"Childe, please hold her," a stern voice broke the silence, much like his shout of her name earlier. "I will call a doctor."

"I'll take her to her room," Childe said as Zhongli stood to find the phone on the counter. Approval was not something he sought from that because he knew the man was probably thinking the same thing.

"It is–"

"Through that door to the right. I got it." Maybe Zhongli gave him a look of surprise, but even if he did, Childe let it pass.

"Be careful," was what he heard before Zhongli spoke to the phone, mentioning a name with voice hinting forced composure.

A stiff nod was all Childe could reply to the man with. There was this part of him that did not know why calling a doctor when they could just take her to the nearest clinic. But then, he also did not know if it was okay to do that. After all, Childe knew nothing about the source of her blood or anything about her having any illnesses.

What illness? How severe is it for her to cough up blood and collapse?

Those questions sounded louder in his head—relentless, probing, intrusive. And now as Childe cradled her, he thought of how frail Lumine was.

'Fragile' was a word he would not use to describe her. However, ever since that day with her standing motionless in the rain, he had realized how she was not all that she convinced him to be. Amidst all those stoic gestures and blasé swirl in the pool of molten gold, there lie fragility desperately hidden, tucked away from everything. There were emotions in some soft, fleeting moments where she allowed herself to crumble at his presence. There was kindness behind her impassive front, anxiety masked with reserved attitude, and—

"I hate you. I really hate you, Childe."

—there was anger.

Perhaps they were all her shield, her defense mechanism to protect herself, or they might be more than just that. Childe remembered how his first impression of her was that she was not one who easily yield or crumble. Lumine was not afraid to talk back to him even knowing his identity, but also not stupid enough to completely disregard that fact.

Yet now as he carried her limp body, feeling the lack of life in what usually summer eyes and warm tone, he realized how she, too, could crumble.

The crack of glass under his shoes went unnoticed as the drumming heartbeat invaded his ears, drowning out Zhongli's rushed voice against the phone receiver. White cecilias were scattered around him, dipped in spilled water amidst shattered glass. Some of their petals were painted in deep red, much like his own hands. Childe was no stranger with blood and the warm, sticky sensation on his skin or the stench, but he never expected to haveLumine'sblood on his hands.

The way she was now, reminded him of the yellow tulip he received from her that day. It collapsed and withered all the same.

Long strides brought him to what he guessed as her room. He laid her down, untied her bloodied apron, rushed to the kitchen where he saw a box of tissue and returned to wipe away all blood from her. There was this tight clench in him when he noticed a skin-colored bandage on her neck.

The wound from that night three days ago—it might leave a scar.

His hand found its way to her neck, fingers tracing down the fabric patch, then moved to find the pulse that felt like it grew weaker as each beat passed. There was a sentence that he unconsciously chanted in his head, over and over like a prayer or something of the sort. Childe knew he was never one to pray, but just this once, he thought, if the Archons could just grant him a wish, then he would make that one wish now.

Don't go, don't go…

This was a familiar scene, one that he thought he had experienced but not quite right. A dream—it was from that one fever dream he had before awoken to a room filled with a familiar scent. Childe clicked his tongue, pulled away to take her cold hand in his, pressing his forehead to the back of her hand with eyes shut tight.

The dream from that day turned into reality.

"No," he murmured, a brush of hot breaths against cold skin and bony fingers, "she'll be fine."

Time marched in the slowest pace possible as Childe kept glancing at the door, expecting either Zhongli or the doctor or both to enter. But neither came and now he wondered why her room smelled like cigarette smoke. The thin trace of burnt tobacco hanging in the still space did not come from him, nor did it come from her. It was this room, and albeit it was faint, he could recognize that scent anywhere.

Blue eyes noticed a small cup on the floor as he looked around, seemed to be too out of place, and even stranger to see some stubs filling it. Next to it was a pack of cigarettes, one with the same brand as he had.

How in the world—

The sound of hurried footfalls had Childe glancing back to the doorway to find Zhongli entering the room with a man in glasses carrying a bag. Both said nothing as the green-haired man, dressed in anything but typical clothes any doctor would wear, set the bag aside and started to unpack. Vials quickly filled the bedside table, labeled in barely readable scribbles. Somehow, Childe did not trust this person.

"Childe, could you step out for a moment?" Zhongli asked, eyeing the way his hand was still holding Lumine's almost persistently.

He turned to Zhongli. "Why?"

"There are some things I have to talk about with Doctor Baizhu." Right, that was the name Zhongli mentioned during his call earlier.

"Can't I stay?"

The grim line of Zhongli's lips grew deeper. "Please understand that this is to respect Lumine's privacy, Childe."

Privacy–

"But,sensei, I–"

"I will not be reckless as to let a Fatui member gaining more information about Liyue citizen," Zhongli cut him, and although his tone did not once spike, Childe was aware of the rising tension.

"So, you know about me being a part of the Fatui," Childe chuckled lightly, acerbic. "What else did you know,sensei?"

"This is not the proper time to discuss such matter," Zhongli replied, all curt and dismissive. The stern gaze landed on him felt like a spear impaling his abdomen. Zhongli did not feel like the person he knew.

So there is this boundary, huh?

A heavy sigh escaped him together with a nod.

"Fine, I'll wait outside." Childe squeezed Lumine's hand one last time before placing it to her side and stood. "But I will be expecting some explanations,sensei."

The door was closed with a small click behind his back and Childe could faintly hear the exchange from the two men inside. Eavesdropping was never his hobby nor was it his intention as he leaned against the door. He was trying to put some order to his jumbled mind, to cool his head, but the attempt felt like he was trying to fight alcohol with sheer will. It was futile and so he dragged himself away.

Artificial lemon scent greeted him back in the shop lacking its owner, felt larger and empty without the usual blonde working behind the workstation. Next to it, the remnant of glass shards, scattered white flowers, and specks of blood looked like a crime scene. Childe walked to the front door and flipped the sign then pulled the thin curtain close. Someone might peer inside, mistake him for conducting violence and call the millelith. There would be bigger trouble, then.

He stood for a moment by the window, eyeing the cardboard boxes piled in a corner topped with a stack of wrinkled newspaper, before deep blue eyes swept through the area. The shop no longer exuded that strange but pleasant atmosphere. The calmness felt too still, a prickling silence amidst the colorful row of lush flowers that she hated.

Hate, and yet she tended to it diligently. The red roses sitting in the vase at the center of the table barely showed any sign of wilting while the single tulip withered in the span of two or three days in his care.

Then again, he did not really 'care' for the tulip. Not because he did not know what to do. It just that Childe always thought of how all beautiful things wither away quick whether he cared for it or not. And if to care meant to have an attachment, then it would probably be better with not caring—so when it withered, he would not have to deal with the sense of loss.

Although, of course, there were exceptions. Like his family, for example, and some of his comrades and subordinates to some extent. Zhongli, too, for obvious reason and—

Golden eyes flashed in his mind. Then, a figure sitting on the stool with hot coffee in hand; subdued smiles and fleeting glances, felt close and distant altogether.

Lumine.

"Childe, you are here."

Rich baritone voice tapped him out of endless reverie, manifested in a bright amber gaze that was still filled with taut tension and muted agitation. Zhongli stepped into the space, but even with him in the shop, the lingering emptiness did not diminish. There was no relief or ease that he used to feel whenever Zhongli was around. So, along with the heaviness pooling deeper into his chest, Childe replied to Zhongli lightly, fake placidity embedded in each word.

"This looks like a crime scene," he said, walking to the shattered glass and flowers dipped in the water puddle. His eyes ignored the red droplets staining those petals. "I flipped the sign and closed the curtain. Surelyojou-chanwon't mind, right?"

From the way he crouched to carefully gather the shards of glass, Childe could not make out or even guess what kind of expression Zhongli might have on his face. There was no reply to his remark, and he could sense him walking away to return with a newspaper offered to him. Zhongli then crouched in front of him, taking the wet flowers one by one. Blue eyes peered through fallen bangs to see him wearing the same grim line on his lips but more controlled countenance.

Wrapping the glass shards with the newspaper, Childe stood to put it on the counter while Zhongli took another glass container and filling it with water. The white flowers in his hands created a contrast with his dark palette. Somehow, the image blurred, and he was now looking at a smaller figure with all-too-familiar golden hair and eyes.

Perhaps, Childe thought quietly, if nothing bad ever happened between them and if she was as healthy as she convinced him to be, then standing there would be Lumine, and he would be taking his seat on the usual stool. There would be a smile and soft gleam in her eyes, gentle silence enveloping him, time stood still within each lingering gaze he had on her.

But things happened and he now remembered how Lumine used to cough several times on different occasions. The first time was when Zhongli bought all the glaze lily and him paying for it. The second time was when he was talking with Zhongli outside her shop and the third time was after she took him in for collapsing in front of her shop.

And today, there were coughs with blood.

"How is she?" Childe asked. "What did the doctor say?"

The sound of running water covered the sigh Zhongli made, but Childe caught it from the way those shoulders shifted. The other thing he caught was the dismay contained in his answer, "The doctor has yet to say anything as he needed to further examine her to be sure. Worry not, for Doctor Baizhu is a reliable doctor."

"Did you know about this?" he asked, eyeing the way Zhongli put the flowers into the container and placed it on the table next to the roses. There was a small stumble as he did so. "That she's sick? What kind of illness made her coughing blood?"

Because, surely, it was nothing simple. He had heard of a contagious illness where one would cough up blood from lung disease. But if it was the case with her, then he would have contracted it since he visited her often. The fact that he was healthy was enough to strike that idea away.

"I do," Childe heard a sigh from the man standing beside the table. It sounded heavy and betrayed the composure displayed on his face. "However, it is not contagious, so you can be at ease."

Blue eyes widened, flashing disbelief and a wisp of anger. Childe whirled to him. "How can I–Sensei, I know you know more than just that."

"It is not my place to tell you as it is Lumine's privacy."

"And yetyouknow," Childe shook his head. "This is not the time to keep it secret,sensei."

Somehow, the words came out stronger than he intended, fiercer and uncontrollable in the heap of mixed emotion. There was a snap followed by an abrupt silence falling around them. Childe watched as Zhongli crossed his hands, vibrant eyes narrowed into the same gaze, if not fiercer, that he saw back in Lumine's room.

"Very well, Childe. Allow me to ask you something," Zhongli said after a couple of beats passed. "Depending on your answer, I will choose to answer your question or leave it unanswered."

The nod Childe made felt mechanical. Whether it was because Zhongli's words made it so he was unable to back down or because of his own conviction, Childe did not know.

"What did you regard her as?Whoareyouto her?"

Those questions felt like a slap across his face.

What did he regard her as?

Who was he to her?

"I'm…"

"You're one of my regulars."

No one.

He was just one of her regulars. He was no one significant to her.

Wide eye blinked slowly once, twice, thrice, before breaking its contact with penetrating ambers to land on the white floor. The hand resting on his side clenched hard, tight, and Childe wanted to punch himself for being so lost despite knowing the answer. He was just her customer, an acquaintance at most. He could never go beyond that line.

Especially after what he said to her that night. Being counted as an acquaintance would be too generous of her.

A chuckle ran past his lips, breaking the silence. There was a shift in him, gearing him into the front he never used in front of Zhongli. Childe looked at him. "How about you,sensei? What areyoutoojou-chan?"

Stern gaze did not break or sway. A gleam flashed in those golden-brown orbs as Zhongli replied, unwavering, "Someone she can rely on."

And it was enough for Childe to stop pursuing this matter. No matter what answer he came up with, even if it was a lie, he knew he could never come close to the ideal answer or to what Zhongli was. He knew Zhongli had a good reason for asking such questions. For one, Childe was a part of the Fatui, one of the Harbingers, though he wondered if Zhongli was aware of the latter. Zhongli had the very right to be wary of him even if Childe could not understand why, of all chance and moment, it had to be now. Just when it had something to do with Lumine, why now?

Zhongli seemed to be closer to Lumine than what she claimed to be, felt more like he was her guardian than just her customer and it made sense if it was the case. The way he often mentioned Lumine's brother, the way he cooked her food, the way he visited her often and gave her those roses—it was enough to convince him.

So, yes; compared to Zhongli, Childe was no one to Lumine and, perhaps, it would stay that way until Archons-know-when.

"Then,sensei, at least tell me this," Childe could barely recognize his own voice. It sounded so weak, diffusing quickly to the air like ether. "She'll be okay…Ojou-chanwill recover, right?"

Because that blood unsettled him. Childe was no doctor, but he often got injured, often enough to tell that coughing up blood could mean there was damage to one's internal organ. It was enough for him to see her blood drawn out from that scar on her neck when she could have been uninjured at all. He could not have her sick.

"It will depend on her body," Zhongli replied. "Lumine can be so blind and end up pushing herself past her limit. I believe that is what brought her to her current condition."

Childe leaned back to the workstation, one hand gripping its edge until his knuckle turned white, while the other was itching to grab some cigarette and stuff it to his mouth. The bitterness he felt was far worse than having raw tobacco broken in his mouth. The silence stretching after that was black.

Soon enough the doctor emerged from the door, approached Zhongli with a deep frown across his face and Childe refused to read more into it. He strode into Lumine's room without a word, pulled the chair to her bedside, gathered her cold hands in his heated ones. The slow rise and fall of her chest were not enough to fan down his worry. Again, he let out a heavy sigh and closed his eyes.

Don't go, don't wither…

At some point before he had realized it, Childe had whispered that sentence over and over under batted breaths. To his surprise, Zhongli was standing next to him, or maybe he had been the whole time. The man said nothing, kept his quiet gaze on her. It was a heavy mixture of everything about Lumine and words told by the doctor. He could feel it, if not had been anticipating, that it was not the most favorable news.

Because there was no more muffled worry or fake control of his being; it was all open now. Concern swum and dove deep in those ambers, emphasized with wrinkles between thick eyebrows and lips pursed tight. Childe held his breaths.

"She is overworked and stressed. There are signs of lack of sleep and malnourishment from no proper meal as well," Zhongli said, and Childe knew it was not all there was to her collapse. But he kept his silence, kept the sudden rise of anger contained in his chest, and it died behind his throat.

Instead, he asked, "And the blood?" Because there was no way mere overwork could make her coughing blood.

"It was mostly from nosebleed," somehow it still sounded like a lie to him. "And she has a cough. Her throat is injured from coughing too much, too hard."

A pause. And then, a sigh. "She is not yet moved past her grief. Instead, she chooses to drown it all with work and everything else."

"Her brother's death."

Zhongli looked at him. "So you know."

He nodded. "She told me once."

"Lumine trusts you," Zhongli said quietly after seconds passed.

Childe returned to her, eyes fleeting over agape dry lips and golden heavy lashes, her slow inhale and mute pale profile. He did not know which one was worse; it being painted in artificial red or sickly pale white as it was now. The coldness ghosted over her hand went away as he blew hot breaths spilled in shudders.

The way she was right now, Childe knew he played a role in making her so.

Raw pain and numb disbelief were reflected in her eyes that night, still fresh in his mind, replayed over and over like a broken record of a punishment. It might be just an act on his part, but he knew it was real for her. And even though he had warned her not to trust him, there was a part of him that wanted to stay indulged in her trust.

Jerk. Asshole.

"I don't deserve her trust," he replied to Zhongli eventually, cracks contained in each syllable. It was a fact, something he had come to acknowledge, but it still stung. Bitter. "I've broken it.Ojou-chan… she shouldn't have trusted me, and I shouldn't have interacted with her, to begin with. We stand on different ground, after all."

But he could not help it.

Yes, it was under the pretense of his stupid jealousy over her interaction with Zhongli at first. But then it developed into a casual curiosity. Then…

"Childe, do you care for her?"

It evolved into something else.

"I… do."

He cared for her.

That was why he pushed her away, lied to her, so the connection between them could be severed. So that she would never cross paths with the Fatui again. So she could be safe, away from those who held things against him. And yet Childe was the one who could not follow his own decision—the guilt from hurting her grew bigger each time passed and would not go away.

Where was the Childe who could lightly walk away after deceiving, using people for his own gain?

The sound of rustling fabric tore away a sudden question that appeared in him, leaving it unanswered as Childe glanced to see Zhongli taking off his coat and placed it by the edge of Lumine's bed. The man walked out of the room to return with a plastic basin filled with warm water and a small towel. Childe released his grip on her hand, gave the chair to Zhongli, and watched as the man gently dabbed damp towel over pale face and slender neck.

"Then protect her," Zhongli said, amber eyes flickered to pronounce the gravity in each word. "If you wish to stand on the side of her ground, then you have to keep her safe from those behind you. Make sure not to drag her into yours. That is the price you must pay, for everything has its price to pay."

The laugh Childe let out was ridiculously scornful, piercing. "Sensei, aren't you contradicting yourself? First, you won't let me know anything about her condition and now you talk as if you want me by her side. Forgive me, but you're being a little bit unreasonable here."

"The heart has its reason, which reason knows not," Zhongli responded calmly, deep baritone sailed in a silken wave. "It is not about my wish, Childe, it is aboutyours."

"Mywish is to be byyourside,sensei," Childe retorted, keeping his voice low like a hiss. "I can't drag her into my mess. Not again."

"Going by that reason," Zhongli placed a hand on Lumine's forehead then pulled it back to his lap, "tell me, Childe, what makes it so different to stay by my and her side?"

There was exasperation embedded in Childe's reply, half of it spilled in a rasp, "Sensei, must I remind you? That I likeyou?"

"Childe, this is not the proper time and place to have a discussion about that matter."

He knew. Childe knew this was barely the right time and place to talk about it. Childe knew both should just focus on Lumine, but he could not help it.

"I know I'm being a complete ass now," Childe gritted his teeth, "but I need your answer."

Those amber eyes shifted to him and for a moment Childe thought he saw anger in them. But it went away as they shifted back to Lumine. "I believe I have given you the answer that day, Childe."

"And I gave you the time to consider it."

"Yet there is nothing to consider." Zhongli placed the damp cloth inside the basin. It floated for a moment then sunk as he turned to Childe. His gaze did not break away. "It is not me that you desire. You are mistaking something else as affection and although you do harbor some affection, it is not what you intend to in genuineness. What you have in me is just the feeling of comfort, yet it is not truly what you yearn."

Childe thought of how Zhongli seemed to know things he did not even know about, weary even though there should be nothing weighing him down, grave as though Lumine's condition was the only thing he had in mind. As if she mattered the most. Childe gripped the silence with a bite on his tongue, catching himself from making unnecessary remarks, and exasperation tasted like ash in his mouth when he finally asked, "Then what is it that I really want?"

"That," Zhongli smiled thinly, somehow sad with a speck of old dust graced it, "is for you to mull over. Although it would be good for you to realize it…"

The additional "...before it is too late" trailed away as Childe whirled to step out of the room that suddenly felt too stifling, too narrow, too much. A hand pulled a package of cigarettes out of his pocket and the other searched for the lighter. He pulled open the front door by a crack and sat next to it, hunched back leaning against wall, shoulders heavy and chest throbbed uneasily.

The cigarette tasted unusually bitter, rough on his tongue, a mind-numbing flavor. White fog edging into a gray burst in lazy swirl against artificial lemon scent felt like lingering sadness over the blend of misery, worry, and convulsion. The shop still felt too cold for such a warm day.

Notes:

hello, it's been a while! (・ω・)ﾉ i'm still alive oh my god i finally updated this fic too;;; thank you so much for being patient with my slow writing! i received a lot of comments from last chapter and i thought childe's pov might lessen your intention to bash him on the head..

thank you so much for reading! and as usual, kudos and comments are always motivating me to write more! oh, just a side note, might i interest you in a chilumi zinehere? i'm taking a part in there as a fic writer along with other amazing writers and artists! nye signs out now! see you in the future updates!

Chapter 13: daffodil

Summary:

hopes are bound to end, and all lie to fail eventually

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter fornotes.)

Chapter Text

They were two souls sitting amidst the sea of flowers at some edge of the world, somewhere close to the sky but did not feel all that high above either.

The wind whispered to Lumine a faint hum of a tune; a lull too old to remember but familiar to ears. It washed childhood memory into her before disappearing too quick along with the breeze. When she came to, she was running fingers through Aether's golden hair while Aether entwined one flower to the other into a flower crown. Standing between them was white silence and Aether's thin smile that barely reached sunny eyes.

Her own golden eyes were gazing at the spilled molten gold river running through the length of his back, a wave of bright placidity to the solemn countenance. This hair was used to be arranged in a neat braid by her, or a high bun if the heat became unbearable. All a morning habit before their morning coffee and preparing the shop, but now she could only touch it in her dream.

So Lumine gathered it, fingers worked to weave hair into the braid that used to sway gently with each of Aether's movements. And perhaps it was because of the silence or the hypnotizing sway of flowers around them that got her into thinking how she got there.

Because one moment she opened her eyes to the world bathed in a warm brown hue, flowers in hand but eyes fixed to the indigo swirl of smoke and aphasic lethargy morphed into slack shoulders of a figure outside the shop, and the next moment the room contorted, encapsulated her in the cold darkness. And then she was falling. Deep, deep, down into the void with everything felt calm and safe like home.

But what was a home without Aether, really; a bunch of phantom images sculpting ghost of him, myriads fragments of memory recalling cheerful grin framed by golden tresses, countless hard stumble into the realization that she no longer needed to brew two cups of coffee every morning.

It was not home. And perhaps there was more to that idea—like how loneliness seeped through every crack of hers or sadness piled into a whole depression mess. Although there were moments of someone filling the crack, pulling her back from the depth of ocean that was her mind, subtly yet unconsciously pouring reassurance into her, nothing ever felt enough or right.

The moment she thought of those, she woke up to a familiar voice calling her name. Sunlight refracted into a pair of similar golden eyes staring back at her with worry overflowing and lips tugged into a grim line. Above, the sky was painted blue and endless.

"Brother," she remembered saying that; voice cracking all over, shaky, and coarse. "We meet again."

But she barely remembered if Aether replied to her with anything. Lumine was not even sure what brought her into brushing his hair before braiding it while Aether worked on his flower crown. Maybe there were exchanges made between them that slipped past her or maybe it had been quiet since then.

"Aren't you happy to see me again?"was something she would like to ask him, yet it was hard to utter it with this hovering silence around them as if ready to drown out her words and left it unanswered.

One quiet sigh followed by flowers tucked to decorate his braid and Lumine promptly disregard the heaviness pooling in her chest. The last bunch of unwoven hair, too short to be braided, slipped from her hand. Aether turned to her, then, placing the flower crown on her head, offering a small smile that she could barely return.

A hand found its way to her cheek, rubbing nostalgic warmth on her that made her turn to him. There was hesitation skittering along the edge of Aether's lips before it broke into a frown followed by a heavy sigh. Golden eyes flashed uncertainty and disapproval, all gathered to form a question embedded with too much concern than the joy of meeting her again.

"Lumi, what brings you here?"

It was as if she was the only one missing him.

"I don't know," was the only reply she could muster after a pause, after pushing away the idea to a corner of her head with a feeble smile. The burn at the back of her throat was a full-blown furnace as she spoke, grating prickles all over her chest and hitched breaths. There was an urge to laugh, or perhaps it had slipped past her lips since the beginning.

Even in her dream, herhanahakidid not seem to be releasing its grip on her. Lumine wondered, with fingers clenched on the fabric that was a white dress, how would Aether react if he saw her blue petals.

Surprised?

Pitying?

"Maybe I just missed you too much, that's why I'm here," she continued after swallowing down the urge to wince at the pain with a light laugh. Her smile was threatening to fall off when she felt his hand on her cheek faltered.

The frown on Aether's face did not change. If anything, it only deepened.

"Lumi, you shouldn't—"

"—be here?" she interjected. "I don't understand why you keep saying it but the fact that I'm here now wouldn't change."

She remembered how he told her that the first time opening her eyes to this place, the first time meeting her brother after his death. It had not been that long since then but meeting him again served her as a form of healing. And indeed, she felt better here with him, although his frown was something she would rather not see.

"This is just a dream, and I can't control my dream," Lumine added. "But I'm glad I can see you again even just in a dream. Sometimes reminiscing alone is not enough, you know?"

Aether said nothing to her. His frown remained and Lumine thought it was okay. At least she was not alone in this dream, at least she got to meet him even just for the briefest of a moment.

Lumine pulled herself closer to him, taking his hand in hers as if to imprint the warmth into memory. The sway of white and blue flowers created an illusion of wind passing by. It was a peaceful place—a beautiful garden full of everything suited for Aether.

"Did something happen?" Aether's voice broke the stillness. The shift of his body caused ripples to the watery ground where they sat, sending more movements to the bright flowers.

Lumine would love to say the truth, would love to tell him everything—his diary, Zhongli, the medicine—but even in a dream, she could not bring herself to trouble him. She wanted to see his smile instead of that frown. She would rather have him calling her crybaby again than him worrying about her.

So, again, she put on a smile then leaned to his shoulders to hide the flinch from piercing pain in her chest as she replied, "Nothing. Nothing happened."

Aether turned to her, frown shifted into a small smile that did not reach his eyes.

"Lie," he told her, voice barely louder than a whisper. "You wouldn't be here if nothing happened, Lumi."

"Really?" Lumine laughed. The rumble of her shoulders was a mixture of that forced snicker and searing pain. More of the latter but Aether did not need to know.

A weight gently nestled atop her head—a lean of her brother's head to her own paired with a soft squeeze on her hands. "Be honest with me?" she heard him, then.

It had always been like this. Aether always did this whenever she was upset and clam up. Slow and tender coaxes, murmurs of reassurance until she talked. And they never failed.

"I've read your diary," she started, "and talked with Zhongli. About you, about us, about our illness. I found some of your unsent letters to me and I have so many questions about it."

She remembered the unsealed envelopes. The handwriting trailed into a mess of black ink. The smudged lines and crumpled paper. The uncertainty piled up in those three pieces of paper, overflowing sadness hidden in each corrected sentence. Desperation and helplessness melted into unspeakable suffering.

Golden eyes watched the hypnotizing sway of flowers, forcing those thoughts to fade. Mesmerizing sight revoked a peaceful feeling yet failed to mask the forlornness contained in each blink. Shallow sighs overrode inquiries bubbling in mind. Lumine knew she would not get the answer even if she asked.

After all, this was just a dream. The Aether she had next to her, the one holding her hands, was not the Aether who could answer her questions.

"I'm sorry."

The thumb stroking the back of her hand halted. The barest of stagger followed, then a hitch of his breath. Aether shifted, pulling her into a hug.

"Why the apology," he chuckled, "if anything, I should be the one who apologize to you, Lumi."

For hiding things from her? For leaving her alone? For breaking their promise of staying together forever?

"For what?" Lumine grasped his clothes tight, fingers threading through long golden strands spilled like a river down his back. Her tremble did not cease. The burn suffocated her. It was all too much. "You don—"

Lumine pulled away abruptly, letting hundreds of bones rattle in absence of a restrain, and felt the crawl in her throat. Slow, steady, until unbearable itch broke.

Then, a cough.

Harsh, convulsive coughs into the cup of her hands. Shaky body arched low to bury those fits, to hide them from Aether to no avail and when it stopped, when she pulled away, she saw blue. Molten gold eyes stared blankly at the petals in hands, one by one fell to her lap, without hints of scarlet liquid marring them.

It hurts.

"Lumi…"

"It's okay," she whispered, swallowing down the burn at the back of her mouth, but tears fell down as she blinked, and it was too late for her to hide it.

"No, you're not," Aether cupped her cheek, gently lifting her head and she wondered if his contorted face reflected her own agony that seeped out of the seams. "You're not okay, Lumi."

A heavy sigh escaped her with reluctance and submission riding it. "It's not like I can do anything with it."

But she could.

She could remove the flowers from her lungs. Zhongli had offered it to her, had asked her numerous times to consider it, yet she was being so stubborn. She still clung onto that last ray of hope, forced herself to believe that it would get better with the medicine and that she would fall out of Childe after what had happened between them.

Yet the reality was not very kind to her.

"Which was more important to you, brother?" she croaked out, helplessness threatened to spill out of the confine. "To live without loving and forgetting that person, or to die while having it all?"

Silence answered her and she knew full well about his choice on that matter. Lumine followed Aether's lingering gaze to find it landing on the blue petals scattered on her lap. She found herself counting them slowly, from one to four, and repeating until she reached eight.

Eight petals, as they had always been until it stopped after she consumed the medicine.

"Don't give in, Lumi."

It was a whisper, but there was a hard edge in that gentle voice. Lumine traced the harsh crease formed between Aether's brows, took in the sad glimmer in what used to be a gentle gaze, and let his words stay afloat in her mind. The small tilt of her lips showed more grief than reassurance.

"I know, brother."

And that was the last thing she could say to him before his presence faded away together with the faint clench of his hand around hers. The warmth stayed for a prolonged moment, but it was still far too brief for her. Gentle wind set those blue petals aflutter, dancing in the air with dozens of other white petals. Lumine closed her eyes and felt the ground disappear beneath her.

Then she fell. Down, down, deep into an endless pit until it no longer felt like falling. Moments of things just passed flew away in a sweep of gravity. A dull sense of something like tears and cigarettes clung to her immobile body, dragging her conscience into eventual awakening.

When heavy eyelids unveiled misty eyes, the vast blue sky was replaced by a ceiling a couple meters too low and traces of sunlight trapped on the curtain. The room was drowned in artificial lights, a faint whiff of tobacco, and a sense of lingering dampness and warmth.

For a moment, Lumine wondered where she was now because even if the sight was not all that unfamiliar, it was too abrupt. Mind was still waist-deep in the dream she had about Aether and recalling memories could only get her as far as seeing Aether's frown before falling into a bottomless pit.

What else before that?

Right…

She fainted after coughing, after the loud crash, after a shout of her name.

Then it came to her; the soreness of her throat followed by white, hot pain that shot through her chest. A hand flew to grasp the skin of her chest, mind chanting desperate plea for it to go away while faint whimpers she let out unconsciously only added more to the uncomfortable feeling.

It hurt, it hurt so much.

And it did not pass. It lingered in the prolonged seconds as if torturing her, as if it was herhanahakithreatening her to let more petals flow out of her mouth.

Pain trapped her in a reprise, replaying the pain, the burn, the soreness, while she was begging for it all to stop unceasingly. Something warm grasped her other hand, somewhat comforting and reassuring. Minutes probably had passed with her holding back the urge to cry and when it all gone, all she could see through blurry sight were blobs of color and amorphous shapes.

Things gradually became clearer as Lumine catch her breaths, shaking off panic, shoving away remnants of the scorch. This was her room and Zhongli must have helped her. The latter came to her mind almost naturally. Maybe it was because he was the only one who knew about her situation. Maybe there were other reasons too, but one thing for sure was that Childe would not be the one who did it.

It was simply impossible, and even that did not need any explanation why.

Lumine pushed herself to sit and a damp cloth fell to her lap. Hazy eyes gazed at it blankly, then shifted to the bedside where a basin filled with water was left on the chair next to an unmoving figure. The scent of burnt tobacco suddenly made sense.

Because sitting on the floor, with shoulders hunched, back leaning against the bedside table, and head tilting to the side was Childe.

Surprise erased whatever idea she once had in mind, flooding it with white blankness, a complete astonishment that nailed her to the spot and robbed her breath. Wide eyes traced the outline of ginger hair falling across his face. The constant rise and fall of his chest and the lack of other movements could only mean he was asleep.

Relief came together with her blinking wide eyes, but then came the confusion with a dash of displeasure that became more pronounced at the late realization of how he was holding her hand in his sleep.

So the warmth she felt earlier was because ofthis? Because ofChilde?

Shameless, you're so shameless, Lumine.

Yet even more than that, even with the displeasure threatening a scowl to escape, Lumine could not help but feel a clench in her chest at the sight.

Because although right now she could only see half of his face from her angle, she could see the crinkle between eyebrows, the tilt of lips inching into a grim line. Paired with how her hand somehow found its way within his hold, it gave her the impression that Childe was the one who took her here.

She quickly waved away the idea, silently yelled at herself for thinking that way becausewhy would he?

He could be doing this because Zhongli asked him to or he simply wanted to gain Zhongli's favor. He could do that anytime with any reason for all she cared. But out of all time available in this world, Lumine clenched her teeth, why did it have to be now, right this moment where Lumine was busy nursing her pain?

It was as if everything that happened a few days ago was not enough to show her how he used her, how there was nothing between them, and Lumine was simply being too hopeful. A rub of salt to an open wound was what this was.

The chew on lips probably drew out blood, but she was too used to its taste to even care. Her room felt stuffy all of a sudden. The need to get away rose to the top in disguise of finding Zhongli and getting the medicine.

This whole situation felt too hard to take in.

A sigh escaped dry lips. Those thoughts dissolved in a heap of dull throb, swallowed by the grating burn on the parched throat. Lumine picked the damp cloth to put it back into the water basin, letting it sink quietly, and slipped her hand from Childe's loosened grip.

Everything spun for a while when she stood. Bare feet dug in the coldness of the floor, eyes lingered seconds too long on the sleeping man. Lumine wondered what went on in his head; what kind of excuse would he spout out if she asked, what kind of expression he would have when he speak, then.

Cold? Detached? Or guilt-ridden like that of the other day?

"Ojou-chan, I'm so—"

She turned away sharply, dragging heavy feet into a set of forced footfalls to the kitchen. Water first, then see if Zhongli was somewhere around her house or shop. The man surely had numerous questions about herhanahakiin mind, but if she could convince him that this was not related to it, then he might be lenient about it.

Because, honestly, Lumine was not sure if this was caused by herhanahakior something else. It was easier to connect her cough with it than to speculate other things, but surely something like fainting was not related to illness. It could be because of fatigue.

Lumine sincerely wished so; let this all be caused by the lack of proper meal and sleep, even if the blood would leave a big question.

Warm water slid down her throat, smoothly yet painfully, a treat for the dry throat but stinging all the same. She caught the sight of a pot on an unlit stove, filled with what seemed to be plain rice porridge, and wondered slowly if it was a leftover from dinner last night, then remembered she finished it because she only made a small portion.

Lumine took a glance at it; still warm with a faint haze of steam coming out from the thick food. It could be from Zhongli, but right now food was the last thing in her mind. Appetite was a rarity and even if she did eat, it was purely to refill her energy. Enjoyment was a far-off concept with how nausea trailed close behind every time she ate.

The empty glass was set down on the kitchen counter with Lumine averting her eyes from the food. She found the pot lid and covered it, trapping steam and scent inside, before making her way to find Zhongli and, if memory served her right, clean the mess she made.

The space was a mixture of stagnant air and a sharp ring of silence blanketed in the still darkness. The gentle hum from cooler sailed to Lumine who stood still on the doorway, looking at the nonexistent shattered glass and cecilias, spilled water, and the man with dark long hair anywhere around the shop. Things beyond it, things involving images of indigo haze curling away from burning white stick and ocean eyes amidst windswept hair, were covered by gossamer curtains.

Outside, blushing lilac overtook burning sunset sky, gradually darkened into violet before swallowing every inch of the day and turning it into a blanket of evening. The lamp street flickered on, inviting moths and flies to dance to slowly burn. Shadows fell into the space around her. Darkness enveloped her and only then did Lumine realize the day had slipped into dusk while she could swear it was barely 9 am a moment ago.

How long had she been unconscious?

Lumine made a turn, abrupt, almost tripping over her own foot, to look at the clock. It showed 6.10 pm, maybe 6.12 pm but she could care less about the detail—she had been out for more than nine hours and somehow it did not feel like nine hours had passed. Minutes came and went too quick for Lumine to catch. Time slipped away as easily as those petals slipping through her fingers. The notion of time became more than just an abstract substance; more erratic than heartbeats, running far ahead without letting her catch a breath.

And it did not stop. It never did.

There was an urge to let another sigh slip past her as she leaned against the doorframe, folding arms to cover shivers that suddenly ran through her for no apparent reason. The more she gazed at the curtain, the more she recalled what she saw just before fainting. Images of glitter indigo smoke swirling through lips, widening ocean eyes, the crack in his rigid profile.

She had never seen his surprised face before, not in this regard.

Bare feet padded lightly against the cold floor, taking her closer to the cecilias sitting in a container next to the vase of roses. Splatters of blood no longer stained its pure white petals, but she could recall clearly when it was there. Blood on flowers; it sounded like a bad omen, but she was too used to the sight of blood marring those blue petals to take it that way.

At this point, Lumine wondered if things could go even lower than they already had. She would not think of anything to improve—for her condition to suddenly be good, for her and Childe to return to what once they were. It was easier to expect the bad things than the good ones because when it happened, at least she would not feel too surprised.

And today was just one of those unlucky days she had in life. Just her luck running out.

Wooden stool let out a cry as Lumine pulled it from under the table, bouncing in the room where silence blanketed her as thick as the darkness was. Energy barely contained in her that it was tiring to even stand, and while returning to her room to lie in bed was tempting, being in the same room with Childe in her weakened state was not something she wanted.

Maybe she was being prideful, but as he regarded her as nothing to him—not even anacquaintance—she, too, would try to regard him the same. 'Trying' was the keyword and so far, since the last two days, Lumine had been doing well even if there was this part of her that was hurting. The pain was to be expected but knowing and feeling the consequence were two different experiences.

It always sounded so easy in her mind, so light and smooth within the boundary of her rational head, when it was everything but.

The sigh she had been holding back finally escaped through the split of dry lips. Hot air brushed against cold palms as she propped her arms on the table to bring hands to cover her pale face. Her head was heavy, and the labored breaths made it harder to not slump against the table surface.

In the end, she lost to the temptation. Right cheek met the cool surface while one hand rubbed her chest to ease the ever-growing constricted sensation. Dim golden eyes stared at the counter, at the basket sitting next to the cash register where she stored all her petals. Memories of when Childe picked up one of them and examined it came up to her. He used to say it had good color and that she did a good job dyeing it.

A snort escaped her. Maybe Childe was right. They did have a good color and shedida good job dyeing it. Of course. After all, it was all done with love—never halfheartedly done and with an amount that certainly exceeded what should be.

Even now, Lumine knew she would pathetically nod if she were asked whether she still love him. Even with frustration and disappointment lingering deep in her, that feeling stayed persistently, unchanging.

I am and that's exactly why I'm an idiot.

The push she did to change her position back to sitting straight was lethargic. The deep inhale and slow exhale following was accompanied by a bruising twinge that lingered. It was seizing, but at least it felt more bearable compared to when she first regained consciousness earlier.

Lumine then began to wonder, as she watched the clock's longhand marched on unperturbed, what she should do now that Zhongli was not here. She needed the medicine, believed that these fits were caused by the lack of the medicine and if she needed to wait until tomorrow…

What if those petals come out again?

The swallow on her dry throat was a hard one. Mind started to scream things to her, things like what if their amount increased the next time she coughed? What if the medicine had no effect after she skipped a day? What if her body repelled the medicine? What if the medicine had never worked, to begin with?

There were too many what-ifs resounding in her head. Too many scenes not yet happening but felt as though they were definite; things that only existed within the boundary of her mind but bled through invisible loose seams all over her. They danced in an agonizing adagio, staying for the longest moment possible to engrave unease on heavy shoulders.

In the end, Lumine could only sigh heavily while trying to push away those intrusive thoughts. There was no use in thinking too much about it. Be it today or tomorrow, Zhongli would come and give her the medicine, and everything would return to how they usually were.

Everything would be okay. It should be.

Perhaps that was one effective self-assurance, a lie that Lumine let herself blindly believe and hold onto until things showed her the other way. And those intrusive thoughts could reappear anytime if she sat still like this so Lumine had no other choice but to move, to work, to focus on something else.

There was no mess to clean or flowers to arrange. No orders to make or things worthy of note to log other than the arrival of flowers from Mondstadt. The most she could do was to put the cecilias within rows of displayed flowers and water Aether's potted plants. And they did not even take ten minutes before Lumine returned to the stool, once again enveloped in silence while she waited for uncertainties.

Tired eyes traced circular marks on the table surface, damages caused many months ago from clumsy hands paired with a hot cup. Her mind would have flown to the memories from a year ago where Aether spilled his coffee on the table if not for a voice tearing off the thick silence, sending a jolt to shape her figure to rigidity.

"You should be resting," he remarked, voice a mixture of a heavy gulp of air and rush. Lumine might have missed the quiver contained in there amidst the wave of surprise, but she could never shake off the way it sounded almost like he was relieved.

Or maybe it was all just in her head. There was no way Childe would think that way.

For the longest time, there was nothing that came out of her to respond to that remark. The drone of silence stood around them with Lumine refusing to break the neutral stance her profile had transformed into. Ten seconds passed, and then sixteen, twenty. More and more until she lost count but there were no signs of him moving, walking,anything.

For once, all was good. All was bearable with Lumine forcing herself to focus on the dark outline of the roses in the vase to ignore Childe's presence. That, until came his question, "What are you doing here?"

"What areyoudoing here?" Lumine returned the question accompanied by a poor attempt to laugh. It sounded like strangling than laughing and her throat scorched once again. "Why are youhere?"

There was a shift at the edge of her sight, a movement inching closer into the periphery of her vision until a pair of deep blue eyes came to sight. Childe sat across her, elbows rested on the table and hand moved the vase to the side. It felt uncomfortable now that Lumine was conscious of his gaze on her.

Under the low light, things were a mess of dull colors and thin contours. A whole lot of misery kept hidden under invisibility and discomfort manifested in fingers rubbing together. Lumine avoided his figure, and as the dusk grew darker, the only light source was that orange streetlight filtered through the thin curtains. It made his orange hair stand out, hard to ignore.

And maybe there was more than just his hair. His eyes, for example. Under the dark veil, they looked like it sported unspoken misery and guilt hanging by a thread. But it could be just her imagination.

"Senseiasked me to watch over you," he explained, voice slowly diminished as he added, "he went back to get something for you."

Dejection was the only thing Lumine heard from his answer. It was clear that he was looking forward to spending his day with Zhongli and not nursing someone who carelessly fainted because of the improper meal and lack of sleep.

I never asked you to help me.

"I'm okay now so you can return," Lumine said quickly then pushed herself to stand. Her legs might wobble under the weight of her body, feet stinging cold against the floor, but she steadied herself; a hand gliding over the wall and stopped as it found the lamp switch.

White light washed away all shadow with a click, painting brightness on her face and making it unnecessarily paler than it actually was. Lumine could easily sense the lingering gaze of those blue eyes on her. It was too familiar to simply be ignored, too intense to be waved off, and she rekindled memories from when it used to feel reassuring.

"You're still not fully recovered," was what she heard then. And it was a fact. Lumine would have had openly agreed if not for the fact that the last thing she needed was this man's presence around her.

Lumine turned to him, swinging one numb foot into faking indifference. Golden orbs cautiously slid over the white floor, table, fisting hands, and found the pair of azurite orbs staring back at her. A glimmer of question she dared not guess swum freely in that deep ocean. Lumine responded him with silence before decided to speak, letting her words slam him with a thin smile offered.

"And you're a stranger."

There was a shift in his figure; subtle jerks and twitches that traveled on the edge of the jaw, a bob of Adam's apple, and hitched inhale. It all gone the moment he stood abruptly, "He trusted me to—"

"ButIdon't," Lumine interjected, biting back a snarl at the base of burning throat, maintaining a calm gaze to Childe's perturbed one. "Who was it who told me not to trust easily?"

He did.

Twice.

Somewhere a week ago and then that night. Lumine should have known better than to put trust in him, should have kept her distance from him, should have stayed on her side and not crossed the line. But it only took a couple times of seeing him for her to fall for him, some mornings or evenings spent together to make her trust him. She had foolishly believed that it was all genuine, naively hoped there was a meaning to all that.

But those kind gestures were all lies. She should not be disappointed, but here she was, feeling bitter and seething.

After all, to be deceived and betrayed never resulted in a good feeling.

"You're right," he said, at last, lips formed a grim smile. Voice was too quiet and subdued; shoulders were once again looked like they held weights invisible for eyes to see. Childe let out a small chuckle. It did not sound like anything like how he was that night. "I did, didn't I?"

It sounded like regret more than mockery, submission more than ridicule. Lumine caught slack hand forming a fist, a glimpse of the taut jaw that became slack together with narrowing eyes. He looked as though crumbling when she should be one who did.

Was this another act?

"Sometimes I wonder," Lumine forced out a burst of mock laughter, covering invisible bruises deep in her chest as she walked back to the stool, "if there was anything close to the truth in anything you've done here."

Like when he comforted her, for example, or when they shared quiet mornings together, or when he offered to help her with her work.

Anything?

"Or was it all an act to put my guard down so you could use this place for whatever Fatui business you had?"

The stool created a grating sound against the floor as Lumine pulled it to make her seat. There was not much distance between them, just a table away, a piece of wood between them but it felt like their distance had grown. Maybe it was her words, or maybe it was his silence. Maybe it was better to be this way—back to her side even if her feelings were anywhere but.

"I had to."

Lumine sighed. "Of course."

"It's true, I—"

"Does deceiving me is all you can do?"

Wide blue eyes stared at her, sharp, and for a moment, she thought he would snap. But he did not. Childe simply returned to his seat after a sigh as Lumine clasped her hands together on her lap. A moment passed with neither of them saying anything, with mild headache pounding on her head, and the idea of eating made her sick to the gut.

Lumine wanted him to just go away so she could celebrate her bad luck to her heart's content. Yet all words were lost in silent gaze landing on circle damages on table and fingers fiddling the hem of her clothes relentlessly. The urgent need to be alone painted her mind in awful tangents, adding to the anger and unease, manifested in rigid stance and heavy chest.

And then it occurred to her. This anger… was it directed purely at him?

(Are you sure?)

Or was it actually at herself?

(For letting things turn this way, for snapping at Childe, for making Aether struggle alone—all that she had regretted deeply but left unresolved, piling at some corner of her mind.)

"I lied that night," a deep voice sailed toward her, a quiet tear to the thick silence hanging around them, "I had to."

Lumine found her voice, found his eyes, found nothing but something she had never seen in him swirled in them.

Sadness? Regret?

Why now?

"Why?"

And it did not fade away. Although the shift of his posture was now spelling nonchalant and ease—a tilt of his head, drumming fingers on the table surface, a casual swept of his gaze away from hers—the same could not be said with his voice.

"Would you believe me if I say I did it to protect you,ojou-chan?"

Somehow, it sounded like it was the truth. Lumine wanted to believe in it, wanted to believe that what she saw in his eyes were not lies, yet there was this part of her that screamed at her not to trust him. It might be just another lie to further lower her guard so he could worm his way into her again.

But Childe had never left from the crack in her, had never completely gone even with this happened between them. As much as she wanted him to go away, there was always a feeling of relief, comfort when he was around.

So what was the need to be wary of him?

(He could be lying again.)

I know.

(He could be trying to use you again.)

She knew.

Lumine wondered how much truth was contained in those words, how much sincerity and honesty were present behind that mask. For all she knew, there could be nothing but lip service in there.

(Remember that he told you not to trust him.)

Everything was a mess in her head now.

"Aren't you tired of lying, Childe?"

Perhaps her lips formed a thin smile as she spoke. Perhaps it did not reach her eyes for Lumine could feel the emptiness within her trembling voice calling his name. It tasted bitter, felt as though there was mud filling her mouth; a nauseating taste bringing more headache and reignited scorching throb in the chest.

Shudders ran along her rigid body, forcing her to sigh heavily, quietly through dry lips. Lumine could be deceiving herself with that question and frantically hoped that Childe would convince her otherwise because she had enough of lies. It was suffocating enough with her trying to hold onto her wish that she was okay, even more so to the lies she told Childe days ago; that she hated him, that she wished she had never helped him.

And to always suppress her feelings for him from leaking out, to keep her illness from him, to pretend indifference when all she wanted was Childe to look at her, regard her the way she did to him no matter how small the possibility was.

So now Lumine wished for him to deny her words, for one more rebuttal from him and it could probably free her from her own doubts on him.

But he did not.

"Right," he breathed out half a laughter. It tumbled down quick with how the other half was following in no more than a whisper, "I'm sorry."

All fell into another round of silence with Lumine averting her gaze. There was something heavy in his apology as though he did not just mean it for this. It could be the persistent feelings she had for Childe that made her think so. It could also be because of the exhaustion that slowly tightened its grip around her, making her wish everything to just end and return to how things once were.

Should she push on with this anger?

Lumine wanted to.

But the prickly sensation behind her eyes chased it away, clouding her vision into a blur, a mess of lights and silhouettes that did not disappear from her mind even after she closed her eyes.

The room was quiet with just a stagnant mechanical hum fading in and out of her. When Lumine opened her eyes again, Childe was staring at her with a frown that certainly was not there a moment ago, a hovering hand across the table, an odd silence echoing in her ears, a damp feeling in her eyes.

Why the tears?

(Does it hurt? Unable to convince yourself to trust him; does it hurt that much?)

Then why did not she forgive him already? Was it her pride? Her ego?

Can everything just end already?

She was tired.

So, so tired of everything that happened to her, of putting up with what seemed to be a fit of meaningless anger over things that could be discussed properly. It brought nothing to her, only further draining her energy, sucking it dry until she was left with nothing but vast emptiness that made her crumble. And with no one to hold onto, it would be just a matter of time until she completely broke down.

Tension had flown away. In its place were immense exhaustion and a noisy voice at the back of her head screaming how she should not have done this. Head bowed low, Lumine stared at hands on her lap as tears fell quietly without her breaking a noise. It did not feel like crying at all, nothing like anger or sadness could be distinguished from whatever contained in her chest. Those tears just fell without her knowing exactly why.

A presence came to her, entering the field of vision through the periphery and it was the same blue eyes, the same frown, the same complex of expression across a grim face. Lumine glanced to him amidst all blur and almost missed the way those eyes narrowed. A hand raised almost hesitantly before it fell down to the side as he crouched.

"Ojou-chan," his whisper fractured the cold stillness, bringing her attention away from pounding headache, adding more weight to her chest. "Is it okay if I touch you?"

Wet golden eyes blinked slowly. Heavy droplets of tears fell each time as Lumine tried to form an answer only to fail miserably. Words were swimming in her mind, a perfectly concise answer of"yes, you can"that felt odd after all that anger. Yet it was caught at the tip of the tongue, hanging by an invisible thread before it all dissipated altogether. In the end, a wordless nod was all she replied to him with.

Warmth emerged from where he touched her; a fleeting brush of thumb over her clenched hand, slowly unfolding it to reveal nail marks carved to the skin. Lumine watched the frown across his face grew deeper before his eyes caught her and it turned into a small, weary smile.

"This isn't a good time for us to talk," he said eventually, catching her tears and shaky breaths. It sounded soft, unbelievably gentle after things she said to him.

A nod along a weak sigh escaped her. Heartbeats rumbled deep within while Lumine tried to fight off the itches and nudges against her ribcage. The warmth enveloping her hands stayed for another minute before it moved to chase away coldness on the damp cheek, fingers wiping off traces of tears.

"You should be resting,ojou-chan," another soft voice reached her; too soft, too kind. Like a concern. Like a beautiful lie.

"I—"

"We'll talk about this later," he cut her as if knowing what she was about to say. "We still have time."

Time.

Lumine wanted to laugh.

She did not have such luxury. Not with howhanahakihad her in its tight grip, not with the ivy crawling all over to root her to the place. Time was running far ahead while she was stuck on chasing the impossible wish. But even with all this making her sick, she would never let Childe know about herhanahaki.

So Lumine swallowed heavily, subtly, then whispered, "Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," Childe nodded, "and no more lies."

No more lies.

Golden eyes strayed away from blue. She let herself lean slightly to the hand which cupped her cheek, absorbing more warmth in hope of keeping some of it permanent within her.

A sudden sound of knocks pulled her away from the daydream, letting go of that warmth as Lumine glanced to the front door then back at Childe. For a moment, for the briefest of the second, Lumine thought she saw a dreary look running past his face. But it was short-lived, or she could be seeing it wrong because there was nothing different from Childe as he stood and walked to unlock the door.

Merry ring of bell bounced around the room as the door swung open, subtly reminding her of how today would have been going if she did not faint. Yet everything had come to this; there was no use in fretting over things beyond her control.

Waves of relief rolled to her when she saw the man she had been waiting for was standing there. A brief exchange, wordless greeting, was shared by both men before amber found golden. Lumine offered him a small smile, trying to hide whatever remained from her unceremonious cry a while ago.

"Lumine," Zhongli called and there was a hint of hurry in his voice even though his profile spelled nothing but collected composure. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay, Zhongli," she replied immediately, watching him setting down a small bag on the table before taking his seat across her. Behind him, Childe stood unusually far away; one hand dove into a pocket as he leaned to the wall. Lumine returned to Zhongli, "Just a mild headache and a bit of sore throat."

Perhaps she should not have mentioned the latter, for Lumine could immediately feel a stare coming from Childe. He must have seen the blood, must have heard her coughing before she collapsed.

Then she froze.

Did Zhongli tell him about her illness? About herhanahaki? What if he did? What if Childe knew—

A cool sensation brought Lumine back from frantic thoughts, back to see Zhongli studying her carefully as she realized a bit late that it was his palm touching her forehead that felt cool. Eyes blinking slowly, Lumine tried to keep her composure and hold herself from glancing at Childe.

"There is no fever," Zhongli said, his hand pulled away to return folded on the table, "however, you should be resting instead of staying here."

Small chuckles slipped past her at the frown Zhongli made. "I was waiting for you," a smile, "thank you for coming. And for helping me too. It must be difficult to move me to my room."

It was a joke, obviously. She had expected refusal from Zhongli, being the gentleman he was, or a lecture on how she should eat more because there was no way she was heavy with how her unhealthy diet had been going for days. Yet nothing was indicating one of those. Rather, etched on Zhongli's profile was plain confusion of an arched eyebrow and wide amber eyes looking at her in question.

Then as though it just clicked in Zhongli's head, he smiled at her. "I see. However, it was not—"

"Sensei."

There was a sharp edge riding in the sudden call Childe made, something closer to a warning than just a means to gain Zhongli's attention. The man sitting across her turned to him, a hint of pleasure apparent in his voice as he asked, "What is it, Childe?"

"I have to go now that you've arrived," Childe said after a pause as if it was not what he had in mind for calling him. But even if it was the case, Lumine could barely pick up anything from that slack smile and casual stance. If anything, the current Childe was a complete opposite to the Childe before Zhongli came.

"Of course," Zhongli nodded. "Thank you, Childe."

Childe pulled the door open; body froze mid-step before he glanced back at him, at her. The smile he drew out felt off, barely reaching those ocean eyes—

A false smile?

"It's nothing big,sensei." There was dismissal carried in the ring of voice, one that disappeared after the last syllable ended as he held his gaze on her. Something shifted, then; a subtle drift inside those pooling blue that came up together with him saying, "Rest well,ojou-chan."

The door was closed shut with a soft thud and an echoing ring of bell followed. It faded from ears before silence took over for the umpteenth time for Lumine and she wondered why she had yet to feel sick of it. Because right now she was not alone? Because she was too sick to actually care?

The possibilities were endless.

"Did you tell him?" she asked quietly, voice dropped low to the point where exhaustion could be heard in it. "About my illness?"

Zhongli shook his head. "I did not."

A breath of relief blew past pale lips. A murmur of"Thank you"faded away too quick with her noticing the shift in Zhongli's profile. What used to be neutral amber eyes were now clouded by grim as if that calmness he displayed when Childe was there was just a facade.

It made her nervous.

"Is something wrong?" Lumine asked cautiously, voice no louder than a murmur with hesitation gripping her around the neck. "Do you have the medicine? I haven't had my dose today since I fainted this morning."

Her hand moved to reach out to the bag sitting on Zhongli's side of the table, only to come to a halt as Zhongli spoke, "Lumine, did you keep something from me?"

The question felt like a heavy brick on her shoulders, adding more clench into her chest, her lungs, and nails dug deep into the skin to cover the pain. Tired eyes studied the man silently, noticing the way those gem-like eyes stared at her unwaveringly as if saying"Tell me the truth". But what more she could say? It was as though Zhongli had already known the answer and that question was a confirmation than suspicion.

Lumine should have known that this question would come sooner or later. After all, hopes were bound to end, and all lie to fail eventually.

"You have to be more specific," was what she responded to him with, all weary smile and dismissive tone and Lumine hated herself for being so pitiful, "because I keep a lot of things all to myself."

It was not just one thing. Lumine kept a lot of everything in her, bottling them up until it broke, and she needed to bottle them up again. And the cycle repeated. Again, and again and again until doubts piled up and things came to a dead end.

"Lumine…"

"I coughed, but there was nothing with it. No petals, no blood until suddenly there was blood. More blood. And then nausea and headache," she recounted, and everything was a vivid memory. The frown on Zhongli's face deepened as she gazed at him, probably showing more sadness and despair than she intended in her look. "And then this."

"You were aware of those negative side-effects," Zhongli sighed, "yet you did not tell me."

"I didn't want to trouble you." Lie. It was a lie because more than anything, Lumine wanted to cling onto her false hope, to the illusion that it would get better with time.

But time had never once been merciful to her.

"You promised me."

"I know," her smile wavered to mask the sting with a heap of tired laughter and wheezing mess. Lumine started to count the lies she had told him—she was fine, nothing was out of the ordinary, the medicine worked perfectly on her, not wanting to trouble him…

There was too much and Lumine knew Zhongli did not deserve these lies.

The weak laughter died quick. All left was a painful inhale and a murmur, "I'm sorry, Zhongli."

There was nothing more that she could say. Anything more than this would become a poor excuse—things like she did not know that the coughs and blood were a sign of side-effect or the inkling at how the medicine did not work the way it did with him.

Zhongli said nothing to her apology, and she supposed it was okay. He had the right to be mad at her, to feel disappointed at how it seemed like she did not trust him because despite the effort he had done to mend their relationship, this was what he got in return. Lumine was selfish in this regard, arrogant too. There would be nothing she could do if he hated her because of this.

The night was cold with neither of them saying anything, with Lumine tracing an invisible line across her skin to ignore the pounding headache and burn at the base of her throat. A sigh was all she could hear from Zhongli, close to making her flinch in alarm. It was heavy in something closer to an acute sense of urgency and hesitation rather than anger.

"I cannot allow you to continue consuming the medicine," Zhongli said, at last, tapping gently into the silence, diffusing it in a wave of warm tone that felt like a conclusion to her.

Lumine had expected this, understood that this decision did not stem from his personal feelings toward her attitude. Yet despite that, she could not help but refuse to back down so easily. Shaky exhales incited shudders across her body. The coldness sunk into her together with the echo of his statement in her ears.

"I still want to try," she said, eyes meeting Zhongli's in the hope he could catch the determination in there. "I didn't have enough sleep and proper meal lately. This might be caused by that and not the side-effect of the medicine. I could be wrong, Zhongli.Youcould be wrong."

It was a possibility, and in a mass of desperation, this was the only thing she could think of as a backup. As weak as it sounded, it was the truth that she had not been able to sleep or eat properly. And while Zhongli might not know it as she had been keeping it to herself, she knew he would consider it.

"Indeed, Doctor Baizhu told me you were malnourished and severely stressed," Zhongli hummed, putting a hand on his chin as if mulling over it. But then, he shook his head. "However, it is a fact that the medicine did not work with you."

A rebuttal was hanging by the tip of her tongue, but everything came to a halt when Zhongli pulled out something from his pocket and set it down on the table. A white handkerchief, and while it did not strike Lumine as something out of the ordinary, the red spot did. The slight nod from him told her to take it and only then did she realize there was something behind its fold.

Sitting under the thin fabric was a small flower bud.

A small,blueflower bud.

Wide eyes blinked once, twice, thrice, before they looked up at Zhongli then back at the blood-smeared flower bud. It was a familiar color to the eyes; one that used to greet her each time she woke up, that was filling the small basket next to the cash register, that painted the twin orbs a beautiful shade of ocean.

"This is…"

"The last stage ofhanahakiis marked with coughing up flowers," Zhongli explained. Morose tone marked the gravity of the situation and Lumine tried to focus on his voice that seemed to fade away each second passed. "That flower bud came from you."

Realization painted her mind blank. Hot dread pooled deep in her stomach with her chest clenching painfully. A wheeze sounded like laughter fell out as her eyes shut tight and her fingers clutched her chest. Somewhere, a faint clatter resounded and before she knew it, Lumine was coughing again.

Hard, heavy, relentless. Warmth spilled on her hands, dripping down to her clothes as blurry sight took in the deep red and a speck of blue amidst it. Trembles traveled across her swaying figure, steadied by a pair of hands holding her in place.

"The last stage...?" Lumine could barely recognize her own voice as it cracked, mixed with painful sobs and disgusting taste of blood. Tears dripped down as she clenched her hands, willing herself to crush the bud but too weak to do so.

Zhongli said nothing and she disliked his silence, but she knew his answer would just add more ache to her. There was a sense of floating, a squeak of something before water washed away all the blood from her hand to reveal the lone flower bud. The white handkerchief was now stained red as Zhongli wiped the blood off her lips.

Lumine looked down at the bud then at Zhongli, studying the way composure was no longer a part of his profile. In its place was a tense jaw and knitted eyebrows, a mixture of gloom and something storming in amber eyes that felt like he did not dare to look at her.

Was it guilt?

"Zhongli…" she called, and he looked up at her. It was guilt. Guilt and remorse and pain. Trembling lips formed a crooked smile, bearing the weight of words swirling in her mind as tears cascaded down her cheek. And then, a whisper, "I'm dying… right?"

His grip on her tightened. A twitch of eyebrows was followed by a deepening frown. He set her down back on the stool while Lumine tried to stop the tremble. In the end, it was just her wrapping her arms around her body and Zhongli crouching in front of her, catching tears with nothing said to her question.

Maybe Lumine heard him murmuring something like"Please wait"and"I apologize for intruding"because then he stood the walked away. She failed to notice where he went as she was trying to stop these tears from falling. But the pain in her chest and head was too much for her to bear. Noiseless whimpers were everything she could do to suppress it from being too much.

A spoon filled with brown liquid came to hazy sight. Zhongli returned in front of her, crouching, as he said, "Please drink this. It can help with the pain."

Bitterness washed away the tangy taste of blood, running through her burning throat in one painful swallow followed by some gulps of water. While she knew the effect would not be immediate, the water at least eased the grating ache. The water glass was set down on the table as Lumine stared mutely at Zhongli.

The answer, her mind screamed at her amidst the thumping ache, she needed some explanations.

"Lumine, the medicine did not work with you," he started, brushing away strands of hair stuck on wet face, letting tears slide down his fingers. "The side-effects you speak of are not caused by the incompatibility of the medicine with your body. They are the symptoms of the last stage ofhanahaki."

"Then j-just now…?"

"It was not the same medicine," the cold hand settled on her cheek and Lumine allowed herself to lean into it, "it was a painkiller."

The word rang in her ears, echoing aloud in her mind.

Painkiller…

"Why?"

The grim look across his face did not disappear. On contrary, those amber eyes narrowed as if contemplating whether to answer her or not. Maybe he was considering her condition, but she needed to know.

In the end, Zhongli told her, breaking harsh news carefully, "The last stage ofhanahakiis the most painful one. Although each person has a different level of pain tolerance, consuming painkillers is advised."

Her pain tolerance was not that low if she could measure it herself, and between her and Aether, hers would be higher than Aether's. Then it occurred to her.

Aether.

He had a weak constitution since they were young, was always prone to illness, and easily fell sick with the change of environment or weather. If hers was hurtthismuch…

Then what about brother?

And he was alone. He endured it all alone without receiving medicine or help from anyone knowledgeable abouthanahaki. He did not even tell her until his last letter urging her to return, did not explain anything as he lied on the bed drenched in a cold sweat and pale face lacking life.

"Lumine, please take the surgery."

Zhongli's words pulled her back from reverie, sounded like it was a final verdict when it was a plea. Lumine froze. Hovering hand slowly fell back to her lap in a tight clench. Bright eyes strayed from Zhongli's patient stare, gliding through anything that was not him. Somewhere along with the silence, the tears had stopped falling but it felt painful still.

Lumine came to realize that there was no other option to her illness; no medicine could cure her and even those painkillers were just a means to alleviate the pain. There was nothing to herhanahakiother than painful coughs and eventual blooming flowers. Nothing.

But would she be able to bear the idea of losing her memory? Losing the ability to love?

Love came in many shapes and forms. Zhongli had told her that before and Lumine he was the living proof of the outcome of the surgery. There was nothing amiss from him—Zhongli still retained his emotion under his composed demeanor, able to befriend Childe and regard her as a family even after the surgery.

So what was it with the hesitation creeping around her?

"Three days," she finally spoke. "Give me three days to make my decision."

Zhongli found her hand and held it gently, a soft brush of his thumb against her white knuckle to ease the tension she did not realize she had. Concern swam deep in amber pools, and it was a quiet voice that replied to her, "We don't have much time, Lumine. Don't be reckless."

Lumine knew reckless and she also knew that hasty decision would result in regret. She still had things to talk about with Childe tomorrow and if she disappeared and reappeared suddenly without memories of him…

"Please? I just… don't want to regret anything."

After all, it was her life. It was hers to decide and she did not want whatever she chose in the end to be a big regret.

Lumine had had enough of regret already; she did not need another one to top it.

"Very well," she heard Zhongli sighing, "I will wait for your answer on the following Monday."

What came after that passed her by a blur. Perhaps it consisted of Zhongli's advice on getting more rest after she ate dinner, taking a day off tomorrow if she did not feel fit enough, and a reminder to take the painkiller every morning. She was sure there were more than just those three, but whatever it was, it would not be too important.

Zhongli left and once again, after what seemed to be hours of conversation, things fell back into a timeless quietude. Flowers on display sitting quietly and the faint hum of cooler soothed her. The walk back to her room was slow and heavy and only when she closed the door behind her did Lumine allow herself to sink to her knees, letting all bones and sore joints rattle mutely.

Three days.

Lumine only had three days to make her decision. Three days to fully understand what she wanted, three days before she lost her memory of Childe and be robbed of her ability to love.

It sounded stupid when Lumine realized how she was clinging so much to the notion of love, sounded unbelievably naive and selfish.

And yet she loved him.

Lumine wanted Childe to look at her the way she looked at him.

But would it be possible for such a change to happen in three days? Their talk tomorrow could be the point where the change happened—either they grew closer or became estranged from each other. Knowing the nature of his job, Lumine was sure it would be the latter. And if things came to the latter—

What am I living for?

Shudders ran across her as Lumine gathered her knees, pulling them to her chest to bury heavy head into it. The bowl of porridge sitting next to her tasted bland on her tongue after a couple of bites. The familiar faint tobacco scent brushed her nose and just like that, the day where she realized that sometimes it was better to nip the bud before it bloomed passed by with her clutching the blue flower buds tight.

Notes:

hello! it's been three months since the last update so I want to apologize for the long delay. uni has me on its grip so I can't find the time to write as much as I did a few months back. even so, thank you so much for being so patient with my slow writing

thank you for reading! as usual, kudos and comments always brighten my days! I might not be able to reply to all comments but believe me, I read each and every one of them and it never failed to boost my mood. see you in the future updates!

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Chapter 14: mimosa

Summary:

"Maybe I just don't want to lose you."

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter fornotes.)

Chapter Text

There was a gentle ring like a windchime echoing somewhere in Lumine's dream, a subtle scent of old wood and morning dew, a sense of fuzzy grass under her feet.

A soft breeze sailed through the world of white, brushing against her to sweep hair aflutter and golden eyes cracked open to take in the sight. Sunlight showered the world around her, gradually carving corners and textures, colors and shapes; all felt like a vivid remembrance of something far off. There was green under her feet and blue far above. Shadows from canopy pooled beneath trees and flutters of white came to sight—lines of linen hung on wooden laundry rack and a glimpse of a child standing between. Small steps along the wall of fabric then he disappeared with the breeze.

Lumine watched the slowly materializing of a building that stood behind the swaying fabrics. Wooden wall and geometrical pattern window screens, fading gray roof tiles, and hanging red lampions. The scenery felt strikingly unfamiliar yet nostalgic at the same time; like it had happened once but slipped away from her mind.

What was it?

Aureate orbs landed on the empty spot amidst the swaying linen, searching for the remnants of a small figure of sun-kissed hair and pale-white skin. Her mind recalled glimpses of him before he walked away as if vanishing into the thin air.

That boy, he…

He looked familiar, felt familiar, and if that long golden hair was weaved into a braid, then—

The last reverb of chime faded away together with the steadily dissolving scenery. Faint merry laughter roused something in mind, tapping a dormant memory of little Aether pulling her to play around the white fabrics hung under the sun from one summer day years ago.

Ah, yes.

Same place, same scenery—the orphanage she grew up in together with Aether.

The ring of childish voice dimmed. All became dark with a nudge of tranquil awakening seeping into her to reassemble reality. Long lashes quivered and pale eyelids lifted, revealing glossy eyes that were still locked in the vivid memory of that grassy ground and a pair of warm hands taking hers to find blushing shy flowers and making messy flower crowns.

When everything settled, the scene broke into shadows hanging on the ceiling and a dim room rough on its contour. The faint light of daybreak was captured by the curtains, some came pouring in through its crack to land on the floor in a soundless glow. All was serene, a soft lull into the prolonged slumber if only prickles did not emerge from somewhere within her.

The push she gave to herself was heavy with a faint headache trailing behind. Golden eyes blinked slowly, willing the sleepiness away before sweeping along the side of her bed. An empty bowl and a small bag were sitting on the bedside table, an untouched basin of water on the chair, an odd sense of wonder that there used to be something else filling the awkward space next to the chair. Everything felt out of place, but then memories from yesterday came to the surface.

A hand raised to cover her mouth, catching a hot breath of a sigh, before it ran through the messy hair and caught in tangled knots. Downcast eyes stared at the pooling blanket on the lap as Lumine recounted things from yesterday.

Yesterday was… a mess.

Fainting then awakening, anger then exhaustion. A talk with Zhongli and flower buds. Painkillers. Three days.

Three days.

Lumine only had three days left before Zhongli forced her into the surgery. The man did not say it, but she knew he would. And although she would definitely resist, there was a part of her that would not mind if he did—the part that still believe that Aether would not want her to throw away her life so easily, the part that still hope she could, at least, retain her ability to love.

She thought that it would not be so bad, then.

Her bare feet welcomed the coldness of the floor as she walked in wobbly steps to the bathroom. What awaited her in the sink were two blue flower buds marred in dry blood. Lumine could barely remember anything from last night before she shut down; before everything became warm and peaceful again in her dream. Maybe she put those buds there to deal with it the next day or maybe she wanted to forget about them. The urge to throw them away was immense, yet in the end, she washed all the blood off and placed it on the bedside table next to the bag Zhongli left last night.

Looking in, there was a folded paper inside the bag along with some familiar paper pockets. Neat, calligraphic handwriting glided across the smooth paper, assembling words into black sentences and white meaning; a monochrome verisimilitude weighed too heavy on her shoulders.

Lumine,

These painkillers should be able to help you to suppress the pain from hanahaki. Please consume it twice a day: in the morning and evening, with each dose diluted in 50 ml of water. Do keep in mind this is not the medicine to keep the hanahaki from growing, nor was it a replacement to the previous medicine. There should be no side effects as I have tested it myself beforehand. However, suppose there were side effects, please tell me right away as I will reformulate it.

Lumine let out a laugh, yet it sounded like the air was caught in the windpipe instead. A slow blink of eyes chased away haze from the field of vision as it captured a line of what was written. Twice a day; she had to have two doses of it each day. Was the pain that bad that she needed to drink it twice? She had experienced it last night—the suffocation, the burn, the sharp pain—but even she got better with just drinking one.

One dose should be enough, no?

But, then again…

Don't be so confident.

Even the previous medicine could not really slow the progression of herhanahaki. Drinking two doses of the painkiller might be the minimum amount of what her body needed or the maximum intake her body could manage each day. Twice a day was the amount suggested so she better stick to it, better stick to Zhongli's word because—

"We do not have much time left."

They did not have much time left; hell,shedid not. For all she knew and understood about flowers, flower buds did not need so much time to bloom if tended well. And coming from petals to flower buds, it was just as she had feared—herhanahakicould not be slowed with that medicine.

So was it within weeks? Days?

Would she die within weeks if she did not cure it? If she did not remove the flowers?

Memories of Aether in his last few minutes flashed in and it took her no time to decide that yes, she would die if she did not remove them. Yes, she would die and everything Zhongli had done to help her would be meaningless. Lumine would die and the only one that could prevent her from dying was the surgery.

Things were as simple as that, yet nothing about the surgery felt right in her.

That was why she asked for three days. To think it through. To consider and weigh things out because it would be either she died together with herhanahakior she lived without a part of her memories and feelings.

At times like this, Lumine really missed Aether and his advice. But the most she could do was talk to his silent tomb and what advice could a silent tomb offer? At the end of the day, all was just her own words dripped with lies that it was Aether's answer to all of her monologue.

The dryness of her throat urged her to take a packet. Wobbly feet took her to the kitchen to dilute the white powder in a glass of water—measured poorly but she hoped it was somewhere around the instructed amount. It tasted bitter with a hint of minty flavor at the end, something she certainly did not catch last night as she was drowning in pain.

A heavy sigh rolled out of her as she put down the glass and placed a kettle on the stovetop. Lumine almost mixed up the sugar with salt and tea with coffee. Honestly, she did not know what to get but guessed coffee was not to her palate this morning, and brewing a good cup of tea to drink it without sugar was still beyond her ability. Tea with sugar; Zhongli might frown at her but she needed some sweetness after that painkiller.

The tea was hot against her skin as she cradled the cup to bring it with her to the shop area. When she stepped in, the sunlight had chased away most of the darkness, leaving shadows hanging at some corners and stretching silence across the space. Serenity was not what she felt. It used to be one when Aether was still with her. Now, this quietude felt too empty to be felt as such.

It was also a lot more bearable when there used to be Childe sitting across her; when things had not turned this way and she was still deep in the bliss of ignorance.

But it all had come to an end. Now, those days felt far away, and three days felt as though they were not enough to make her come to a clean decision.

White steam obscured her sight as Lumine took a small sip, savoring the underlying bitterness after the sweetness that quickly warm her. Her gaze then fell to the liquid gold inside the white cup. It reflected tired eyes and perhaps a heavy mind pooling inside. She glanced away and the phantom imagery of someone sitting across her was a vivid sight, flickering from Aether to Childe then disappearing in a blink.

And then, a knock on the window.

Gaze swept over the empty spot across her, over the thin white curtain, over the stream of sunlight filtering in to catch a glimpse of tangerine hair through the curtain crack. A hand rested on the glass pane, looking cold without the usual black gloves, but showing slender fingers rough on the surface.

Lumine did not need to guess who it was.

Reluctance clawed on her, but her feet brought her closer to the door each time she questioned herself about this decision. Alarm echoed loud in the head when cold palm rested over the door handle, finger hesitating on its key, teeth biting the inner cheek until a familiar taste was spreading. It hurt, but it brought her back to reality where she had no other choice but to turn the key and open the door.

A 6 am breeze came pouring in through the space with the door swung open, lifted the curtain, ruffling it to sway the sunlight filtered by gossamer fabric. Sharp rings of the bell resonated loud, evoking acute nostalgia of those summer days in the orphanage, and Lumine stopped before the door was fully opened.

Her eyes were fixed to the ground, to the small gap between his shoes and her bare feet, before Lumine looked up slowly to catch a familiar sight of a small package. Gaze flicked uncertainly up the lines of the fist around the paper bag, the seams of the grey jacket and maroon shirt, the contour of defined jaws, and the depth of ocean eyes. All in one painful millimeter at a time.

Dizziness made her stomach turn and although the world looked as if it was drenched in sepia and all felt too desolate, one thing remained untouched. Those azure eyes… they were a splash of color amidst the dull space. And perhaps Lumine had been staring at them for too long. She could recount how those eyes quivered before maintaining the usual plain look and pulled out a subtle crinkle to accompany an awkward kind of a smile.

"Good morning,ojou-chan," Childe said. The corner of his lips fell slightly but his features were still soft. His voice was rough on its end, hoarse, and Lumine could not help but wonder if something happened after he left last night.

Words bubbled up at the base of her tongue, but they only rolled out in a heap of two syllables "Hello," not louder than the second jingle of bell ringing as she took a step backward, letting the man push the door open wider.

If Childe heard the hesitation skittering around her voice, then Lumine did not catch his reaction. She was too busy to maintain a distance with him, walking three steps ahead without stopping at the table and going straight to the workstation. There was nothing to work on and she realized it a few seconds too late.

Childe definitely noticed her reluctance, her uncertainty, her doubt. Her distance.

Her hands gripped the station's edge in an attempt to steady her quivering body. Eyes were trying to look at him but ended up following the motion of his hands placing down the paper bag on the side across where she used to sit instead. Rustles dimmed and footfalls disappeared.

Silence fell like a thick blanket over them, filled by a soft mechanic hum of the cooler, and Lumine wondered if today was a good time for them to talk. Maybe it was for Childe, but Lumine feared that things would take turn for worse; one was the possibility of her coughing flower buds in front of him, and two was knowing the truth.

Both hurt the same.

So although there was a certain distance separating them and Childe looked like he was trying to be understanding with her condition, Lumine still did the only thing she was best at.

Evading.

"Coffee," Lumine uttered, tearing the silence one layer at a time while trying to contain the tremble threatening to ride on her voice, "I'll brew you some coffee."

There was a clatter, a shift in Childe's stance—perhaps one step taken toward her—but Lumine avoided it. Heartbeats thrummed loud and feet padded on the cold floor. The warm kettle was back on the stovetop as Lumine nursed the tight knots forming in her chest. Clinks of the spoon hitting the glassy coffee jar went unnoticed with how dizziness pushed nausea to the seam. A hand flew to her forehead as she attempted to calm herself, with the other gripping tight the kitchen counter as leverage to her hunching body. Cold sweat formed, rolled down her neck, and Lumine prayed.

Don't cough, don't faint. Anything but those—

But a shrill scream startled her, cutting her plea and a flinching hand knocked the coffee cup off the kitchen counter to shatter on the floor. Her mind screamed at her to get herself together amidst the reverberating broken porcelain while Lumine frantically tried to extinguish the burn emerging at the back of her throat.

It was a horrible feeling nestling on her head, a whirlwind of everything heavy and noisy. But something warm touched her and for a moment, the world stopped spinning. A faint scent of tobacco greeted her and only then did Lumine realize that she was leaning against something, someone.

Childe.

"Are you okay? Did you hurt?"

Lumine resented the way her body immediately relaxed despite her trying to avoid him; as if it was impossible to completely hate him.

I sink deeper instead.

In him, in his kindness that meant nothing more than just a way to gain her favor. It was his ocean, him, and she thought how she never knew she would be down so bad.

"I'm fine," Lumine pushed herself away from him. Weak motion and trembling hands, followed by dizziness made her stumble. But his hand, his grip around her, it was steady. Firm. Careful.

"No, you're not," he remarked. The scream from the kettle died out with him turning off the burner. It was silent again, and it was the same weak smile he offered to her, then. "Let's return to the front."

"But—"

Childe guided her back to the shop, letting her protest fall short with Lumine trying not to lean too much toward him. The room was now brighter after Childe turned the lamp on, a tad bit less dreary now that barely shadows remained at some corner and not scattered all around. The tea was still steaming hot with white haze flowing up. Lumine made her seat back on the stool.

"Sit here," Childe said to her as he let go of her, voice soft and warm, "I'll take care of the rest."

He should not. It was her mess, and she should take care of it. But there she was, sitting on the usual stool with eyes wandering away from him. The "Why are you so kind?" that came slipping out of her was merely answered by a wordless thin smile. One gloveless hand raised only to form a fist and fall back to his side. Childe offered nothing to follow the hesitation and just walked back to the kitchen with Lumine's eyes trailing after his steps. Perhaps Lumine should not have asked. Perhaps it was better to just comply rather than thinking it through.

Once again, Lumine nursed the knot that felt as if suffocating her then burned her tongue and throat with tea. The dizziness receded, but nausea stayed. Whether this was the result of the painkiller, the remnant of whatever after-effects from yesterday, or purely psychological, she hoped it could diminish quickly. Dealing with the bloodied petals was one thing, but this kind of pain was really a pain.

She now understood why Aether never said anything about hishanahakito her—he did not want her to know how bad it was, how painful it was.

In the end, I got the taste of it too, though.

The quiet laugh she let out sounded like a mixture of dry wheeze and a rough strangle, both reminding her how she could cough anytime now that she no longer consumed the medicine. Lumine held on, nails digging into the flesh of her hands each time the nudge and prickles in her chest emerged to tempt her.

At some point before she realized it, Lumine let her arms fall on the table, bony wrist clattered against wood and skin brushed against the hot cup. Eyes wandered away until it was her reflection inside the cup that she saw. It eased the itch, the gentle swirl of golden liquid, even if just by a fraction. But as she was staring at it, it stared back at her thick in exhaustion. Uncertainty hanging by thin lashes, shadow-like hopelessness falling across her face. A void, an empty shell. And then there was pain. Pain, pain, pain. Dull aches and burns, itches and punctures. Petals turned into buds and medicines replaced by painkillers. There was no way escaping nor a rewind and Lumine was still stuck in the notion that living meant days without remembering love and dying meant a chance to be with Aether.

The last part sounded as messed up as it was peaceful.

Saturday barely stepped into the day, yet these thoughts marched in unannounced with no way to stop. The best Lumine could do was to close her eyes, gaze at the darkness, at the void. Mindless musings trapped all sound out and before she knew it, the moment she opened her eyes, Childe had taken his seat across her, looking straight at her with less a smile than previously. A hand hovered close to her, reaching from across the table, a couple of centimeters away from brushing her hair. Then, a full stop. A motion stuck in the moment.

That smile shifted into something more than a resignation but less than a relief. More than just a polite gesture but less than the one he used to throw at her. Lopsided, a little bit crooked, undeniably troubled. Uncertain and doubtful, wanting but fearing.

The world was bathed in the blue of his eyes and Lumine struggled to remember to breathe. Hot puffs of breath left her together with the retracting hand. It fell on top of the other, hidden behind the white cup and she wished the hot steam could obscure her vision of his quiet profile.

This kind of quietness did not suit him. It never was.

So Lumine dragged her gaze down, capturing the endless flow of white steam from the dark until his voice broke the stillness.

"Are you okay?"

And it took all of her not to snide and chide responses likewhat do you think?because this was all on her.Thiswas because she fell for him and he was not, in any way, knowing any of this. Yet she could not stop the irritation from building up, could not help but aim the anger to him when it should be, when it actually, aimed at herself.

Thus she looked at him with vehemence harsh on gaze's edge, an acrid one-word answer leaving her lips.

"Better."

Because what else could she say to him? The truth was far too different than this but lies and truths had been a pair of mismatched ideas to her.

So here was her first lie.

Sunny eyes were locked with blue and Lumine did not anticipate how he would react at that answer, did not expect how those eyes softened and taut jaw relaxed, nails stopped digging into the skin as if releasing a tension.

Childe looked genuinely relieved and it put words to halt.

"Good," he breathed out, low and unbearably soft. "That's good."

Lumine hesitated in replying to him. She did it, anyway, "Yes. Maybe."

"Maybe?"

The stagger on her movement, the small slip of her grip on the now warm cup further heightened the imminent glissade. If she was not careful, she could say unnecessary things.

"It's nothing," she bit down her tongue then changed the topic. "You're early."

Childe laughed, although it was different from the usual one—a little bit forced with a hint of reluctance. "It's become a habit," he sipped his coffee, dark and bitter, "coming here at 6, I mean."

"Because of the mission."

"N— Yeah," Childe stared down at his coffee. Hard. "Yeah. The mission."

The tension waved in an ambivalent feel; a feel of losing, a feel of pulling in. Lumine was the latter, or maybe the former. Maybe the former because she was trying to lose herself while Childe was chasing, trying to grab ahold of her. It was all in vain.

"No more lies."

Lumine caught the ocean eyes, the color of the sky and her petals meshing altogether, and she felt like choking.

"No more lies," she repeated after him and hoped it did not sound strangled because the knot within her just tightened at the sentence. It did not, but she could tell that Childe was trying to see her in a narrower view. The details, the minuscule of movement.

"Breakfast first," Childe pulled a smile as he ripped open the food package. Lumine tried not to think how it sounded like her retching the blue bud from the other night. "Don't want you to collapse again,ojou-chan."

Really?

Lumine wondered about that for the longest of time.

Fisherman's toast tasted less greasy and salty today, a little bit sweeter from tomato puree and bread soft to the palate. They ate in silence with Lumine nibbling on it rather than taking a whole bite. It felt strange to her tongue, even more so to her flipping stomach, but this familiar feeling of having someone else in this space put comfort to her soul.

The transparent projection of Aether walking behind Childe from his potted plants to the door disappeared together with her meeting his gaze. Probing, wondering, guilty. The last was like a flame fading under the weight of snuffers—dying quickly, quietly, encapsulated her in darkness. Yet something about his gaze was soothing, and between them, he was the first one to avert his eyes; falling somewhere around her shoulders or neck. Maybe at the scar on her neck. It was left with red color the last time she saw it.

"Does it still hurt?" he asked eventually, voice heavy as if the question was worth a lead's weight.

Lumine tried not to flinch, tried not to remember what followed after that injury on that night, "No," and here comes her second lie, "it doesn't."

"Good," Childe nodded slightly, lifting his cup to sip more of the bitter coffee, "it's… a relief."

"Relief?"

The question escaped before she could stop and it built half a laughter and half an irritation inside. But maybe he was her weakness as much as he was someone she was not supposed to fall into. Because together with her question, his features hardened slightly before those eyes met hers once again and—

"I'm sorry."

—Lumine wavered.

This atmosphere was uncomfortable. Not because of how words of apology rang in her ears, but more of how it felt like she was pushed to a corner. There was no dodging or escaping and Lumine knew very well that she should not be feeling this way.

"You've said that to me yesterday," the clench of her fists tightened, "I want to know why."

Childe's fingers curled close, conflict registering gradually on drawn eyebrows. The seconds dragged on long within the gapping silence, teetering on a fine line of hesitation. Lumine watched his calm mask crack.

It was not until Childe released his grip, forcing hands to relax that he replied, "I told you there's nothing else to me coming here," a pause, a crumble, "it was a lie."

Lumine swallowed back a lump. "Why?"

"I had to."

"Why?" she pressed on, and it sounded awfully like a low hiss. "You told me that we would talk, that there won't be any other lies, so don't beat around the bush and—"

"I don't want you to be in danger!" Childe cut in, tone raised and loud in the still space before it broke at the end. "I don't… I can't—"

The man stopped abruptly. Heavy breaths mingled with echoes of hoarse shout before he settled with a sigh. Childe's head bowed low, leaning on a propped hand, fingers dug deep into unruly hair and Lumine failed to catch the way those blue orbs cradled a cocktail of emotions.

When he lifted his face, it was neither smile nor frown etched on his profile, but he laughed, still.

"I'm a Fatui," he continued before Lumine could begin, "and I'm used to doing all the dirty works. I've done things worse than just deceiving people before and after I'm stationed here in Liyue. People describe me as cunning but I like to call myself clever. Can't survive in this world without some brainwork, right?"

Anyone could easily say that he was a narcissist boasting about his work, his achievements, his title as the Harbinger, but for Lumine, Childe looked pitiful. Pitiful and miserable and sick to the gut. The sunlight was a harsh yellow hue landing on him, highlighting the contour of a rough smile dripping with rueful shame. Lumine felt her mouth drying up then turned acrid. The first sip of tea after it turned cold tasted uncannily similar to what that powdery medicine used to taste like. She tried to gulp it all down, tried to make heads or tails of his question, tried to ignore the growing pang and the sudden urge to bolt out.

But even if Childe noticed her restlessness, he resumed, "And you've witnessed it. You know what I've done."

"Back then, you could've silenced me," Lumine said after a small thud of cup hitting the table, her own words resonated louder in her ears.

"But I didn't," Childe shook his head then laughed again. It did not sound amused at all. It never did. "I didn't, right? Did you know why?"

Lumine built half an answer that fell away the moment Childe straightened himself, hand returned to the table, and gaze locked with her. The corners of his lips were turned upwards slightly. A resignation, maybe, or relief.

Guilt?

"I couldn't," his voice grew soft, unbearably weak. Then, a whisper, "Because it's you."

The world transformed into a stagnant space filled with condensed air and loud ringing silence. The wind that slipped in through the crack of the door brushed over the curtain, lifting it, letting more lights pour inside. Amidst that, Childe's small smile looked pitiful.

Lumine pulled away, stool scraping against the floor harsh and whatever tightness clenching in her chest was ignored. She turned away wordlessly, put on her apron, then walked to fill a small watering can with water from the sink. Trickling water swept away the echo of her erratic heartbeats, but it was not enough to stop the reverberating words spoken by Childe.

"Because it's you."

Her fist clenched tight on the watering can. Eyes pulled down, fixed at the small stream of water from the faucet filling the white can. So what if it was her? Why he could not—

Could it be…

Was that all there was to it?

Lumine was hoping. Inevitably, incessantly. She hoped for a lot of things all at the same time, but one that stood out was that Childe could not do that because it was her. Because it was Lumine who appeared in the middle of his mission and no one else so he could not bring himself to silence her.

Because it was her.

Because he cared for her, because he was finally looking her way—

No, no. Stop.

Lumine did not think of the rest, cut it with a sharp turn of the faucet, and walked briskly to the row of potted plants. She stared at them, hard, and pictured a scene involving her brother drenched in Friday morning light from the open curtain and these plants. Dwelling, drowning herself in that memory was not the healthiest thing but that was what she could do to cover the gaping hole from shoving away those hopes.

Miserable. Whatever she felt right now was a bad cocktail pushing her to a maze of nails digging into the cold tin can and teeth gnawing on dry lips. Water pooled and slid out of the earthen pot before she moved to the other plants in a couple of jerky motions. Glimmers of sunlight touching droplets of water sitting on the leaves and thin branches provided a glimpse of Aether's world, yet even so, the heaviness stayed to whisper mockery to all her wishes.

(Shameless, foolish. How could you hope when everything drives you to the corner?)

In her measly defense, these hopes were just a natural response to the ambiguous words Childe said. She took and bend it the way she wanted until reality slapped her hard in the face. It was not her fault, nor was it his fault. Hoping and expecting were humane, and what else could she have done in this situation? Repelling it would just complicate things further and Lumine was tired of complicated matters.

So here was her silence; the least she could do because she would rather keep her silence than put on a display of a pathetic show of aggression in response to his ambiguous words. But even with this silence, even with her cold gesture, it did not seem to be enough for the man to stop and let her catch herself from spiraling further down.

"You okay?"

Deep voice sailed to her, alerting her vague self-consciousness that,Archons, he was standing right behind her. Close. Too close. Lumine did not even need to look because his voice sounded so close to her.

"I'm good," was all she could say as she kept her gaze locked on the wet plants, body tensing and tone stiff. "Why don't you sit?"

"You're wobbling," Lumine could hear a frown in his answer, "what if you fall again?"

"I won't."

There was no reply from him, just the smallest of a hum following her curt response. Maybe she sounded cold ignoring him like this, but she needed time to prepare herself for what came after. Big, quiet inhale and slow, heavy exhale. Shudders ghosted over her skin. Lumine tapped on the stillness before it became too much.

Before she placed another hope too high and crash hard upon falling down.

"What is it with me?"

Lumine brushed the damp leaves, feeling the cold water against restless hands then placed down the watering can. She turned to him, steeling herself to meet his gaze. "Why didn't you kill me as you did to that man?"

Because she could not understand the reason behind it, the reason for keeping her around when it could spell more trouble than it was worth for his work.

Andante heartbeats created a soft reverb in her ears, making her grip on the apron tighten to the point where clutching it felt like holding onto her lifeline. Azurite orbs held aureate ones, gently, strongly, and Lumine saw resignation pooling deep in them together with hesitation.

The mask he always wore, the one showing candid laid-back personality to go with his camouflage as a regular customer to her shop, was gone. In its place was the face of a man. Just a man. Not a Fatui, not a Harbinger—a human.

Perhaps the most human Lumine had ever seen, if she put aside how he behaved around Zhongli on their weekly date and putting aside how he slid his mask a crack off whenever he was with her.

(A lot. He slipped his mask off completely when he's with you, Lumine. Don't deny it.)

That's just a stupid wish, not the truth, so shut up.

"Taking care of that man—killing him—was a mission I have to accomplish," he began and Lumine listened carefully, could not help but notice the way his voice sounded constricted as if it was hard to tell her this. "But not you, no."

Her breaths were caught somewhere in her throat, but words were spilled out easily. "Why not?"

A hand raised, the same way it did earlier, hovered a bit longer in the air to reach to her, brushing lightly against her arm in one cold fleeting graze. Hesitation was teetering on that fading coldness. And just like how it was earlier, it fell back to his side in a tight clench. Again, Childe broke their gazes. Again, he offered her that smile.

"Because you're not a part of my mission," he sighed, taking a few steps back. "Because my mission was just to take care of a certain person. Because you're just a civilian appearing at the wrong time, at the wrong place. I don't kill unnecessarily, you know? Other Harbingers might, but honestly, it's more trouble than it's worth if I carelessly kill civilians."

"Even if there's a chance for me to report your crime to the Millelith? Or to the Liyue Qixing?"

The crease between his eyebrows faded along with the appearance of a gentle glimmer in his gaze. "I trust you,ojou-chan. I might've told you not to trust me, but I placed my trust on you, still."

"Not fair," she murmured, slow, quivering. "You're not doing this fairly."

"I know," he fell back to the stool, shoulders sagging slightly, "but I'd rather have you hate me than have you painted as a target for the other Harbinger."

The one beat her heart made just now was enough to make her stagger. Her mind reeled in a memory from days ago. A memory where a particular person came into her shop, asking about a red spider lily—that young man in Inazuma's traditional attire.

"I know what happened here yesterday, so you better keep that mouth shut."

The day before that day was…

When Childe was unconscious outside the shop.

But nothing happened. There was absolutely nothing happening other than her tripping over her own foot while trying to drag him inside, him dreaming of her, him tying a bandage around her swollen foot, her asking if it was a 'bad Fatui day at work'. And while the memory of him clinging onto her felt warm—as if it just happened the other day, as if those arms were still wrapped around her—Lumine could not help but think if what the other Harbinger said was a warning for thefutureinstead of what had happened between her and Childe that day.

And then as if it was a premonition, barely three days after, she meddled in Childe's mission, appearing partly out of curiosity, partly out of anxiety, mostly because she wanted to prove herself wrong; that Childe was a goodperson despite his warnings.

Thinking back, it was her own fault for not believing his words and it painted a good bright red mark on her back that she failed to notice herself.

Then, was he trying to…

Protect me?

Golden gaze glued to the glimpses of blue amidst ginger hair fell across the downcast face. A hand lifted to brush them away and words hanging by the tip of her tongue fell away just like that. Lumine took small, hesitant steps toward him, unsure what to do, unknowing what to say. The touch she made on his hand buried in the entangle of sunset locks slowly turned into a grasp of his hand on her. A soft squeeze, the barest of a tremble. He let his head hang low as Lumine let his hand engulf hers slowly, surely.

Their distance was closing with another step she took and from such distance, she picked up invisible weights sitting on his shoulders. The defeat in their silent war. The"Please hear me out"and"It's okay if you hate me, but let's talk?"

Pitiful. Miserable.

Those were what they both were.

Heavy sighs tore the silence like dry patches over raw wounds. Lumine flinched, and maybe it registered to him through their linked hands. Childe looked up at her, offering a silent apology in the form of a softened gaze.

"You're one unexpected variable in my mission. Things like these are always better disposed of quick, lest it'll become hindrances in the future, but," he smiled thinly, pausing. Something akin to exhaustion mixed with sincerity reflected in dull eyes as he added, "I want to be selfish, for once."

Selfish?

"I don't understand," she laughed weakly, trembling fingers threatening to break away from his hold. "I feel like we're talking in circles and the more you tried to explain it to me, the more lost I am."

And the more he dragged out their conversation, the more she hoped that there was a chance for them, for her. Maybe this was just one big excuse he made for her so she could just give up on knowing the truth. But it was not her who wanted to talk, no. It was Childe, and as much as she wanted to believe that he was telling no lie as he had promised, there were bound to be lies somewhere in his complicated explanation.

Lumine hated this uncertainty, hated the way she hoped and wished for something when everything should be clear for her eyes that no chance was ever going to be granted to make him look her way.

"I thought I'll be fine being hated. My job left me with more enemies than allies and I thought it's okay for me to be hated by you," Childe said, voice lowered down until it was all ebbing and flowing, "but the guilt caught on."

Lumine swallowed on a dry throat, fought the sudden urge to cough, held back the stings and tight knots everywhere in her chest. "From lying to me?"

"From putting you in danger too," a laugh. A pause. A tightening hold around her two hands. "Maybe I just don't want to lose you."

Lumine wanted to cry.

Dear Archons, she really wanted to cry.

Perhaps she had cried because all was a big blob of obscure colors and blurry, watery contour. It was a silent cry, more like tears falling without her doing anything other than blinking. But more than melting it away, it pushed out more of the salty water; one by one landing on her tightly held hands before a thumb wiped away a trail of tears on her cold cheek.

"I'm sorry."

Another apology and she did not know what it was for.

"For putting you in danger, for lying to you, for hurting you," he continued, voice weak whisper in a trembling mess.

She still did not know what danger he spoke of, but perhaps not everything was meant to be known. Maybe there were things better left unknown to her. Maybe there were things he would rather keep to himself, both out of necessity and personal reasons. Putting it that way, perhaps it was how the world took pity on her, how fate blessed her with some mercy amidst her stupid, incurable illness stemmed from her love to this man who could never be hers.

But for once,for once, Lumine wanted to think that this moment was their moment. Theirs, his and hers alone—a moment of weakness and mended torn seams with sloppy stitches but still managed to pull everything back together again, somehow.

The"I don't want to lose you"sparked hopes to live, filling her void with, mayhaps, fake and short-lived warmth. But it was still warmth, nonetheless, and the warmth emanating from their joined hands, nearly intertwined fingers, was as real as her hot tears.

From relief? From frustration? Both? Whichever it was, the hand cupping her cheek was a big temptation for her to just lean into it, seeking more warmth and something the sort of an anchor.

Because, despite everything, Lumine could not help but find herself taking more steps back to him. Childe was her anchor, her reason to keep going, her brake when she was thinking of letting everything go and be at peace in Aether's cradle somewhere in the clouds.

"When I told you this place put me at ease," Childe started again, slowly guiding her hands to him until his forehead was pressing against them, "it wasn't a lie. I like it here. With you. With all this. Even if I didn't suit this place at all."

"You were sticking out like a sore thumb," Lumine managed amidst the tears. "And you still are."

But even that was okay. Lumine could not stop thinking how his presence had eased her from being suffocated in this box of memory, chocked full of traces of her twin brother, letting her breathe a little bit easier and fall a bit more in him.

Now, if only thishanahakinever existed at all…

Childe looked up to her, half an amused smile and half a tender cast, then he stood. Tall stature bent slightly then he placed a hand on her shoulders to pull her in. Anger melted away together with each tears falling and disappeared into his gray jacket, mind hazy in the comforting musk and familiar tobacco scent.

"I'll protect you, this place, everything," fingers brushed golden locks as Lumine tried and failed to catch her heart from beating too loud in her ears.

"Why?"

"You could say I feel responsible."

"But I'm a Liyue citizen and you're—"

"A Fatui Harbinger. I know." The hold he had around her tightened ever so slightly. "But can I say that I feel like I belong here?"

Lumine felt weak. So weak. She needed to pull herself back from diving too deep into the idea of 'Childe wanted to be with her' when it should mean 'Childe liked this place'.

And although she had been asking the same question over and over in the course of one morning, in less than an hour, Lumine could not help but ask it again, replaying it like a broken record in a small utter, "Why?"

He laughed a bit. A little bit lighter, a bit more of the Childe she knew from the everyday visit.

"Despite everything," he hummed, "I'm just a man."

Words hanging by the tip of her tongue melted away, more of those unbidden tears fell to dampen ash gray fabric, and maybe Lumine tugged on the hem of his jacket. Tiny tugs, barely a clutch, because she was not sure she could have this after everything happened between them. But she wanted tofeelit, to bask in the illusion that she completely had him in this very moment.

Childe was just a human, aman. The whole Harbinger facade fell away whenever he was here and Lumine had been denying that one fact. Maybe she was afraid of sinking even deeper into his ocean, but without even accepting it, she had sunk so deep so what was the point of denying?

It was a poor attempt of curing, slowing down her ownhanahakiby rejecting the notion. And in the end, it did not work. Nothing worked.

So here they were, falling back into their places, things sorted out even if some left her with more questions than answers. Fatui matters, she sensed, and if she had already meddled too much with his work that night, then maybe keeping her in the dark about what danger she was in would be best. Ignorance was bliss, but—

"Can I trust you?" Lumine asked, voice all muffled in his clothes, breathing in more of the thick burnt tobacco scent she could almost taste it.

Then he released her, fingers brushed against the wet cheek, and the ocean met sun amidst messy golden hair clinging to damp face. Embarrassment ran deep in her at the naive question she asked. But then, he smiled. Sincere.

"You can."

Archons…

She wanted to live a bit longer with this memory.

Notes:

mimosa—secret love, sensitivity, tolerance

good day, guys, and hello, i'm back! it's been three months since i last update this and i'm sorry for updating it so slow... currently, i'm pursuing a master's degree and every day is always a busy day for me that i can barely squeeze in the chance to write properly. i realize that not everyone who reads this followed me on twitter so i'll just say it here;i won't be dropping this fic and the update will be once in three months at most.i'll try not to update it longer than 3 months and faster if i could! thank you so much for your understanding in this matter

kudos and comments always made my day and helps the motivation going! my DM on twitter is always open if you want to drop by too! thank you for reading and i'll see you in the future updates!

Chapter 15: helenium

Summary:

perhaps it would be better to not expect anything at all.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter fornotes.)

Chapter Text

Tender rays of sunshine filtered in through crevices of treetop to land on the ground in small pools of white light, delivering a silent message"Today will be a gentle day for you"like a light tap on her shoulders. Her feet came to a halt in the middle of the empty bridge and Lumine tilted her head upward.

Above, maple leaf danced with the arrival of a soft breeze, whispering rustles crisp to the ear and vibrant scarlet leaf scattered around. It reminded her of how Aether used to return with a pile of them in addition to fresh flowers from the flower market. Fallen leaves and small flowers that grew on the side road, green ferns and shiny pebbles. Things most people would rather ignore always took shapes in his hands; bookmarks, bracelets, hair ornaments—small gifts for his customers.

Sunlight fell on Lumine's face like glittery dust, urging her eyes to flutter close and skin freed of coldness from the morning breeze. Although it was very brief and almost fleeting, there was calmness all around and an odd sense of contentment washed ashore. She should have been back to the shop by now, spreading fresh flowers across the empty table to cut off leaf and stem, enjoying silence draped across frozen scape in minutes. Panels of brief reminisce, a momentary recall of tender memories wrapped in a reprise of cutting and plucking. But there she was, eyes locked to the vivid embrace of red flurry and body relaxed into the wind.

It would not hurt to stretch this moment for a bit longer, would it?

Liyue at 9 a.m. was unusually quiet today and time felt as if it marched a little bit slower. It almost reminded her of the early mornings in Mondstadt and its slowly turning windmills. A little bit sleepy and snug; something Liyue would never dream of being. For a fine Sunday morning, it was rather an odd thing to have the street missing the cheerful laughter from kids running with tame stray dogs and street vendors offering their products. It was just a collection of rustling leaves and trickles of water under the bridge, fresh air with the hint of salty scent and gentle warmth kissing the skin.

All felt like a mirage, a collection of images bursting with colors and fragile like soap bubbles. Transient, fleeting, and dare she was to call it a blessing for it allowed Lumine a moment for herself. Blessing, or perhaps it had always been that way and she simply never noticed it before.

Echoes of doves taking flight brought her back from the imagery of a breezy vast plain within the boundary of her imagination. The world materialized in a color of the warm tint of yellow with a touch of orange, and a steady sound of water streaming under the bridge tickled the ears. All was strangely serene, something Lumine could get used to, but knew would not last. The glaze lilies in Lumine's hold gently reminded her that she needed to get going. Now that she was back, it was getting more pronounced too, the prickles in her chest, the burn in her dry throat.

Archons, ithurt.

Maybe she stumbled or perhaps she tipped over from the sudden darkness invading her vision and when she came to, someone was already holding her, and she had lost all the glaze lilies. A sense of numbness pooled in her chest and the loud ring echoing in her ears evoked a sharp pain at the back of her head. Lumine was not sure if her face showed any kind of pain or if she hissed from the sharp burn, but the hold on her arm tightened slightly.

Who was it?

"Are you okay?"

Someone, a man. It was too blurry to see his face…

Zhongli?

No. Zhongli's voice was deeper than this, always sounding calm and composed. This one was lighter and hasty, a little bit familiar but also foreign at the same time.

"C-Childe…?"

Dark spots scattered away, slowly letting colors and shapes come to light and the first thing Lumine noticed was black hair. Then, black eyes. Finally, a familiar-looking uniform that she would never mistake had the mist enshrouding her vision dissipate quicker.

The millelith officer.

"Miss, are you hurt anywhere?" The man inquired; profile twisted in something more of a worry now that Lumine could make out a frown on his face.

What happened?

It just occurred to her that she had fallen to the ground, perhaps would have face-planted herself had the officer helped her a second late. But falling to the ground was a better option because she could have tipped to the side and fallen off the bridge instead, down and into the pool of water far beneath, sinking and drowning.

Still, she could have been more careful.

"No, I'm fine. Just…" a dragging inhale, a heavy exhale, "a little bit of anemia."

Words tasted foul like that of blood. Lies came out swiftly, lightly, as if they weighed nothing while puffs of breaths rolled out in a sputtering mess. There were trembles, traces of numbness on fingertips, and perhaps a heart that beat a tempo quicker. The world lost its color as quickly as it returned, but the gray feeling stayed. Lumine wondered, then, as blood rushed back to her head in a flood of dizzying warmth, why, of all people, did she call for Childe in that split of a moment?

What was the chance of him being here, anyway?

If there was a twist in her stomach from disappointment, Lumine ignored it and pushed herself to stand instead. Wobbling legs and shaky hands, perhaps a bit of hitched breaths and waves of nausea. Rough hands stayed on thin arms, thin enough to wrap a hand around it, almost. Discomfort rose from it, but those hands pulled away quickly. Lumine watched as the man crouched to gather the fallen glaze lilies.

"Would you like to visit the doctor?" He asked suddenly, voice intrusive to Lumine's frozen ponder. "Or I can take you to the pharmacy if you need some medicine."

"Oh." No doctor could treat her. "No. No, it's okay."

Nothing was okay and it was achingly plain to see. Her composure wavered as a voice in her head screamed a little bit too loud at her like an alarm—three days, Lumine, and it's now one day left.

It felt like a cold slap on her face.

The officer stood, brushing dirt off the glaze lilies gently yet awkwardly. He frowned a little at her, glanced down at the flower in his hands, then back at her with knitted brows. "Are you sure?"

Golden eyes were quick to look away, focusing on wrinkles on her skirt, dust clinging on its hem, anything other than those dark eyes gazing at her with disbelief. The hard swallow on a dry, burning throat was a bad decision. It did not erase the quiver in her voice.

"Y-Yeah. I… have the medicine at home."

If painkillers could be considered drugs, then what Zhongli gave her was one. And thanks to that, Lumine was reminded of the fact that she—in her delirium of waking up—had forgotten to drink it this morning. No wonder it burned as if a fire was eating her lungs. Although she could not be certain what caused the sudden lightheaded feeling and dizziness, it was best to return home quickly and take the painkiller as the sensations gave her discomfort more than she thought it would.

So, Lumine accepted the gathered glaze lilies and flashed a small, hurried smile at the millelith officer. "Thank you for the help, sir."

Rudeness was bordering the way Lumine turned and walked away briskly, but she could not be bothered with courtesy when she was so close to crying out from the pain. Lumine could have sworn that he called for her, but amidst the burn and mind drowned in the reprise of a certain warning, she could only walk faster before the dizziness caught on.

Arriving back home had never felt this relieving.

Yes, it was because of the pain and the desperate need to extinguish it, but after Aether's passing, never had she once felt relieved to be back in their home—house. There was always a part of her that continuously pushed memories of Aether up to the surface whenever she took a step into the shop, the kitchen, the bedroom. And although she did not believe in ghosts, sometimes Lumine thought it would be nice to see Aether's ghost.

Maybe, then, she would not feel so alone.

A deep sigh spilled out of moist lips as Lumine tried to ignore the bitterness that lingered at the back of her throat. They said that a good medicine tasted bitter, but nothing was ever a medicine to herhanahaki, no matter how bitter it was. She could only laugh at her own musing as she placed down the empty glass on the kitchen counter, coldness seeped in and the clatter rang loud before it died. How ironic it was, for the cure to her illness was something so close yet unattainable.

The next couple of hours were spent with wordless snips and swift plucks; pools of molten gold seeing past the motion on repeat and back to seeing the swaying leaf. The dull ache that once lingered slowly dissipated somewhere along the passing time, and the moment the imagery faded back into a hand holding the last glaze lily, time had marched a little bit closer to twelve than eleven.

Had it been that long? It did not feel like it.

The last clip on the dainty flower was followed by a sudden emergence of coughs. The clatter of scissors left on the table and hurried walk away from the shop, into the bathroom to bend over the sink was as natural as it could be. There was a bit of panic waltzing to the mind before it got washed away together with the diminishing coughs, and when hazy golden orbs wandered down, they captured the sight.

They were small—the flower buds.

Round, dainty, and soft. The deep azure color was a contrast against pale lips, even more so to the scarlet droplets diminishing to a fading blush as the water washed it out. And after it was all gone—the blood, the disgusting stench, the sickening iron tang—that was all there was to it.

A tangible thing; a manifestation of love.

Had it always been love?

Today marked the second month since Lumine first discovered her strange illness, approximately the sixth or seventh week and she still remembered the first time a petal fell out of her mouth as if it was the other day. An odd petal, the only blue petal out of all her flowers on the display. Confusion was the first thing filling her mind as there were no flowers with blue petals for the week's stock. She reasoned that perhaps it was one of those dried petals Aether often made to be used as potpourri. Maybe it fell from the drawer where he kept them or maybe the wind brought it in from outside.

But it was neither.

Because it came from her after she coughed, slipping, and fluttering past her lips. It was there after she saw the blue-eyed man standing in front of her shop, talking to the beautiful, amber-eyed gentleman who frequently visited her shop to buy glaze lilies. It was an abrupt greeting of herhanahakiafter Lumine imagined if it was her who stood next to the man she helped a few nights ago, after she thought absently,"Wouldn't it be nice if he smiled at me as he did to Mister Zhongli?"

Always.

It had always been love.

Memories faded like a swirl of silvery-ash smoke in the air, gradually pulling the absent sense back to the present, back to the wet sensation lingering on her hands, back to the coldness under her naked feet. Unbidden shivers ran down her spine the moment blurry sight focused on the blue floating on the water. A hand scooped it up and excess water trickled down through the gap of thin fingers, ripples formed patterns on the pooling thin pink water. Its noise echoed in the small bathroom to swallow the stillness and Lumine held back another fit of cough.

She had coughed a little bit harder than yesterday's, a bit more laborious, a lot more hurt. If previously Lumine described how it felt like a fire or needles were poking continuously in her chest whenever she coughed, then now it felt like whatever inside her was ripping as if close to falling apart.

Waves of panic were a constant ebb and flow; sometimes it was there, sometimes it was nowhere. It was there when she coughed, when it felt like the flowers were creeping up to her throat and hot pain drowned all senses. It was nowhere when the fit receded, when she could finally taste the blood in her mouth and eyes found blue amidst red. Somehow, the idea of finding flower buds sitting on her shaky palms was both horrible and relieving at the same time. She did not know what to do with these conflicting feelings. Maybe it was a natural reaction; to fear pain, to be relieved of seeing the usual thing. Still, it did not add to her decision regarding Zhongli's offer because, in the end, all she felt was pain. Indispensable pain. A given.

Zhongli's painkiller was truly a lifesaver; even breathing was accompanied by a sting lately, and it had just been barely a full two days, not yet 48 hours after she gained her consciousness, and Zhongli told how her time was limited.

To what degree?

Maybe weeks. Maybe days. Maybe even hours. Hopefully longer, but Lumine could not be greedy.

At least, she thought as she wiped away the blood from her lips, and lifted her head to see her reflection in the mirror, looking more haggard and paler,until I can decide properly.

Sometimes the night in Liyue felt too short and the day was dragging on too long, but lately, everything seemed to zoom past her before she could realize it. Saturday had passed in a blink of an eye and Sunday morning rolled in with a light sun shower soft to the ears, pitter-patter on the street. There was no visit from a certain man carrying breakfast for them nor hot, black coffees for two. There was only a short trip to the flower market, a restock of glaze lilies, qingxin, and everything else that caught her attention, a fleeting respite within the capsule of golden light and shadows from the tree.

Erratic heartbeats drowned all sounds. Her blurry sight could barely make out any shape of the bud and was only cleared when a blink pushed out tears. It slid quietly to the corner of her lips, and she would have tasted its saltiness if only blood did not taste so strong. Yet even the tanginess was pushed to the back of her mind as glossy eyes stared emptily at the lone flower bud.

Just when she was glad that she did not cough when she woke up…

Lumine tried to adjust her breathing to break away from the crashed high hope. Each inhale was accompanied by a stinging dull ache, a sensation similar to having a bruise and teared-up skin at the same time. The urge to throw away the bud was quelled by a shaky sigh and the taste of blood returned, sharper and thicker than usual. There was no use in getting mad and frustrated.

The rouge was the first thing she had in mind as she washed off the remnant of blood in her mouth; to put it on again after it was wiped off just in case she had customers visiting today. The artificial lip coloring had seen the light more often these days, no longer kept in the drawer ever since Amber gifted it back when she was still in Mondstadt. She had thought of using it on special days and occasions, like her and Aether's birthday for example, but she never expected for it to be used this way.

To think about it, she never really had the chance to wear it. Not in Mondstadt, not in Liyue. But the thought once came brushing in an hour before Aether's funeral. Lumine remembered taking it out of the drawer, remembered that she thought how she should at least look proper at the farewell of her twin. Yet in the end, she could not bring herself to. After all, a colorless face suited her better for such a sad occasion. All the bright stuff, colors, and lights had dimmed out together with Aether. Now, Lumine wondered if there was any difference in the gloom she felt that day and now. It was for a different reason, but it felt—

The same.

The building emptiness, echoes of painful hopelessness, the anguish.

Nothing had changed.

The rouge felt strange against dry lips; a quick rub where gentle red bloomed. It was not one of blood nor was it as soft as a cherry blossom. Lumine did not know what to describe the color with, yet she admitted it was enough to give some color to her pale face, enough to fool herself.

So she returned to the shop, pulled out the small basket filled with blue petals, and dropped the flower bud inside. Within the second, Lumine found herself gazing at the piling blue. There was no explanation as to why they looked as if they were just picked from a newly bloomed flower; still fresh and the same as she first saw it fell out of her mouth. Looking back, Aether's were the same. Pristine deep cor lapis color, crystalline petals that glimmered under the light. They all looked like they were still alive. Each petal, each bud; they felt as if they carried souls in them.

Aether's?

Ridiculous.

But it was also not, somehow. Because they said the soul was where love came from, where love was engraved deep in one's being. That was why there were 'soulmates' and each soulmate was bound to find each other as time passed. Lumine guessed that neither Aether and Zhongli nor Childe and her was one of those soulmates. Childe and her—no matter how much time had passed, nothing hinted that they were walking on the same path. In fact, it felt like they both were walking further away from each other despite their closeness.

People said distance brought the heart closer but perhaps it was never meant for them.

The dull musing faded out in a prolonged woosh instead of a quick swish. They retreated to the back of her mind one step at a time, but golden orbs remained glued to blue. Maybe if she squinted, she could make out the smooth lines of those petals or even the size difference between today's flower bud and yesterday's. Today's was a bit bigger, actually, she decided, an afterthought.

A whisper rolled out together with a hot puff of breath, short and a bit shaky, but lips formed a small smile though it never reached the eyes.

"The last stage, huh?"

If so, then how much time was left until they bloomed?

A high-pitched, shrill clanking noise followed the bursting swing of the door, tearing the heavy silence like a jab to the gut. Surprise painted Lumine's mind white. A hand knocked over the basket from the way her body reacted to the abrupt entrance, letting all blue fall and scatter all over. A dull thud from the basket hitting the floor resounded and died together with the last reverb of a tinkling bell. Her eyes captured familiar orange and the deep ocean blue belied the initial thought of a drunken fisherman mistaking her shop for his house or a child too excited to look at flowers.

It was—

"Childe?"

Leaning against the door was the last person Lumine thought would see in the middle of the day. Because on normal days, he would come either early in the morning, outside waiting for a certain person, or at dusk carrying dinners for two. But perhaps this was not one of those days, and he certainly had no reason to visit her at this time of day.

"What—"

The question was cut early; the moment she caught his stagger upon releasing his hold on the door and sauntered over the counter. Cold sweat with an unfocused gaze, pale face, and labored breaths. Lumine could only run out of the counter to catch his swaying figure before he lost his balance and slammed himself to the floor.

"Childe? Childe, what happened?"

His skin was hot to the touch, burning, and the initial idea of him being drunk was quick to be replaced by him getting poisoned or drugged. An alarm rang loud in her ears as she tried to keep him on his feet. Her petite body was engulfed by his bigger one, thin arms desperately trying to contain him within her and bear his weight as he rested his head on her shoulder.

Their proximity pushed shudders to race across her spine, even more so when Lumine felt his breaths brush over her neck. The awareness irked her, even more so when she knew that this was not the right time to react that way. Childe needed a doctor, and fast.

"—'Jou-chan?"

"Can you still walk?" she questioned quickly, changing his position to her side with an arm slung across her shoulders so she could take him to her room. "We need to get you to bed."

"Am fine…" Childe mumbled an answer, quiet as they walked steadily.

"You're burning," Lumine countered, "there's no way you're okay."

The man let out a weak laugh that sounded as if he was saying"Can't fool you, huh?", but said nothing else for the rest of their slow trudge. His breaths grew ragged, and it felt like he was on the brink of tumbling down because Lumine could gradually feel his full weight pulling her down.

Just a bit more…

And thank Archons he managed to stay conscious until she laid him down on her bed, until she took off his grey jacket and draped a thin blanket over his body. A palm rested on his damp forehead, sensing no hint of his high temperature had decreased at all. If her suspicion at the beginning was true, then she better called a doctor and had him checked.

Yet, just as she turned around, a hand clamped on her wrist, catching her before she made a step away from the bedside. Lumine glanced at him and realized how this whole scene had happened before.

"Where...?"

It was just that he was still conscious this time even though it seemed that he was barely holding up.

"I'm going to call a doctor," she replied briskly. "I don't know what happened, but we need to get you checked."

"No doctors. No need…" his grip on her tightened, and although Lumine could shake it off with his current state, she did not.

"But you're—"

"'tis alright," a rough whisper, hoarse, "it'll go away soon."

Soon, but would it really?

Her eyes gazed at his gloved hand circling her wrist. The more she looked at it, the more it seemed as if he was clinging to her instead of holding her back. Softly, gently, but firm. She reminded herself that this was all in her head, that maybe he meant that calling a doctor would trouble him, a Harbinger.

"Alright,"Let's think logically, Lumine, "no doctors. I'll go get you water."

Towel and cold water too. From this on, it felt like she was retracing the past, and if this was the same case as that one time, then Childe would recover later as if nothing ever happened at all. Although Lumine was curious and concerned about it, Childe never really explained anything, and she never asked further either. All he ever mentioned was that it was a normal reaction.

Reaction to what, really.

Yet this time, she was sure he would simply brush it off again the way he did before.

When Lumime returned with a cup of water and plastic basin filled with cold water and a small towel, Childe was looking at his hand. There was a grim line hanging on the crease of his lips, artificial light painted his skin unhealthy white, and dark shadows pooled under his eyes. They disappeared the moment he turned at her like it was just a figment of her imagination. In their place, there was a small smile and Lumine pretended not to notice it as she busied herself with wringing out the wet towel.

"It's not that… bad,ojou-chan," Childe said when Lumine took the empty cup from him and placed the damp towel on his forehead.

"I'm not sure," she watched his gloved hand resting on his side. Hesitant movement and maybe awkward touch, but Lumine managed to take his gloves off. Calluses and small scars; proofs that he was used to all the rough work.

"Not… the prettiest sight… right?"

Her eyes swept back at him, finding his deep blue ones between the crack of heavy eyelids. The small smile remained, softened a little when Lumine shook her head.

"Lie," he said with weak chuckles.

She did not; everything about him was pretty. Especially those blue eyes. But she would never admit that aloud, not even when there was a chance that Childe would not remember all this.

So to keep it within her, she let go of his hand to place his glove on the bedside table. "Sleep, Childe."

Something brushed on her fingertips, something rough but gentle. Lumine turned around, and the man looked at her with eyes so close to shutting close. The brush became touch and touch became a hold. A rough whisper sailed in a slow wave while tuning all sounds out.

"Stay… with me?'jou-chan?"

It was unfair. And it gripped her heart hard. Time stopped for a second, trapping his heat within her small hand, and words echoed in the silence of her room. There was no way Lumine could reject that so she pulled a chair to the bedside and sat there, brushing a thumb over his knuckle one bump at a time. A soft squeeze accompanied a quiet answer, "I'm here."

Until he fell asleep, until the dark shadows under his eyes no longer lingered within her mind.

The room was a mixture of faint tobacco scent and diminishing afterthoughts. Lumine watched the man's labored breaths gradually grow steady, eyelids no longer quivering, and she found herself staring at the long lashes, down to pointy nose to end at pale lips loosely shut. Childe looked weak and vulnerable like this, the same as that time; even his request just now was like his sleep talk. Lumine quickly counted one to ten inwardly, then repeated once she reached ten. The question about his condition resurfaced too frequently whenever she left her mind empty, so the act kept herself busy with something.

After all, she had decided not to ask about it once he was up. Keep her silence, do not pry, and simply regard it as something related to his work. Ignorance was bliss.

Time ticked slowly when you were waiting for someone, and between counting one to ten repeatedly and constantly replacing the damp towel, there was nothing else to do with her staying there. Maybe twenty minutes had passed since Childe first closed his eyes and another minute had flown by as Lumine traced her thumb over a long scar stretching from the back of his hand past his wrist. Maybe it was now alright to leave him and back to tidying up her shop.

So after giving his hand one last squeeze and whispering quietly for him to recover soon, Lumine left her room. The shop was worse than how she remembered it before Childe came barging in. It was the blue petals; she never had the chance to realize when exactly they had fallen, scattered all over. Must be one of the seconds where she rushed to help him, and amidst the panic, she had trampled over some.

Still, Lumine thought as she crouched to gather some, they looked like they were still alive. No signs of withering or drying—things could be seen on any regular petals. It was unnatural, but then again, having flowers growing inside a body was anything but natural.

The petals were somewhere around fifty, probably more, and flower buds were four that most likely would increase one by the end of today. What should she do with them? Keep them to see if one day they would rot or throw them away? What did she do with Aether's?

I buried them with him.

Beautiful cor lapis amidst white glaze lilies. Was he happy to carry those petals and flowers with him? The Aether in her dreams was always smiling, frowning more in her last dream of him, but he looked serene. No regrets.

It's me who's still regretting it.

The last flower bud landed in the heap of the blue inside basket with Lumine gazing at it wistfully. There was no use in regretting, she knew—she had been constantly, repeatedly telling herself. Yet with all logical reasonings said to herself, nothing was enough to convince herself to get out of that hole.

Maybe not a hole. Maybe it was quicksand. Maybe she needed more than just logical reasoning. A helping hand. Something to pull her out of the suffocating sand and see the light and sky above.

Was not that what both Childe and Zhongli had been trying to do? Probably not Childe, but Zhongli certainly had.

Childe was just there for his own business, and she was taking advantage of his presence for fleeting comfort and futile hopes.

But their conversation the other day made her hope again—that there was a deeper meaning to what he said, that he was not there solely because of his mission or for his own convenience, that he was thereforher and becauseshewas there. Childe said he wanted to be selfish, so here was her selfishness: thumb brushing over scarred skin and lips muttering silent hopes for his recovery, heart yearning for him to stay and she was the reason why he stayed.

Lumine realized by now that she had been staring again at the blue, nails digging into the basket in a tight grip as if wanting to crush them altogether. But thin arm and fingers only managed to make the woven basket imprinted on her skin, almost angry red and pale white when she let go. A whole lot of unsaid emotion encapsulated within a heavy sigh that followed.

There was no use dwelling on that.

So she left the basket to sit on the counter alone, turned away, and traced invisible lines around the space; connecting dots and listing things she needed to do. Glistens of artificial light on the glass container caught her eyes. And then, the mess around her workstation. The crumpled newspapers scattered on the floor, the cardboard boxes, and ripped plastic wrappers piled by the table.

There were an awful lot of things to do.

The next half an hour or so was spent with her cleaning the workstation and the floor around it; picking the broom and sweeping away fallen leaves and stems. Crouched to take all the crumpled newspaper and plastic wrappers to fold them into a neat pile inside piling cardboard boxes. Black carbon smearing the fingertips, rustle of flipping and turning newspaper and plastic wrappers, and a subtle scent of a fresh flower in the air. A soft rumble tore the sky, and then it was a light drizzle, pitter-patter softly on the street.

How fast the weather changed, when several hours ago she was bathing in the sunlight and thought it would be good if time were to stop.

All the good things ended eventually.

A box moved to the side as Lumine fetched the used newspaper beneath it, reminding herself to keep moving because the mess would not tidy up itself when the headline caught her attention. Bold letters and black carbon ink made her stomach clench, moreover when she put all letters into words and words into sentences. It was about the death of a merchant from Fontaine. That, and a monochromatic photo of a woman in a black mourning dress holding a little girl in a white, or cream, dress. Her face looked too calm for a child who just witnessed the gruesome murder of her own father. Long wavy hair pulled into a neat ponytail, a face that looked too familiar for eyes to see.

Lumine let out a breath she had been holding without noticing.

And then, a thought.

So that's what my sister looks like.

She looked like Aether, like her, like their mother, and dare Lumine guessed that her hair was also golden-colored. The eyes too, and maybe there were more similarities between them than Lumine would like to admit. Well, who was she kidding? After all, they had the same parents, so it was only natural that they shared similar features. It was just that they were born in different conditions. Different environment and probably in a world where survival was not a top priority and love could be given anytime, anywhere the girl wanted.

Because that was not the case for Aether and her.

If there was resentment contained within her gaze, it went away the second she closed her eyes. Maybe it was easy to dismiss the thought simply like pouring water on a lump of dying coal ignited by just the smallest spark of fire. But perhaps Lumine was only lying to herself and pretending because it was actually a hard thing to do, especially—

"Excuse me."

"Yes, welcome. How can I help—"

—when the person was right in front of her.

All sentences fell behind soft rumbles of thunder permeating through the wall, echoing deep to leave nothing but white noise within. Newspaper slipped past fingers with invisible ivy rooted her to the place and stole her breaths. Pictures of a soft smile and gentle hug from a long time ago broke the surface and lips were drawn shut before the word long forgotten escaped.

Mother?

The woman in front of her, whose sunlight hair was the exact shade of her own, stared back at her, maybe containing half a surprise of her own within the frozen movement. Perhaps it was due to her own sentiment, but the way those lips slowly curled into a trembling frown gave her the idea that she recognized her. Her forgotten daughter. The daughter, along with the son, who was left behind in the small alley of bustling Liyue City ages ago. The daughter who tried to find the reason why she was abandoned together with her twin but was unable to and finally gave up. The daughter who used her as a selfish excuse to leave her twin to suffer alone.

But she did not know all of this. The woman had missed a good one decade and more of Lumine's growth, of her life, and she intended to keep it that way.

"I'm sorry for the mess," Lumine managed a friendly tone before the silence settled to fill the growing space between them, through the dry and constricted throat and nails carving crescent moons on her palm. "Take your time looking around, ma'am."

Keep it within the boundary of business. This, albeit a good ten minutes to her lunch break, was still her working hour. And who knows? The lady probably did not recognize her and simply wanted to buy a flower or two for her deceased husband. It was still a question in the farthest back of her mind; why did she stay here in Liyue when her husband's corpse was probably already six feet under back in Fontaine? She and her little daughter. What was the point?

As Lumine picked up the fallen newspaper, flipping it to the side showing a public opinion about how Liuli Pavilion and Xinyue Kiosk could create a collaboration cuisine, she noticed the woman taking a small, hesitant step into the shop and folding her wet umbrella. She carried, with her, the fresh scent of rain and an odd mood enshrouding her. Lumine dragged heavy feet across the space to put the newspaper on its stack at the corner of the shop, ignoring the growing lump within her chest and half a sigh.

It took all of her not to openly be hostile and maintain a friendly, somewhat neutral gesture. And although Lumine avoided her gaze, she could not help but find herself staring at the woman's back when she stopped at the rows of displayed flowers. A familiar back, the back that used to be occupied by a sick Aether during her childhood while she was walking behind her the whole time, trailing, and overlapping her much larger footprints on the sandy or snowy patch.

A group of refugees, her family was, all seeking a safe place to build a house if not a home. But her safe place turned out to be Liyue while the woman's, along with her husband, was Fontaine. And in the place of her and Aether, was a little girl whose features resembled them the most but name unknown.

"Can I have this flower wrapped in a small bouquet?"

And her voice was still the same as the one in her memory, if not a bit wobbly. Perhaps because of age, although she did not look like she aged that much either, or perhaps because she, too, had been trying to keep a neutral tone amidst her surprise of finding the child she had abandoned years ago to be alive, still. Lumine did not know. She did not want to know.

"Glaze lily?" She inquired calmly instead, even if the name was grating roughly against her heart for the reminiscent of Aether. The walk and stop next to the woman was surprisingly easy, and so did the next question, "How many do you want for the bouquet?"

"Three, just three," the woman paused, "Is it possible to add these too?"

Qingxin and cecilia. They were all white flowers.

"Certainly, ma'am."

Three glaze lilies, two qingxins, and four cecilias. It was rather a simple, monochromatic bouquet with just a splash of blue. Must be for her husband, for nothing suited a mourning bouquet more than a simple one.

The brush of her hand, picking and carrying the flowers, against the hem of the woman's sleeve was brief, and yet it left prolonged scorch as if it burned. The idea had once or twice popped in her head, of how one day her parents showed up in her shop, but it never occurred to her that she would react this much when it did happen. Haphazard might not be something visible to the eyes, but it sure described the state of her mind perfectly. All over the place, multiple emotions fighting to hold the reins at the same second, and in the end, it was good to be logical and kept things steady and ignorant.

If this was her lucky day, then this would be all there was to it. This, arranging flowers and wrapping them into a neat bouquet, would be the last thing her mother needed from her. This, the silence thick enough to crush her shoulders and force anger out of her chest, would be the only thing Lumine needed to bear until the woman set her foot out of her shop, disappearing into the rain, and hopefully never, ever, showed herself again.

After all, in this small space of her haven called flower shop, nothing was more pitiful than her unrequited love and the reminisce of her dearly beloved twin brother, so Lumine did not count this sudden appearance of the woman as a prick to her bubble at all.

At all, yet the other part of her knew the truth. How long could she hold up this facade?

"Lovely," the woman remarked in a quiet murmur when Lumine held up the finished bouquet, silver ribbon twirling at the motion.

The florist flashed her customer a polite smile. "Would you like to add a card and put some words to it?"

Pleasantries, pleasantries. Endure the seller-buyer exchange until it was all done, until she walked out of the shop with this damned bouquet of hers.

"Sure," the woman returned the smile. A thin smile. Golden irises disappeared under the flutter of pale eyelids. Her voice a whisper, "For my daughter."

For her daughter. Not for her husband?

Maybe Lumine let curiosity the best of her because she asked, with fake enthusiasm, "Oh? What's her name?"

A pause.

A beat.

"Lumine."

The pen was stuck on a dot. Black ink seeped into the paper to mar cursive letters on the white card with a blotchy smear. The rainy veil amplified the abrupt pause into an obvious stagger because for a moment, Lumine felt the air she breathed in chilled her to the bone. The ruined card was quickly discarded before the woman could see the mess that she made by mentioning her name. Another smooth glide across the paper, a heartfelt 'For my daughter, Lumine'dripping with silent disbelief and scornful laughter.

Two possibilities were swimming in her mind now, but neither of them was something Lumine wanted to think about. But then, a cold sensation settled on her cheek, and looking up, it was the woman's hand.

How—

"Lumine," she called, voice cracking as though it was hard to bear the weight of that name, "have you forgotten about me?"

The slap on that hand was probably instinctual; a gesture powered by a bad concoction of confusion, anger, and surprise. Golden eyes stared wide at the woman, so wide that it was physically hurt. But more than that…

More than that…

"Forget?" Lumine laughed. It sounded miserable. "How can I forget?"

How could she, when everything up until the millisecond she breathed now, was the fruit of what this woman did to her and Aether years ago?

Resentment was something Lumine had been trying to suppress for years, and she had been doing well. All was good. And yet this one gesture pushed it up, urging her to lash out and scream and cry at the same time. Nothing held her back, yet there Lumine was: standing behind the counter, left cheek scorching and hands gripping her apron tight. Lips sealed shut with eyes staring straight at the woman who seemed to be on the verge of breaking.

Funny how a rejection could affect someone so greatly. This was why it was better to not have any expectation at all than to place it too high above and out of your own reach.

"It's been years," Lumine found herself speaking. She could hardly recognize her own voice. Cold. Distant. Hateful. "What are you doing here."

"Dear, why are you being so—"

"State your business here quick or not at all."

The silence felt like bricks tumbling down on her, not even the noisy rain could fill the gap and Lumine prayed the woman would just keep quiet. Keep all of it to herself, say nothing, and leave. Because more than anything, Lumine wanted to run away and hide. But where? The farther she ran, the longer it would be to solve this. That was why she stood her ground and tackle it all in one go. Damage be damned—she was not losing this.

"Lumine," the woman sighed. Pleaded. It made the lump in her stomach grew bigger. "Let's go home."

Home?

"Home?" The voice repeating the word reverberating in her mind was dripping in disbelief. "What home?"

"Home," the woman repeated, hopeful—conveniently oblivious to the building anger and incredulity within wide aureate eyes and humorless smile. "Fontaine. It's a big house in the capital with a beautiful watery scene and your room is decorated with star ornaments, the way you wished before. Your father had ensured everything is perfect for you to settle in and even if you can't meet him, it's his wish to go and find you in Liyue and bring you back to our house to live—"

"Yourhouse," Lumine interjected harshly, tone rising several pitches it shattered the glass bubble of whatever daydream the woman was spouting about, "it'll never be my home. Here— this ismyhome."

"But we have everything prepared, dear. Little Lucent is excited to meet you and—" Lucent? Was that the name of her sister she was unaware of? It felt like the more Lumine talked with her, the more she was spouting nonsense without seeing how it was obvious that she needed no such thing.

And the woman kept talking while Lumine tried so hard to tune her voice out, reducing it into a static noise in the background together with the drizzling rain shower. What she proposed was beyond ridiculous and although Lumine never imagined a heartfelt reunion of a long-lost daughter with her mother, it felt too easy for her mother to be this talkative with her. Too light. She took this whole thing lightly when it could be anything but.

Maybe it was the death of her husband, her father, that forced her to behave this way. The shock was too much to handle she needed to find a distraction from the crashing reality. Lumine knew best about this, she did. But it did not mean she could go and comfort her; her resentment far outweighed the sympathy she knew she could offer but chose not to.

If this woman could be cruel enough to abandon her two children, then Lumine could be cruel enough not to welcome her back in her life. She, along with that dead man, was no longer her family. Family was Aether. And Aether was her home. But Aether was—

"Speaking of which, where is your brother? Aether?"

Lumine felt her heart plummet as the woman uttered his name. The tight grip on her apron loosened until her hand rested on her side, limp.

"Dead."

The silence that followed was loud, ringing in her ears and it brought to her the realization that maybe she, too, had been denying it. That he,Aether, wasdead. But thank Archons that one answer shut her mouth because Lumine could not take it anymore. The nonsense laced with sugary words and hopes, forced excitement to cover up desperation, lovely daydreams of an ideal life, and empty promises. It made her sick to the gut.

Lumine did not expect any comeback from her so she resumed, with every fiber of her latching onto the thin pieces of composure she had left within, "So you should offer this flower to his grave and apologize. Be happy, be grateful that even though years have passed, he was still wondering about your whereabouts and tried to contact you with every little clue he had. Aether might've considered you his family, but not me. Aether is my only family and my home. Liyue is my home because it's where he is."

The woman lost her smile. Gone. It was as if there had never been one. One shaky hand reached out to her over what small distance between them, probing, invading. It made her flinch.

"I…" a pause, a deep inhale, a stumble. "I'm sorry, de— Lumine. I-I just… I thought t-that... that…"

Hesitance painted broken sentences shades darker. A babbling mess. Ruined. Lumine did not want to hear more of this.

The floor was cold under Lumine's bare feet when she padded out of her workstation to face the woman and her heart ached so much in a way that was different fromhanahaki. All light dimmed from her face, perhaps too taken aback by her rough words and blatant rejection. Looking close, lines and dark circles were hanging under her eyes; traces of pressure and shock deterring peaceful rest.

"Go. Live on," she pushed the flower bouquet to the woman. Stiff arms hugged the soft paper-wrapped glaze lilies and qingxins and cecilias. A condescending gaze stared hard at their overlapping shadows under bright fluorescent light. Lumine's voice a murmur, "Without me. Without us. Know that I never wanted to see you, nor do I want to see you again."

Lumine's knuckles were white. The woman's eyes dimmed into murky yellow. The silence was black.

Flickers of anger were a collection of hot licks, contained in her chest the way those pretty flower petals and buds were. They started to claw into her flesh and leave a blazing trail and Lumine knew this kind of fire would not die easy. It penetrated deep and deeper, hard and harder until suddenly there was no more. The anger, flashes of lightning, and storm noisy in her mind faded away in a heap of wobbly exhale. She closed her eyes momentarily, heard the gentle ring tapping into the silence, and when she opened her eyes again, the woman was gone.

The afternoon shower receded into a light drizzle and pillars of sunlight fell through the cracks of grey clouds hanging above Liyue. One of them made it to her shop through the window, creating a pool of glow to accentuate the emptiness of the room. Lumine wondered, with words bubbling and breaking at the surface of her subconscious, how long time had passed after she uttered that one last line. Ten minutes? Fifteen?

Fifteen minutes was still too short of time to completely erase the sight of desperation and echoes of vain hopefulness from her mind. It was too short to sort things out. It was not enough, therefore Lumine settled with having this odd sensation of disjoint. Mind from the body, rationality from the mind.

With time, Lumine learned to move her frozen body; one stiff movement at a time—fingers brushing beige apron, small wobbly steps guiding her to stand near the window. Head looked up to the sky and golden orbs caught glimpses of blue amidst grey.

To think again, their encounter felt like watching a crumbling sandcastle; slow, steady into its ruin. Lumine did not mean to ruin her. But perhaps amidst the flurry of anger and surprise and everything else, in the end, she pushed her too hard, too rough, and then she crumbled. The woman with sunshine hair and a gentle voice. The woman who wanted her to return. The woman who once abandoned her and found her again after years.

Hermother.

The rain did not last long. It came and went away together with her mother. Maybe for good. Forever.

Forever is a long time.

Forever was enough.

A ring from the telephone had her approaching the counter in half a jog; picked up the receiver, jotted down all things heard, then placed back the receiver after a 'thank you' was said, a pitch higher and sounded so, so enthusiastic. Lumine did not recognize her voice, nor did she feel like she really got what was said by the person on the other side of the line. Yet what was written on the logbook was so detailed, a word-for-word note down to the dot.

Her mind was not in it. Shewas not in it.

What gentle day.

It was far from a gentle one, far from being a peaceful day. She should have known not to take things at face value; the sudden rain could have been her warning to the nonexistent peace within the day.

Maybe she should close the shop early today.

A sigh spilled out of her lips together with the jingle ringing and a gust of wind. Lumine worked on a smile, and it stiffened when she saw the person entering.

It was a millelith officer.

In the last seconds of winter, Snezhnaya was a mixture of piling snow and warm sunlight. Trickles of melted ice rained down from the roof to create burrows on the snow below. Childe heard woods breaking—someone might be chopping the woods to prepare the hot bath, most probably his big brother—yet it was completely dark when he looked outside. The sound gradually faded away. Away and went out in a snap, leaving him in total silence with nothing much to see except a wooden table.

So he approached it, noticing a portion of warmsyrnikiand whipped cream laid there. The chair made no sound as he pulled it but sitting there gave him odd feelings. All felt familiar in this dim space, except for one thing.

The cup was filled with coffee.

He never had coffee back in Snezhnaya.

A shadow fell on the side across him, and Childe felt a presence. Thin and quiet. A familiar presence, one that was almost fleeting and light.

The world wrapped Childe in a warm embrace of faint lemon scent, steady humming noise soft to ears, and yellow light landing on the floor. Flowing white steam was a fog blurring his sight on something of golden and white palette. Something, somebody. Gossamer fabric swaying in the corner of his eyes and glints of glass reminded him of something.

A place.

A person.

"Childe?"

Blue orbs washed away all haze to see the white ceiling and bright light. Something damp rested on his forehead and fell down the moment he pushed himself up.

Childe fingered the towel on his lap, wondering why it was there and why he was sleeping on a bed. His last memory was a dark alley somewhere in Liyue, a few blades inches too close to the skin, and a pained growl that died out quick. He remembered nothing else besides that, but that was fine. It was how it was. Nothing out of the usual except for the fact that he barely recognized the room he was in and that he also thought that he was a little bit familiar with this arrangement. Like it had happened before. Like he was ever here before.

A room, which was not his flat, was strangely familiar. The scent? The placements?

This place…

He knew this place. He had been there before; once it was him lying on the very same bed, once it was him falling asleep on the floor by the bed, holding a someone's hand—

"Home? What home?"

Childe turned. The faint sound came from somewhere, probably one room away from where he was. It was a familiar voice, one that immediately brought back memories as if they had been kept away previously. He knew that voice.

Ojou-chan?

His feet brought him out of the room, past the kitchen, and stopping at the fine line between the space of her house and shop. Standing there, he could see the small back of the girl; rigid and although she might not notice it, Childe picked up the quivers. The tiniest sway and stagger. The drawback from every word she said with an unhurried but firm tone.

"But we have everything prepared, dear," Childe heard another voice, one that was not all that unfamiliar. The hair and face too. The woman was the same if not for the visible exhaustion and probably stress and grief after the death of her husband. But above all, Childe wondered as he hid behind the wall, leaning into it, some things were weird, and questions were quick to rise.

What was the wife of the man he killed days ago doing here? Didojou-chanknow her? What's with all this house thing?

Why did it sound like the woman was not welcome here despite the flower bouquet that Childe saw?

As the woman went on with her story and the girl kept her silence, Childe immediately considered a few things. One, they were related; and two, if they were related in some way, the woman was not in good favor. And although Childe was never one to eavesdrop, he could not help but stayed because all this might have anything to do with his mission.

"Speaking of which, where is your brother? Aether?"

Shit.

The urge to peek and see how the girl react was strong, but Childe decided not to risk himself getting caught over his own curiosity. And concern. Because he knew it was a tough topic for her, something she, perhaps, preferred to gloss over with a tight smile instead of elaborating. Childe knew that. He knew she would just—

"Dead."

Blue eyes widened. Something in that voice twisted his stomach, maybe it was the crack or maybe it was the straightforwardness. Childe did not know. All he knew was that the next thing that came after the stuttering mess was a toughened voice on the verge of breaking. Like glass. It was not frail, nor was it weak. But give it the weight more than it could bear then it would break. Anything would. Even the hardest metal could break under pressure.

But she did not. Yet.

Childe crossed his arms, eyes gazing at the floor as he heard footsteps fading out together with the echoes of the merry jingle. The contrast made him frown, even more so when he stepped away from the wall to see how the emptiness seemed to be raining down on the lone standing figure.

He could step into the bubble—he knew she would allow it. But he did not. Because Childe was, for the first time in his life, afraid of taking too much of someone's space, of her space. Most of the time, there was this invisible wall standing around her that he paid attention to. However, this time, that wall was shaking like a leaf against the wind. Although there was less to nothing shown on her face, Childe knew it could be the opposite inside.

So he waited. Waited until he saw small twitches of fingers brushing her apron. Wobbly steps until she reached the window. The slow tilt of her head to look at the sky. For a moment, Childe decided, it seemed as though she was affected by whatever her deal with that woman from earlier. And if he took the way her brother, Aether, came into the equation, then it would not be too hard to guess what it between them was.

An acquaintance at the very least, a distant relative at most. A family member. A mother.

Mother?

Blonde hair and golden eyes. Soft features and small figure.

A loud ring broke his train of thought, shoving him away from the deep musing and back to the scene. Childe watched as the girl answered the call and wrote down what was most probably another order for her flower bouquet. The overly enthusiastic voice made him frown, and he wondered what was occupying her mind for the sigh she let out after.

Somehow, self-conscience brought him to the idea that it was time to let the girl know that he was up. Tiptoeing was not his style—if anything, it would be more of that pain in the ass Scaramouche. But perhaps the little guy was right; Childe had grown soft. Personally, he did not feel such thing as killing in cold blood was something he could do in a heartbeat.

(But could you kill her?)

There's no reason to.

In all honesty, there were many reasons to kill her, to forever silence her. And yet, Childe never brought himself to go anywhere near that line of thought. He trusted her, and although he had betrayed her, he could not really explain why he placed his trust in her. It was clearly a big disadvantage for him, but why would he risk it?

Flashes of water trickling down flooded his head, replaying a memory of a pained expression and tears cascading down a cheek. It made his chest tighten, and bubbles of unease came up and filled his stomach.

For some reasons unknown, it had been that way whenever Childe found her frowning or crying, and it was something far from disgust. More than anything…

I…

The front door was pushed open, and it brought with it a cold gust of wind with the scent of rain. A familiar sight entered the vision that pushed him back into hiding. What the heck was a millelith officer doing here?

Few scenarios immediately came up—the guy saw Childe dealing his stuff back in the alley and tailed him here or the guy was here to question the woman who just left. It was more likely the former as Childe just dealt with some people who needed to be dealt since over a week ago. If it was indeed the case, then at least she would be safe from further questioning but if it was the latter…

Would it be better to silence him too?

(And the reason is…?)

His body stiffened. Right. What was the reason—

"A-Are you okay?!"

Childe hurled away and stood with a hand gripping the doorframe tight while the other reached for a dagger hidden on the side of his pants. The amount of surprise he felt rose to the limit the moment he heard the officer's voice. What exactly happened?

"Miss? Are you okay?"

Oh.

His nails dug into the wooden frame as his stomach clenched.

"It's... okay. I'm g-good."

There was nothing involving a cough or blood. There was nothing like when she collapsed before.

There were just tears.

Long strides got him quickly to her side, turning and pulling her toward him, close, with a hand resting on the back of her head gently. Blue orbs glinted sharply at the officer who flinched and took some steps back under his gaze. He flashed a business smile at the millelith officer.

"Apologies, customer, but it seems we have to close our shop early."

In his arms, the girl's shoulder shook as sobs muffled by his shirt reached his ears. Tugs made by thin fingers on his shirt made his chest heavy. There was no clear reason why, even as the millelith left the shop and he could hold her tighter and contain her within his arms, but—

Dear Tsaritsa…

Childe hated her tears.

Notes:

Helenium—tenderness, tears. I was going to write this chapter without angst but i passed out and when i woke up, it's already filled with angst.

Anyway hello, welcome back to your three-four monthly subscription of chilumi angst! I apologize for the one month delay. These past 4 months were unnecessarily brutal so i just had the chance to write and complete the chapter at the end of june. Oh also today is my birthday so yep this is my birthday gift to you who waited so patiently. Thank you so much

As always, i'm loving every comments and kudos you left. I might not be able to reply all comments, but they're like the food to my thirsty soul. Ahaha i hope you enjoyed this chapter and i'll see you on the future chapters!

Find me on twitter! xxccxy

Chapter 16: delphinium

Summary:

tell me about despair, yours, and i will tell you mine.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter fornotes.)

Chapter Text

There was an ache somewhere in Lumine's chest, a small crack on the surface of a glass pane standing before her, an acute sense of discord between her and reality. She tapped it lightly, a small nudge of fingertips, and the crack spread like a creeping web.

When everything shattered, the scenery morphed into fuzzy images and sculpted shapes. Splashes of colors danced in a flurry and faint cracklings echoed in the ears. There was an odd sensation of being trapped in a room full of water—a thick blanket of quietude encapsulating her in a heavy embrace, all senses dulled, and time marched slower. The room was a cold space missing its means, distant to her like a far-off memory, yet not all that foreign. Amidst the hint of familiarity and trying to discern the crackles, the lingering discordant diminished. Minuscule fragments of clarity lulled the ambivalent sways of mind to tranquility. Realization permeated and brought her back from her aimless wander in a daydream.

Somewhere, there was a murmur of a voice that chased away the reverie. Maybe her silence invited confusion, but she could not deny how the growing lump in her chest robbed all of her attention. Aureate irises blinked, erasing the remnants of the vague images of a woman to capture a sight. There was someone in a familiar uniform standing in front of her. Brown hair and hazel eyes, tall figure, and firm stature. A person. A man.

A millelith officer.

What was he doing here?

Images of a person rose to the mind immediately, one who sauntered onto her in a high fever and mind barely holding onto consciousness. A whole weight fell on her and all else silent with his slumber—the man who once again occupied her room in a similar manner for reasons unclear.

Childe.

"Welcome," Lumine mustered a small smile along the late greeting before turning around and walking to her messy workstation, "please take your time to look around."

That was a different line from the one she said in the morning after she patched Childe up. Back then, her"May I help you?"sounded to be a good question as a citizen of Liyue. Then, the"I haven't"was said in a tremble in response to"Have you seen a young man with blue eyes and orange hair recently around here?". They were two different lines, and yet, the intention behind them was still the same. The feeling that accompanied those words was still the same.

But would it be fine for her to shield him? To feign obliviousness to whatever chaos Childe might have caused before dragging himself there?

Was she making the right choice?

"Miss."

Her foot halted mid-step. She caught herself from flinching at the stiff voice resounding in the cold space. Her heart skipped a beat and breaths hitched in her throat. Her head ached, thumping a bit too hard as she made her quick turn back at the millelith officer. She prayed, then, that he would make it quick and not see past her lies.

"Yes? Do you need—"

But her question fell short at noun. The rest barely left Lumine's throat with shades of blue filling her field of sight. Maybe there were white and green too. Uncertainty mingled until a blink cleared it.

This…

Glaze lilies, three of them, held by the officer as if he was offering them to her. They looked vibrant and fresh, swaying gently on the shaky but firm hold. Golden eyes shifted from the flowers to the man; a wondering look accentuated by the slight tilt of her head visibly seen.

"Oh, these…" he caught on, clearing his throat, "glaze lilies. For you. From earlier this morning. I-I mean—"

Lumine stared at the flowers—flashes of pictures of tender sunlight landing on a figure with a smile like a sun rose to mind—and then her gaze quickly fell back to her hands. They were clenching her apron, fingers digging into the fabric, all taut joints and almost white knuckles. Blood rushed to the fingers when she let go—an odd sense of warmth and tingle washed over and it decided to stay. The sight of those three glaze lilies made her stomach twist.

But the officer did not look like he was here for Childe.

Good…

A light sigh escaped her before she realized it. Half a weight lifted from stiff shoulders, and although she detested the sight of those blooms, there was nothing else she could do; everything seemed to be distorted once again, with the voice of the man brushing her far in the background. A yellow beam of light turned a bit more pronounced and shadows of wooden stools grew apparent on the floor.

How long had she been standing there since the woman was gone? Since everything froze within her while everything else passed her by in a dizzying blur, had she taken a step away from the consuming stillness of this space?

The dissonance returned as if it never left her, to begin with. It was funny how something related to the Harbinger could rob her attention just like that, even if all was just a wild guess on her part.

"—so I gathered some for you, miss."

Lumine blinked, chased away disarrayed thoughts, and gathered herself. More than half of what the man said barely registered in her head, but at least she caught the last line before it all went silent again. Visible fidgets made by the officer made her wonder if it would be rude to ask him to explain it once more.

"You're from this morning," Lumine settled by addressing his identity. By luck, maybe he had yet to introduce himself somewhere along his long speech so she could hide the fact that she barely listened to him.

"Ah, yes, miss. I, um, I'm glad that you remember me," he replied, smiling almost bashfully. "I hope this doesn't come out as rude to you…"

She offered him a polite smile, a bit stiff, but at least it was something. "No, thank you for helping me earlier."

That seemed to affect him positively because Lumine could see him perk up and a smile stretching wider at her. His face was dusty pink and dark eyes could not stay put on one object. In the end, they settled on looking at the ground, at the distance between them, but the color on his face grew deeper.

Was it that hot here for his face to be that red?

It just rained, though.

Maybe he had been running or maybe it was a little bit stuffy here even if it felt cold for Lumine. The cold, after-rain wind must have entered together with the man, and although it should be something fleeting, Lumine thought that it was more a plausible reason for her shiver. Because amidst the coldness kissing her skin and mind half wandering away, there was something she could not quite point out dwelling inside her. Maybe it was just her imagination, but everything else—the dullness, the discord, the odd sensation of being there and not at the same time—felt too real to be just a fragment of her imagination.

Somewhere inside her, her heart was a space chocked full of flowers. It was suffocating. It dragged her further down into the depth of the quicksand. And yet everything also felt like vacant space, like a big hole gaping; sucking in every last of hers but nothing could fill it, still. Lumine almost wanted to laugh at how ridiculous the state she was currently on was. If this could be called as an emotion, what would it be?

Colors started to be diluted and shapes became distorted into blobs of wobbly mess. The pure white and delicate blue of the glaze lilies shifted into an indescribable clutter and glimpses of smile were blurred out by a thin sheet of watery marbles. It rolled down and left trails of warmth, lingering moisture, and a beat of surprise.

"A-Are you okay?!"

Confusion rode the way Lumine took away those pellucid marbles, letting them melt into small water droplets on her fingertips. But they fell again, more and unbidden, bigger and warmer. The world was a lackluster blur in Lumine's vision as the thin glass pane appeared in her mind to crumble down on her feet.

All was shattered—her wall, her heart. And those droplets…

Tears?

Did she cry?

"Miss? Are you okay?"

The officer. She needed to reply to him.

But what?

"It's… okay," she managed to keep a steady voice albeit hesitant. And although it was so tight in her throat and a wobbly mess was threatening to escape, Lumine kept on, "I'm g-good."

Lie.

Lie, lie, lie.

Everything tasted foul in her mouth. Sharp bitterness washed ashore to seize a bad facade, prompting her to let go of the play pretend and just break down.

(Lumine, you're such a terrible liar.)

Nothing was okay. Nothing was good. Everything was a big ball of a mess contained in a small frame. But she could not let it out. Not yet. The millelith officer was still standing in front of her, seemingly worried about her for the second time that day, and she would not let anyone see her outburst.

But fate had never been so kind to her; the wave of emotions came flooding in after the prolonged moment of mind teetering in the emptiness and dullness, amidst the acute sense of disconnection and floating in uncertainty. A whole lot of embarrassment and bottled-up anger pushed out those tears that she could barely catch with her hands; falling unceasingly, unheeding her silent plea. She bowed her head low, wishing her hair could obstruct such an embarrassing display from the man.

Stop crying. Stop crying.

(So shameless, Lumine. You're so shameless.)

For the second time that day, Lumine wanted to run away. Somewhere quiet and empty. Somewhere far away. It did not have to be a closed space, just—

Anywhere safe… a place where I'm free to feel this way…

Because she was not even safe from her own mind.

Maybe if I disappear…

A strong hand pulled her, forcing her to turn around before a familiar tobacco scent hit her. There was warmth all over, chasing away coldness but cutting every last string that held her from breaking. Trembling shoulders kept hidden by arms circling her small figure and broken whimpers muffled by a shirt damp from tears. A hand pulled her closer, deeper into the warmth, brushing her hair gently.

Yet the voice she heard was anything but.

"Apologies, customer," a strong voice was a foreign sound to her ears, almost sounding hostile while kept under a collected tone, "but it seems we have to close our shop early."

Childe…?

Fingers found their place on his shirt, clutching the fabric tight as if letting go meant falling into the deep abyss. The arms holding her in place tightened their grip on her body, and once again, Lumine let herself completely engulfed within his bigger figure. She did not want to expect much from this gesture, did not want to get lost in her own fantasy that might not even be close to the truth. And yet, it felt safe there within his arms, within the warmth which scattered quickened heartbeats and sheltering hopes.

Murmurs of jingle sailed to her ears before everything dropped to a prolonged silence. Lumine basked in Childe's presence—a little bit rough but comforting, the kind that made her want to stay for just a minute longer. Maybe there was even a desire to monopolize him, but while Lumine was breaking, she was not sure if it was born from her feelings or simply out of desperation.

The second wisp of deep musk and thin tobacco scent brushed away thoughts swelling in her mind. Whirlwind swept all emotions ashore, untying the tight knot that weighed her down, letting more tears spill to dampen his maroon shirt. Broken sobs interrupted the comforting shush and the rhythmical taps on her back, reverberating within the confine of fleeting safety and fragile wishes.

Don't go.

Here. Together.

Stay with me.

Everything hurt. Everything—

"It's okay." A gentle whisper. A tightening grip. Warm. "I'm here."

A deep voice washed away hesitation and trembles crept on her skin. It felt as though a comforting breeze glided to her, blowing away tangled thoughts in a clean sweep almost like a soft brush. Lumine always thought of Childe as an ocean, a calm, unfathomable deep sea that invited her to dive into its depth. But right now, Childe was an open field of grass, a lush prairie where its green met the vast blue sky on its horizon. A grass plain—it did not let anything hidden.

Time was an irrelevant notion flown out of the mind. The lengthened shadows and the blue sky gradually showed hints of an orange tinge that barely mattered amidst the violent wave of emotions. There was a strong urge to crumble more, to completely break, but Childe prevented her to. He held her, maybe helped her to stay whole—gathered bits and pieces of hers.

Childe just stayed, gathered all of Lumine's fallen pieces, without deciding what was next for her. That was his comfort.Thatwas what she needed.

It felt somewhat odd after those waves passed, like the calm sea after a storm or muted light beams fell through crevices of rainy clouds. Lumine was still standing on that prairie within the stretch of her imagination; probably trying to find where the green met the blue, probably still looking for any answers to all this. Her prairie and her ocean… they both still embrace her in a comforting warmth and calming scent.

All felt calm and warm until the hand resting on her back moved to brush away strands of hair clinging to her damp cheek. Calloused thumb lingered, catching fallen tears before they melted. A gentle tilt of the head, almost like a silent request, brought deep blue to view. Amidst the watery blur and the afternoon sun pouring saffron glow into the space around them, the deep ocean invited her in.

And sinking she did.

As the last few tears welled and fell, Lumine caught the growing defined colors and shapes, lines and shadows, contrasts, and everything in between. Perhaps there were more than just those, perhaps she missed more than what she had noticed. But one last thing she captured before everything seemed to freeze once again was a smile.

"Better?"

There was tenderness riding his voice, dulcet caresses over the cold skin and glistens in his gaze. Whispers carried by the still air and warm hold on her small frame. The way he spoke was unbearably soft as if trying to peel the silence sleeping around them one layer at a time.

A part of her chest tightened, taking the word said almost in concern close to her heart. Maybe she was imagining it, shemust beimagining it, but the way Childe looked at her now—

I've never seen it before.

As if he was in pain. And although the man was smiling and fingers left lingering warm traces on her skin, his gaze pronounced something akin to sadness. There ought to be something other than that in those orbs, but she could not find it.

So instead of prolonging such meaningless pursuit, Lumine settled with a wordless albeit somewhat hesitant nod.

"Good," he breathed out a sigh, hand straying away from her hair to the shoulders. "Let's get you seated."

His hand held hers, warm and safe, as he led her to the wooden stool. Lumine could have walked on her own, yet shaking him off was the last thing on her mind. There was something with their bare hands touching—the warmth transferred to each other, the texture of his palm, the firm but gentle grip he had on hers. Lumine knew she was reading too much into it, hoping a little bit too much from what she usually let herself, but she might never have the chance to revel in this kindness if she were to let go of his hand.

After all, chances existed for those whose life was blooming.

Hers… it was withering away.

The moment Lumine made her seat, his hand slipped away. His figure retreated while she had her watery gaze fixed on her interlaced fingers on her lap. There was a big chance he would ask her about it, about this kind of outburst. Yet at the same time, Lumine was unsure of what to say. Where to start. How to explain it.

A pair of feet entered Lumine's narrow field of view, making her look up to find Childe returning with a white cup.

"You must be thirsty after…" he trailed off, frowned a little, then continued, "It's water."

Cheap ceramic cup felt bland on her hands, neither warm nor cold. Her gaze fell on the water inside, swaying uncertainly with her unsteady hold. It did bring relief when the water slid down her throat. However, the lump residing there only grew bigger. Lumine ended up holding the empty cup without looking up, and although she did feel better now, shame caught on her too fast that she could not evade it.

"I…" she started after a stretch of silence, voice cracking and tilting all over. One deep breath and then, "Sorry you have to see that."

"It's—" he stopped. There was a hint of exasperation in that one word. A beat passed before he finally continued, quieter this time. "What's wrong?"

Everything.

Lumine felt like she was swallowing pins and needles when that answer appeared in her mind. Everything, she wanted to say, everything was wrong. Everything was not the way she wanted it to be. Like Aether, like her illness, like her parents. And yet at this point, she was unable to say it—the blame directed at herself, the pain and regret that followed what had been done and passed.

A slow inhale and exhale swept away phantom pain in her throat, but it could not erase the tremble from her voice.

"You should rest more," Lumine told him instead. Her fingers rubbed each other uneasily, fumbling sloppily and her nails grazed her skin. She closed her eyes and gripped the cup tighter. "You were burning up."

His body heat was still vivid in her mind. Pale face and unfocused eyes looking at her amidst delirium. Shaky hands and wobbly steps. Even though the same heat was no longer present when she clung to him, Lumine had no other way to steer the conversation away from what Childe was trying to get them into. Embarrassment was one thing, but most of all, she was not sure if she could explain it properly.

She was not even sure if she should tell him about it.

There was no immediate answer to her obvious attempt of changing the subject, and that was fine. Because in the darkness, in the silence, Lumine wished for everything to melt away, to dissolve into grains of sand blown by the wind, and that when she opened her eyes, everything was just a dream.

Something touched her hand, gently unwrapped it from the cup, and guided it somewhere. Warmth seeped into her palm, chasing away frost like a tender 8 am sunlight. There was an ounce of reluctance swelling inside; to pull away or to stay.

"See," was what broke the stillness surrounding them, and his voice was quiet, like a small pebble hitting the calm lake. Eyelids fluttering open and golden orbs captured a sight; Childe crouching in front of her with her hand trapped between his hand and cheek. And then, a small, almost reluctant smile. "I'm okay."

"But you're not"was the underlying statement hidden within that tone. Lumine caught that, but she pretended not to. But pretending could only bring her so far and Childe was persistent.

He leaned into her, one free hand reached out to brush stray strands of hair away from her face, and Lumine stiffened. Maybe Childe noticed that subtle jerk of her body that he quickly pulled away. His hand, however, kept on holding hers.

"I can listen," Childe said again, his thumb brushing the back of her hand, "you've treated me, so this is the least I can do to return it."

Such a kind gesture, completely unexpected from a man who took someone's life so easily. A bit calculating, but that much was to be expected. Still… Lumine would like to believe there was more than just him returning a favor. Because maybe there was more than just his title, more than just his stance as her regular at her shop, more than just someone who could lie with a bright smile on his face.

There was hesitation skittering around the way her lips parted slightly. Silence overtook the wordless shift, and a beat passed. Lumine stared at pale fingers around the ceramic cup, counted the creases on her skirt, then whispered.

"I'm not sure what to say, what to tell. It's—" a hard swallow on her dry throat, "It's difficult to word it out. Like there's a lump in me."

Lumine was sure whatever she said was closer to an excuse rather than a clear answer. But with everything in her mind still a scattered mess, with something invisible weighing her down, the doubt that Childe would stay went strong. Knowing him, he would just nod along and went away. After all, that was how he had mostly been toward her.

And yet when a couple seconds passed and he was still seated on the floor in front of her, thumb still brushing her hand, eyes still gazing at her carefully, Lumine realized that she was wrong this time.

"No need to rush,ojou-chan. I've told you, right?" A smile, a slight squeeze on her hand. "I'm here."

Golden gaze fell on their joined hands. His warmth soothed her erratic mind, probably spreading further to her chest and making it warm. Maybe she felt a hint of twinge there, like a tiny paper cut on the fingertip, but nothing more. Maybe this was good, then.

This much, the way her feelings started to swell in her chest and created sensations of having tiny paper cuts here and there, was not a big deal.

She let her eyes wander, one inch upward at a time, and found his smile. Lumine used to wonder if she could ever receive a speck of the smile he always gave Zhongli, the one that she always watched behind the glass and secretly longed for. This one, although it was aimed at her in a way that was more like a reassurance rather than affection, it was still for her.

And now that she had it, she wanted more.

His gaze, his warmth, his presence—all of it, all of him.

Would it be possible for her to have him, though?

I…

If she could not have him…

I'll keep this memory in me.

"I've told you about my brother," Lumine started, voice quiet but steady, "and about me who went to Mondstadt to find our parents."

There was a nod, wordless, and it was as if Childe was encouraging her to continue. Lumine worked up a smile. It did not look like a smile at all—more like a messy splatter of sadness and exhaustion and pain dripping out of a cracked cup.

Still, she went on. One line, full of fake enthusiasm.

"Guess who came today?"

Maybe her hand trembled because Childe squeezed it tighter while his gaze held hers carefully, quietly, without movement. His lips pressed together as if holding back any remarks, and Lumine continued.

"She came. My mother. She—" a laugh, but her eyes, they did not laugh, "told me to go with her. To go home. Funny, right? There's no other home to me but Liyue. This place."

Aether.

'Home' was wherever she was with him. Anywhere without him was not home, and even if he was no longer around and no longer greeted her with a smile amidst the flowers surrounding him, at least there were still memories of him residing in this building, in this very space. And Lumine gathered all of it, each and every bit of what was left of him here.

Again, she mustered a smile and forced out a laugh. It did not sound any better than the former.

"Brother, too. He's here in Liyue, after all. I can't leave him alone or he might haunt me in my dreams."

Silence welcomed her after her dry laughter subsided. Childe did not say anything to her. He was just there; stared at her and held her hand quietly. It was like a silent encouragement for her to go on with all these monologues. She felt pathetic, terribly so, yet there was no such thing reflected within those eyes.

"It turned out that my father is— was a merchant. He actually managed to become one after he and my mother left us in Liyue. I can't believe it. I mean, it's amazing and good for him, but…"

For a moment, hesitation held her, and words were caught in her throat. It was not hard to tell, nor was it something that would affect her one way or another. It was simply something that happened.

Nothing really mattered.

"He died a while ago."

The moment that sentence was said, Lumine noticed a slight shift from the man sitting in front of her. It was close to a flinch, a slight pause at the way his thumb stroked the back of her hand before it continued. Something appeared in his eyes before he broke their eye contact while she picked up the way his lips formed a grim line.

This… was what made her hesitate.

But what was said could not be undone.

"He, along with my mother took a trip here to Liyue. I heard it was to settle a business-related work on his part, but who knows it was actually his last trip. Maybe the Archons did." Lumine eyed his profile, eyed the way his gaze fell to their hands instead, then added, "And you, too."

An alarm ran across his features. Childe's expression changed from something she could not truly understand to one standing somewhere between surprise and discomfort. He shifted almost uncomfortably—eyes searching for answers, fingers inching away from hers. He was probably trying to say something, anything to respond to her.

"I—"

"Don't," Lumine interjected, whispering quietly but grating against the atmosphere. "If you're going to apologize, don't."

It sounded more like a plea rather than a command. Her grip on the cup tightened. Something heavy swirled at the bottom of her stomach; a pool of indescribable emotions trapped within a tight smile and shaky breaths. Amidst all that, Lumine searched for his gaze.

"Did you know?"

About that person, about the merchant he killed, about the man who was actually her father.

Did he know?

Childe lifted his face, fixed his gaze on her, and shook his head. "There… was nothing mentioned about this in his file."

In other words, he had no idea.

Lumine sighed lightly, smile dimmed a little. "I see."

"But I—"

Am the one who killed him. Perhaps that was what the rest of the sentence if Childe did not stop abruptly and glance away once again. Lumine knew. She knew his nature, his work, his status. A Harbinger committing no crime was unheard of. Therefore, going by that statement, his action was just logical. It made sense even though it was morally wrong. Maybe that understanding was enough to have her morals questioned, but it was not like she could do anything about it.

It was not as if time would turn back if she begged the Archons.

"It's okay," sharp silence melted away with those words. A hint of resignation rode the way the next sentence rolled out of her lips. "It's something that has happened. I don't have any attachment to him and you were just doing what you were ordered to do."

The man frowned at her words, and although it sounded cold, it was the truth. He said nothing and Lumine did not try to decipher the meaning of that gaze. She just let what warmth radiated from his hand spread to her, wishing it could drive out every last inch of frost ghosting over her fingertips. There was this reluctant touch of his fingers against her and touch gradually turned to a hold. Before long, she felt his thumb stroking her hand once again.

It was as if he knew there was more to her story than just what she had told him.

"It's frustrating," Lumine began again, "the way she could say those things so easily, so lightly. Fontaine… there's no place for me there. But here… at least brother's here."

Something about the way his lips formed one grim line almost made her grimace. Perhaps he found something in her that was worthy of such a reaction. Perhaps he did, and perhaps she deserved that. Lumine held on to what was left of her forced smile.

The constant hum of the cooler a few distances away ebbed in and out in the background. Rich amber light came pouring in silently—a 4 p.m. light bright after a drizzle. An array of thoughts jumbled and uneven in mind started to lessen its pace, steadily forming a line softer to discern. Lumine no longer felt suffocated by her own mind, by everything, and by the time she realized tears were sliding down her cheek, she came to understand why.

"I envy her."

The voice saying"Let's go home"and"Home, Fontaine"echoed and diminished quick, but the image of the woman's profile did not fade as quick. A hand cupped her wet cheek, warm unlike her mother's, and caught her tears.

"I envy her freedom."

The way she could bring herself to see the world, to find herself a 'home', to be standing in front of her after years passed and asked her to come with her. The way she grieved for the death of her husband but still stood tall, selling Lumine dreams about their house back in Fontaine and how she would fit just right in there.

"I envy… her bravery."

Because Lumine could never. Her bravery had died under piles of regret rained over her after Aether's death. There were too many cracks and holes within her to contain and nurture such things, and there was nothing for her to use to fill that hole and make her whole again. Lumine was a perfect example of a vase broken beyond repair, draped in a heavy sheet of guilt, ready to be plunged deep into the pit.

"A life without guilt and regret. A life where things are fine even when they're not. She has such an enviable life," a sharp inhale, a wobbly sigh, "while I'm here drowning in everything I wished an illusion."

"Ojou-chan…"

"I've had enough of them. But they won't leave me alone. They returned every night in my dreams. Sometimes I wonder if it would be better if I die—"

"You—"

"—then I'll be at peace. They won't continue to swallow me and I'd be able to meet my brother. Maybe I'd be happier that way, maybe I'd finally be forgiven. By Aether. Even if he appeared in my dream and told me to live on, I can't continue on like this. I can't stop hating myself and wished for everything could have turned out differently if I—"

There was a weight on her shoulders, a sudden tug forward, a faint bitter scent that made the rest of the sentence hitch somewhere and disappear. Something fuzzy tickled the side of her face, orange and familiar even if everything was a mess of distorted colors and shapes in her eyes. Warmth came next and realization came last.

"Don't."

A clutch. A hug. A firm voice, but quiet like a whisper.

"Don't say that."

Surrounding her was the faint scent of smoke and ash, with strong arms holding her in place and distance reduced to nothing. Broken laughter emerged before it died like a fleeting noise swallowed by raspy breaths. Lumine desperately held back sobs from breaking, clamping her mouth shut and biting her lips hard. How ridiculous she must be—to cry so much in such a short amount of time, to pathetically cling onto this warmth she knew would not last nor was it meant to be hers.

Feeble hands pushed him away to no avail. The hold he had on her only grew tighter.

"Breathe," his voice gentle, deep, and soft to the ears. "Slow, easy."

His voice was the same gentleness wrapped in a heavy dose of concern. The glow of afternoon light diminished behind blurs of droplets falling unceasingly. Telltale of shudders caught somewhere in their embrace and Lumine tried to break her cry to breathe.

Stop…

The tears, the hiccups, the tremble of shoulders trapped by firm hold—she needed to stop them. Lumine did not mean to cry. She thought she had everything sorted out. Done. Under control. Yet it seemed that she did not know herself, did not understand what she, her heart, wanted. It was somewhat funny how she could feel both like herself and not while feeling so broken and intact all at the same time.

She had never felt so much stranger to herself before.

"From where I'm from, winter is way colder than here and there's snow all year long."

Golden eyes blinked slowly, spilling hot tears onto his shirt. A faint clatter reached her, and then she realized the cup in her hand was no longer there. His hold on her, loosening for a moment before that clatter resounded, had now returned to the same tight yet comfortable one. Lumine shifted slightly, adjusted her position, and wrapped her arms around him.

Tell me more, she wanted to say, yet her mouth was unable to say anything besides the subsiding sobs.

But Childe caught it.

"We rely on fire to warm ourselves so in the morning, the first thing I do after washing my face with freezing cold water is to chop firewood with my siblings. Enough for a day, at least. In the meantime, my mother makes breakfast and my father prepares for hunting. Or ice fishing, depending on the weather."

Snezhnaya. She had heard about it. Cold climate with lots of snow, a land with much more advanced technology, a faraway place.

His homeland.

"Whenever I went ice fishing with him, he always told me stories about adventurers and knights, wizards and heroes. I loved them. Even I used to want to be an adventurer and hero."

The sound of his chuckles, along with the trembles of his shoulders, brought a bit of smile to Lumine's face hidden by his shirt. There was this kind of softness in Childe's voice as he recounted his past, a mixture of fondness and reminisce. She was not sure if this was an attempt of calming her down, or if he simply wanted to tell her for no particular reason.

Whichever it was, Lumine was grateful.

"I heard a lot of stories from my father and liked them all, especially about the brave adventurer who journeyed around Teyvat and fought evil. I thought that adventurer was so cool and I told him that I also want to be an adventurer in the future," he continued still with the same gentle voice with a hint of happiness there. "He laughed at me. Maybe thinking it was a silly, childish dream, and it kinda hurt my childish pride."

"So one early morning in the middle of winter, I set out on a secret journey. An adventure. I didn't think much about the snow, the wind, or the weather in general because I've been through this kind of thing for years. A little bit of snow and wind couldn't possibly hinder me from going and seeing the world outside my hometown. The naive me went out before anyone awake with just a bag filled with leftovers from yesterday's dinner and a knife that wasn't even sharp."

His arms let go of her, and their body regained their distance but was still close. A hand wiped away traces of tears as he gazed at her, "That whole childish dream was a reckless thing, and it led to trouble. Big trouble."

Golden eyes blinked as they returned his gaze. Her voice was a whisper when she asked, "What happened?"

"I went to the woods in the middle of the heavy snowfall, and with just imagination-born experience, I got lost after a few turns. The path where I came from couldn't be traced—the snow had erased my footsteps, and in the dark, sight wasn't something I could rely on," he continued. "Staying still without warmth could kill me, so I pushed on. On, and on, and on, until the snow I stepped on sunk."

He took her hand, giving it a squeeze.

"And then I fell into a pit," he paused, thinking. "Or a cliff. I couldn't really remember it, but the fall felt like forever. It must be a high fall."

The image of a young Childe, smaller and a lot more feeble than his current physique, flashed through her mind. He could not be bigger than the kids she often saw playing on the streets around her shop. The questionHow did you survive?stayed deep in her throat.

"Somehow, I survived. Maybe the thick snow broke my fall," Childe continued as if reading her mind, but maybe the question was shown in her face and Childe was good at reading her. "They found me three days later, unconscious with a high fever. But it was an unknown illness and no known medicine could cure me. You could say I was in a coma back then, with chances leaning more to death than recovery."

That promptly reminded Lumine of her own illness. Herhanahakihad no known cure, even Zhongli said so.

"But you're here," she found herself saying. It was hard to not be tainted by petty jealousy when he managed to survive while her only options were either surgery with an uncertain success rate or death. "You… survived."

That line was almost said dripping with envy. Disgust immediately clawed into her and made her bite her lips to prevent a mocking laugh to escape.

I'm so pathetic.

Shame nestled on her, heavy and condescending.