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Albedo doesn’t dream.
When he closes his eyes to fall asleep, he immerses himself in his thoughts and his alchemy. His mind is always awake, always alert, but never at rest.
The traveler is somewhat similar, he supposes. Lumine is an unstoppable force that takes Teyvat by storm. Tales of her adventures have began to weave into the storybooks of history.
And when he meets her for the very first time, he realizes that they are the same in ways beyond the fragile mortality that binds the people to this world. No matter how much they look and act like them, they will never be them. Which is why, when he asks her if she is not of this world to confront that burning question, she responds with nothing more than a smile and a single word of affirmation.
However, as much as they are the same, they are different. Even though she is not of this world, she effortlessly manages to take her place among the rest. Both then and now, she unknowingly becomes the center of the universe and everyone else is caught in orbit. Yet, for all that she both is and isn't, Albedo can never figure out what compels her to have such unwavering faith in people—in him, even after knowing the truth.
Lumine visits him more often after he had told her everything. Sometimes she brings various crystalflies she had caught in a jar, while other times she brings pouches of elemental dust she had gotten from fighting the elemental hypostases.
She claims that she has free time between commissions to pay him a visit and that there were still plenty of places to explore and chests to open in Dragonspine. Instead, he wonders if this is her way of showing concern for his well-being or a way of keeping on eye on him in case he truly were to lose control. It's a bit of a morbid thought, but comforting a one nonetheless.
Short visits soon stretch into hours-long overnight stays as Lumine makes herself at home in the small makeshift lab he created. It's an alarming sense of normalcy that he quickly incorporates into his routine, but she doesn't say anything about it so neither does he.
He isn't ready to place a name to their tentative relationship just yet, but there is a name though, to the feeling that blooms in his chest, and it reminds him of—
"Albedo? What are you doing?" It’s her voice that pulls him from his thoughts, and he glances up from the paperwork spread out over the crates he'd been using as a table. "You should sleep soon. Staying up too late isn't healthy."
Lumine pads over, rubbing her tired eyes that threatened to flutter closed every so often. Despite her suggestion, she takes a seat across from him, pulling her legs up to her chest as she settles her chin on her knees. He can feel her inquisitive stare as she awaits his response. Her gaze, trained with interest, glances at the sheets of paper that scatter his workspace—papers that detail the research they had done together with a few loose sketches of her side profile buried underneath that Albedo can't quite bring himself to get rid of.
He jots down a few more mindless notes onto the open notebook to rid himself of the feeling. "From the last two experiments before your departure to Fontaine, I managed to draw a few more conclusions in regards to your... constitution," he trails off, noticing how Lumine's eyes begin to droop once again as she absentmindedly nods her head to whatever he's saying.
"Do go on," she hums with a tired smile, stifling a yawn behind her palm. Her fingers drum a steady rhythm into the wooden surface as she tries to keep herself awake for a little while longer.
He can tell that she's genuinely trying to make an effort for him, and when he finally looks up from his work to the cave entrance only to see the moon at its highest peak in the sky, does he realize how late it has gotten. Even Paimon's snores, which had long faded into background noise while he had been busy working, seemed more noticeable now that he was aware of the time.
With a barely audible sigh of resignation, that Lumine most definitely catches judging by the wider smile playing on her lips, he closes his notebook and sets the charcoal pencil he had been using to the side. The traveler uncurls herself from her sitting position and catches him by the wrist gently, as if she's almost afraid that he'll break, and she produces a small handkerchief he hadn't noticed her holding before. The metal details on her dress glimmer a dark blue before the light fades as quickly as it appears, and she carefully soaks the cloth through before wiping his hands, which had been stained with soot. Her breath, warm, fans over his skin, and he suppresses an involuntary shiver.
"You don't have to concern yourself with me," Albedo murmurs so softly that she almost doesn't hear him over the crackle of the fire that only grows louder with each passing second.
"I know that," she laughs quietly into the still space, "but I don't like being in debt, you see. You've helped me plenty of times before, so I want to do the same."
Lumine makes a small done gesture before switching over her powers back to Anemo to dry off his hands. The details change from blue to green, and it's as fascinating to watch as it was the first time he had witnessed it.
"Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't do this for just about anyone," she adds, taking him by the hand and lacing his fingers with hers. "You're the exception."
Her palms are warm, she's warm, and Albedo allows his thoughts to take a rest from his work, even if only for a moment.
By the fire, there's already another bedroll laid out for him right beside hers and Paimon's. The two of them tiptoe around the sleeping fairy in fear of waking her from her slumber, but the notion is so ridiculous that Lumine tries to hold in her laughter and her shoulders shake with the force of her exertion. And despite his insistence that he is fine, she waits until he's properly tucked into his sleeping bag before stepping away.
Idly, in the last few moments of his consciousness before he allows himself to succumb to the darkness, he's reminded of the fact that her eyes resemble pools of sunlight, bright even amidst the embers of the fire. Lumine leans over to press a gentle kiss on his forehead that lasts for barely a second, but it already feels like an eternity.
Her next words come with a promise, a confession, and the hundreds of thousands of words that will forever remain unspoken until the very end, whenever that may be.
"Goodnight, Kreideprinz."