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Lisa pens a letter to Jean in curly rushed words under the flickering candlelight. It is midnight and in Sumeru, it is constantly too hot, but especially under the light of flame. To call it a planned escapade is too much credit, but it is Lisa and at sixteen, she has yet to figure out that brazen overconfidence and precocious talent can be a double-edged sword.
She stamps a purple rose as signature, just for emphasis.
The messenger pigeon chirps. Lisa pets his head, and hands him the letter, whispers carefully, “Be a good boy. Bring this to Jean safely, okay?”
He flutters out the window.
The next evening, as dusk sets a husky hue of red onto the plains, Lisa jumps out the same window in a blaze of spark and purple and sets out on a carriage. She is visiting her prince charming, whisked away on noble steed. She falls asleep to the red dusty plains of Sumeru and wakes to the walls of Mondstadt and lush overflowing greenery in the distance. She stops beneath the towering oak tree of Windrise and tips generous coin to the driver. She sails down hills and cliffs, a bolt of lightning, quick and jolted and gone in a blink.
She stops short of when dust and dirt bleed into sand that crumbles and makes away beneath her sandals. It is a beautiful night, Lisa thinks. It is a full moon tonight, a night filled with illuminating stars and not a cloud in sight. It guides her step, makes the sand and waves sparkle and gleam like jewels do in sunlight.
Jean sees her first, sitting on a rock and dipping her legs into the swaying ocean. She waves over and shouts, “Hey!”
Lisa waves back, abandons her sandals onto the beach and laughs, bunches her summer dress into her hands and climbs onto the rock. It’s wet, washed over and eroded by the waves and salt so her efforts are in vain anyway.
“Well, aren’t you graceful?” Jean giggles, and touches Lisa’s cheek to bring her closer, pecks the other softly. Lisa reciprocates and doesn’t miss the way Jean flushes pink, even in the night. She thinks to herself that this was so worth it.
“I’m glad the messenger pigeon got here in time.”
Jean huffs, “I got his message right after dinner. The poor thing looked dehydrated. Tell me, are all the birds in Sumeru so dedicated?”
Lisa plops her feet into the ocean next to Jean’s and holds her hand, “Only the ones I choose.”
“Ever the genius, aren’t you?” Jean laughs, “What were you to do if the pigeon hadn’t arrived on time?”
“I would’ve climbed through your bedroom window and woken you up,” answers Lisa. Roles reverse: she turns into the prince charming, rescuing her damsel in not-quite distress from the tug and pull of sleep.
Jean sputters, “Falcon Coast and Mond are so far away!”
Lisa snorts, “I came from Sumeru Jean, Mond isn’t that far away.”
Jean sighs, in that way Lisa sees she does whenever Kaeya gets into something above his head – the mother glare, they have affectionately donned it - and looks at her all-knowingly, smiles slyly, “You know, I shouldn’t be encouraging this behaviour but…”
“But,” Lisa leads on.
“I’m glad you did,” Jean finishes, kissing Lisa’s forehead. Lisa smiles, and leans in, rests her head onto the crook of Jean’s neck. She closes her eyes, “I’ve missed this.”
“I’ve missed this too,” she hears Jean whisper, and pets her hair. It is just them, the ocean, and the moon. She’s close enough to smell Jean’s hair; it’s scented like lemons and sweet flowers. She remembers because she borrowed Jean’s shampoo once. It’s strangely comforting to know that hasn’t changed. They stay there like that for a while. It has been too long since the last time they’ve done this, she thinks.
Lisa lets herself stew for a while longer.
.
“We had a ball at the academy,” Lisa says easily, looking down and wiggling her toes in between the sand. She doesn’t know how long she’d been lying on Jean’s neck before finally moving, but stretching her legs feels nice. The water is surprisingly warm.
“Oh?” Jean turns her head, and without looking, Lisa knows she’s smiling, “Who did you ask?” she teases.
“No one, silly; I only have my eyes on you.”
It’s the truth; it’s been the truth since they were nine and Lisa watched Jean backhand the bully at school. She watches Jean’s cheeks bleed rosy red and giggles, places a kiss upon her lips, soft and gentle. Jean tightens the grip on her hand.
She stands up, pulls Lisa up with her and leads her onto the beach.
“C’mon then,” Jean says, “Let’s dance!”
Lisa smiles again, it’s easy, when Jean’s there, and the moonlight illuminates the glow of Jean’s own smile, flushed cheeks and glimmering eyes highlighted by the twinkling stars.
“Oh, will you lead then, my dashing prince?”
Jean giggles, bows down and brings a kiss to her hand, and guides her into steady dance, “It will be my pleasure, your highness.”
They waltz around the coastline, feet sinking and sticking to crumbling sand, with only each other for company.
Moon be their witness; stars be their guide. They need no ceremony, they need no words, for everything left unsaid in this lifetime has already been sworn. Every moment together lasts an eternity and this midnight summer’s dance will dissipate as salt seems to in the ocean. The tide will erase their footprints once the sun rises, but tonight, it is simply enough to spin in the arms of her beloved and kiss her to the crashing of the waves.
.
By dawn, as the sun clocks into work and the moon retires to sleep, Lisa hops back onto her dashing carriage. Even when scenery changes, and the sound of hooves’ clacking is dulled by sand and soil instead of paved roadways, Lisa closes her eyes, and the memory of lingering touch remains. This is enough.
Jean wakes up, the smell of sea salt still in her shorts and sand still stuck between her toes. Sunlight glazing through her window. On her table, there’s a purple rose and a card, a ‘love you’ and ‘goodbye’. She smiles and brings it close. This is enough.