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Lisa knows there is no truly escaping Mondstadt's renowned Cavalry Captain, more so his interrogations. Such knowledge leaves her stabbing at the lone, innocent sheaf of lettuce laying in the bowl before her as the summer heat bears down on her neck. Still, however hopeless, she does have a notorious history of evading certain situations (i.e., confrontation and additional workload).
Having spent the entire morning scouring through piles of ancient parchments on the brink of disintegration, the brunette is famished. Regardless, she'd gladly cut her break short and bolt thereafter if it meant dodging Kaeya's shrewd perception. Coupled with his probing, roundabout questions, she opts to steer clear of rather than dignify his baiting with answers. In fact, she did bribe a certain Alchemist to keep him at bay. At least, for a while.
To put it simply, she had created a foolproof plan to ensure her inner peace and general sanity. For today, at the very least.
So when Lisa's eyes raise and meet a faint vinca hue, clouded with a nefarious glee— one of which belongs to the man who'd suddenly materialized across her seat at Good Hunter— she can't help but believe her already limited lifespan had been cut another few years.
The second he decides to open his mouth, Lisa feels the foreboding intimations of a lifelong headache pierce her temple. Then again, she really should have known Albedo wouldn't be swayed so easily.
“In a rush?” Kaeya asks lightly, his smile gentle, coaxing, and every bit deceitful. He’s a man of concealed intentions, yet to her, his motives are blatantly visible. Lisa can't quite stifle her sigh and the noise settles between them like the noon’s aurum. Twirling the metal fork between her fingers, she replies, “Unfortunately, I have much to do today.”
Eagerly ignoring her woeful state, Kaeya leans back against the wooden chair and tilts it precariously by its hind legs. “Oh, is that so?” Lisa's eyes roll at his unconcealed amusement. “Why, I suggest you get started with our beloved Ac—”
The humid air surrounding them prickles with baleful electricity prompting Sara, in favor of keeping her life, to take several steps back and ignore them both.
“Not in front of my salad, Kaeya.”
A smirk spreads across his lips as he raises his hands in mock surrender. “Do the whole of Mond a favor and heed my advice, Lisa.” Be honest with Jean. With yourself. “I only have the best interests at heart, of course.”
“Truly, your best interests. Purest of motives, getting us laid,” Lisa says in retaliation, biting back an incoming rant: how terribly ironic of you to say so when you haven't ever scored a successful date wi— “Likewise, I appreciate the concern.”
The sorceress finds that her sarcasm is instantly met with Kaeya's raised brow and the weight of his pointed stare. She had to admit, she admired his tenacity (not so much the nosiness). A beat passes, and she folds— relenting, gracing him with a grin like the sun's radiance.
“Alright, I'm fine. You have no need to worry, I'd never wish to hurt her.” You should know I wouldn't.
“Will you ever tell her the truth?”
“Hm, about that.. I'll remind you that patience is a virtue.”
With that, Lisa shoves the last bit of her meal into her mouth before he can question her any further. She rises, giving a wave of her gloved hand, charming as ever— leaving Kaeya to pinch the bridge of his nose and despondently sigh as Sara furtively collects the extra Mora dropped atop the table.
“Right, possibly never. They're both hopeless,” The captain mutters, musing mostly to himself. It was a failure today, but at the very least, he could always try once more tomorrow, right? “Ahem,” Sara clears her throat and he turns to face the abrupt sound. “I don't mean to interrupt your.. scheming— but I must ask you to pay or leave the table, Sir Kaeya.”
──────
At its peak, the sun is unbearably bright; it drapes Mondstadt in a sweltering heat, casting an inadequate amount of shade. She ambles along the cobblestone path and recalls the overwhelming radiance in Sumeru; here, she thinks, the delicate dandelions and gale are unrivaled novelties that bring her solace. However, in spite of the breeze, pinpricks of perspiration begin to form on Lisa's furrowed brow and pale back. With a loose hold on the bare balustrade, she takes her growing discomfort as her cue to begin hauling herself up the stone stairway and towards the grand doors of the Favonius Headquarters.
The fervid gleam in her eyes grows with every passing step into the premises and she finds herself bustling in the door of the office opposite of her library's own.
In lieu of a greeting, Lisa shoots a wink as rivulets of sweat slip down from the heat. She just can't bring herself to legitimately avoid Jean; the notion evokes chuckles slightly out of breath— substituting the prior stillness of the room with a blithe sound. Pulling out the hardwood chair adjacent to her, Lisa nods at Jean with an air of nonchalance (that she most definitely feigns, especially after lunch with an uninvited guest). “Still working, are you? Why don't you take a break and have a little chat with me?”
“Good afternoon, Lisa,” Jean starts with an innocuous beam (and the Rose Witch's heart skips a beat). “You know too well how busy I can get. Although, speaking of breaks, you're quite early today. Not that I mind, I should really take one.” She rises from her seat, readily offering the linen napkin folded in her svelte hand; her blonde tresses sway at the sudden motion. “Take this. I mean no offense, but you look as if you'd just spent your lunch running under the sun..”
“My, my. Do I look that disheveled?” Much to her chagrin, she hurriedly straightens her unkempt locks. “Don't you worry, my darling Jean. I may not like exertion, but I won't bite the dust so easily.” The sorceress teases, lifting a hand over her chest dramatically before reaching out to take the dangling handkerchief.
“My—? Lisa.” Jean sputters, sliding back into her seat with rose colored hints of thinly veiled bashfulness on her cheeks. Quickly readjusting her tipped hat with a svelte hand, Lisa conceals her laughter behind the ivory napkin. “Ahem. Either way, you're always as lovely as ever,” she continues, “What I meant to say was you just look a little fatigued— Lisa? Are you alright?”
Alright?
While Lisa restrains herself from tearing her hair out, she thinks she is long past alright; ever since the day she'd reunited with the unfairly perfect Jean Gunnhildr. Sure, Lisa's mental prowess knows no bounds, and she is more than capable of handing the knights their amateur asses in a spar. Basic work! Mentoring Razor? A blessing that comes with feral, sporadic growling. Truly, he's done her proud. Check. Need a vision? Easy, the Gods had bestowed one upon her. But can the renowned Rose Witch of the illustrious Sumeru Academia withstand being on the receiving end of a compliment from the Acting Grandmaster without short circuiting?
Absolutely pathetic.
Lisa waves her hand in dismissal, turning to face the opposite side in hopes of hiding the sudden, scarlet flush exposed on her ears. “Perfectly fine. You're as cute as ever. Nothing to fret about! Just the blazing heat. Now, what was that about the Liyuean documents?”
Crimson blooms across the knight’s features before she can relay any skepticism regarding the abrupt change of subject; the carmine is stark on her skin, framed by a gentle gold. Lisa doesn’t see how the other, too, swivels her head the opposite way (but eventually, Jean does go along with it and finds the words to answer Lisa's inquiry without fumbling like a fool).
──────
Hours tick by.
The two end up working alongside one another and serve as congenial company. Lisa brings tea an hour or two later and imbues the atmosphere with subjects of all matters, occasionally contributing her perspective and opinions regarding the various indentures piled atop the main desk.
Simultaneously, Jean works through the remaining paperwork with diligence, scrutinizing every detail, flitting through the infuriatingly long pages— all efforts for Mondstadt, always. Their teacups sit next to each other, emptied and refilled every so often until dusk finally falls.
Regardless, even with significant files and a looming deadline, Jean hangs onto Lisa's every word— even when unrelated to the papers at hand. She chimes in to voice her own thoughts, chuckling at impulsively thrown quips, every now and then.
More hours pass until the sun has long since set. At this hour, they're one of the only few left at the headquarters. “Come look,” Jean beckons, rising to her feet as she gently raises a palm over the glass pane behind the chair. Lisa is at Jean's side in the blink of an eye, inclining her head to the side ever so slightly as the velvet stream of light cascades over her face. Faint amusement in her eyes, she asks, “What are we looking at?”
The sorceress asks knowing full well the answer. In spite of enduring the liabilities of the Gunnhildr name, and even the strain of the rift in her family, Jean is still, undeniably, a romantic. She simply yearns for a love she can call her own; but as a knight, she puts her obligations before herself, always.
Lisa'd noted the numerous novels hidden beneath folders, within drawers— and occasionally, even left one or two for the knight to discover. Selfishly, she wishes she could do much more than that alone.
“The stars,” Jean replies with a low and flustered lilt. “Beautiful, right?” Yes. So, so very beautiful.
“I got the idea earlier, when you mentioned Cape Oath.” Compelling herself to stare into the distance, she rambles, “It'd be nice to go stargazing together. Perhaps, even watch as the dawn breaks. We should go properly next time.. Not that I mean to force you, of course— I can be incredibly busy, and I know how much you value your rest. So only if you wish.”
“Jean, you know I'd love to. It's a date, then?” Lisa says. Archons, bless me.
“I— Well— of course? We've been on several dates before— I look forward to this one all the same.”
Oh Barbatos, guide us. She thinks it's platonic.
The moon's silver steals across Jean's face as she shifts her gaze to Lisa. Laughter escapes the knight's lips, and she slips a smile akin to stardust— one of innocent allure, as if handpicked from the heavens.
It's moments like these which leave Lisa's pulse growing erratic— she's winded and stunned dumb, all in a matter of seconds. Instances this fleeting, and all the more valuable, keep her gripping onto the sands of time that hadn't already slipped through her fingers.
Although the dawn's arrival comes long past this hour, her skin crawls with a familiar warmth which surges through her veins. It manifests a tangled mess of nerves and unbridled affection; a catalyst for inevitable, utter disaster that nestles in the pit of her stomach.
Lisa curses Kaeya's attempts at "couples" counseling, every single one of the winking stars above, stupid platonic dates, Jean's impossibly gorgeous smile that will most definitely remain engraved in her memory for weeks (forever)— and then, she laughs too, as she falls much, much harder.