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“it was a bit of a tradition in their household to not buy normal candles. instead, they would buy the kind of candles that looked like the number itself.
that was because kaeya always told albedo to save the candles for later whenever his birthday rolled around.
he gave the reason on his 24th birthday, joking that, ‘he could use the exact same candles on his 42nd birthday and nothing would even change.”
klee had laughed raucously at that, and he remembered that he couldn’t help but crack a smile at the joke. jean and lisa snickered at it too.
he always thought of the future, of what would happen every year going forward, right up until they died in each other’s arms at some incomprehensible age.
each year passing was almost trivial in comparison to that anticipated future.
if only—
these thoughts were strange to be having at this time. in fact, he didn't even remember why he was sitting on the floor, holding kaeya so close to him.
his body was colder than the ice he wielded.
that’s right— it was his birthday today!
“ah! sorry kaeya, i almost forgot the most important part!”
for some reason, there was a clawing panic in his gut that was slowly being replaced by something else. as he frantically searched for the candles he meticulously saved, it only grew.
he finally found the bag of candles lying senselessly in a drawer, and ran back to kaeya with it.
he hefted him up into the chair on the other side of the table, grunting slightly with the effort. kaeya must've fallen fast asleep. or he was at least pretending to because he ignored him for so long.
that was alright. he’d just go along with it and sing happy birthday to him anyways.
“it really was a shame that klee couldn’t be here today, but that can’t be helped.”
on the table was a simple cake, covered carefully in chocolate frosting only barely darker than kaeya’s skin.
(was it just him, or was there a tinge of gray to his face? he does hope he is alright.)
he carefully put the numbered candles on the cake, spelling out the age of his beloved.
he chuckled.
“you and your candles…”
he lighted the candles, and watched kaeya’s eyes, half-lidded as he stared dead into the cake. he was strange like that, pretending to sleep even though his eyes were slightly open.
he sighed at his boyfriend’s childishness, then started singing in somewhat of a low whisper.
“happy birthday to you…
happy birthday to you…
happy birthday dear kaeya…
happy birthday to you!”
he smiled lovingly at the darker skinned man, and waited for him to blow out the candles and make a wish.
a minute passed, and he watched as a drop of wax fell onto the cake. surely kaeya was awake by now?
“blow out your candles, kaeya, we really don’t have all day,” he teased, but he still didn’t move an inch.
he had been quite stiff for a while, actually.
“mr. cavalry captain, that’s enough out of you,” he implored a little more frustratedly, trying to let him know that the joke was over.
as a last resort, he nudged his shoulder with his hand across the table, intended to rouse from his sleep.
but kaeya slid out of the chair with a solid thud onto the floor instead.
“kaeya! are you alright?! did you just pass out? i’ll call for barbara right—“
he stopped abruptly. because, as he said that, his gaze had wandered over to the chair that kaeya was sitting in.
blood smeared the front of it.
his eyes widened in shock.
he slowly looked back at kaeya in horror to see a gaping wound adorn his torso, dried blood all around his body.
his face was the picture perfect ideal of peaceful sleep, until you noticed the grimace of his lips and the scrunch around his eyes.
and the dried blood around his lips.
“kaeya?
KAEYA?
K A E Y A ? !”
bile bubbled up from his throat, and the panic turned to pure anguish. he felt around with his index and middle finger for a pulse in his throat, looking for a rise in kaeya’s chest.
nothing.
a hot tear streamed down his face. then another. his gasps came out erratic and short.
and then, for the first time in his life, albedo wailed desperately as he clung to kaeya.
deep down, he had known all along.
kaeya had never even made it to 25...”
…Xingqiu finished typing with a satisfying clack of the new typewriter he obtained from Fontaine. Ripping the paper out, he neatly stacked it together with the rest and let out a gratified sigh. The Feiyun Commerce Guild’s young master had been working on the ending to this new book for hours, his lavish room now littered with the remnants of past conclusions.
He adored this new machine: it provided convenience in many different ways, and it ensured that none of his written prose would be… misread by the translators. This would surely be a hit with the masses this time, right? he pondered. With a frown, he decided to check.
“Yun, love, can you come over here and take a look at this?”
“Hm?” The boy with azure hair paused in his consumption of his flavorless popsicle, turning around to look at Xingqiu. He had been quietly practicing exorcism techniques in the corner of the room for some time (archons know why, what with his physique and aura). He had only looked up to check up on the writer, making sure he had drank water and what not.
Chongyun’s face remained stalwart and calm, though a slight, nonplussed raise of his eyebrow indicated otherwise.
“I’m sure I’m nowhere near the best suited to be editing your–”
“Oh hush, Yun, just come over here and read it. You can complain all you want after you tell me what you think. ” Xingqiu interrupted with an exasperated huff. Chongyun’s shoulders slumped slightly in surrender.
“And don’t lie to me this time! You know you can’t lie if your life depended on it,” he reminded the other. The exorcist picked up the pile of papers with a scrutinizing eye, putting the other gloved hand on his chin in thoughtful silence. At some point, it dropped down to grasp his boyfriend's shoulder as he read, as if he needed all the moral support he could get at that point.
The audacity… , Xingqiu thought in petulance, examining the microexpressions of his partner’s face.
One detailed read later, Chongyun placed the beta version of the novel down, then pulled up a chair and faintly sat down at Xingqiu’s massive writing desk. There was a bout of silence, broken only by the minute, owlish blinks from the exorcist, the warning signs of a full-blown blush beginning to tingle on the pale shells of his ears.
“It certainly is well-written… though,” Chongyun picked up a handful of papers situated somewhere in the middle of the plot, the blush beginning to creep onto his cheeks, “I have one question about this part.”
Xingqiu motioned for the other to give him the papers he was holding, to which he silently nodded. A similar shade of red flushed up his neck as he skimmed through the… spicy scene. He had forgotten to take this part out before he handed it over to his beta reader.
Chongyun cleared his throat, a fist poised towards his chest as if he was about to choke at any given minute.
“Qiu, why exactly did you put so much detail into his p–”
The acclaimed novelist wildly put one hand over Chongyun’s mouth, muffling the rest of his question as the chagrined blush finally enveloped both of their faces.
“That’s not important! Don’t look at me like that! It wasn’t… no, nevermind, just– tell me what you think about the rest!” he sputtered, his voice reaching octaves he never thought possible.
The cat-eyed boy coughed a little bit as Xingqiu returned his hand to his lap, both looking away from each other sheepishly. Chongyun grabbed his popsicle and almost returned to the fetal position as he ate it, clearly needing to regain his composure.
After a little bit, the exorcist shook off imaginary dust and sat up, making direct contact with Xingqiu’s aureate eyes (as the straightforward boy usually did).
“For the most part, it seems well-paced enough, and I enjoyed the banter and characterization you gave to them… and I'm assuming the lack of capitalization is a stylistic choice. But if you ask me, I think the denial that the main character goes through near the end is a little rushed. It’s kind of… forced? Maybe if it was drawn out a little more, with some more suspense, or if you like, wrote him in a haze of some sort– urgh, I don’t know, writing isn’t my strong suit for a good reason.”
“No, that’s actually pretty solid advice. I think a good revision is in order… I don’t really know why I expected my 32nd draft to be my final. Yun,” Xingqiu giggled, “you look like you have another question.”
Chongyun indeed wore a flummoxed expression on his face.
“Um, yeah, about that. Qiu, why did you write about Mr. Albedo and Sir Kaeya? Last time I checked, Sir Kaeya wasn’t…?”
“Oh! Yeah. I just thought their relationship seemed really well-suited for some heart-wrenching angst. I mean, did you see these two when they were pining for each other a few mon–”
“No, no,” the budding exorcist waved his hands in placation, “that’s not what I meant. I mean, wouldn’t it be weird to publish a story that’s not real… about two real people?”
Xingqiu thought about it for a moment, his eyes widening in realization at the implications.
“...archons, Yun, I’m so glad you told me that. Imagine if I sent that to the publisher…”
“Forget that, imagine what Sir Kaeya and Mr. Albedo would think…”
(Somewhere in Mondstadt, an ashy-haired alchemist and a blue-haired knight with an eyepatch sneezed in sync, looking at each other in bewilderment afterwards.)