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alstroemeria, also known as peruvian lily
a flower that symbolizes friendship, love, strength, and devotion. the color determines its exact meaning.
She's the personification of sunshine.
The golden-eyed girl hops along Mondstadt's bridge, singing a tune merrily. On her face, a smile so warm it rivals the sun. In her hand, a yellow flower he's unfamiliar with.
The girl seems unaware of that pair of teal eyes observing her, rapidly switching attention between the energetic girl and a sketchbook in his hand. Those teal eyes belong to a young boy that sits underneath a tree, sketching the scenery around him leisurely. When the golden-haired girl came into the picture, along with her laughter and happiness that rivaled the golden glow of sunset, his hands started to draw fervently.
He concentrates back on his sketch, using big strokes to capture the soft, flowy hair of the girl. Erasing a portion to capture the light in her eyes. Emphasizing the glow of her white dress with gentle strokes of his pen, shading softly. Smudging some edges to create a soft impression of her face.
Ah, it's a shame he can't draw the flower in detail.
"Hi, there! May I join you?"
The boy jolts in surprise, instinctively holding his sketchbook and pen tightly against his chest. "Uh, yes, of course."
"Thanks! Sorry if I surprised you." She sits beside him, a wide smile on her roundish face. "Can I draw with you? It looks fun!"
No, the word is on the tip of his tongue, but he holds back. He shouldn't scare anyone away with his possessiveness over his art.
"Um, or maybe, may I look at what you're drawing?"
Ah, she must've sensed his hesitation.
But does he want her to see that he's been drawing her ? His cheeks redden. Embarrassment is a foreign feeling that he doesn't welcome. He wants to hide his drawing, yet he also wants to see her reaction. What emotion will be displayed in her shimmering golden eyes? Would she be happy? Pleased? Or afraid? Angry that a stranger is drawing her?
His curiosity gets the best of him.
"Sure." He says meekly, handing her his sketchbook. The moment he lets go of his sketchbook, his fingers itch to take it back.
He already regrets it.
"Thanks!" The sunshine girl beams as she puts it on her lap gently, turning the cover slowly as if her soft gesture could break it. It amuses him amid his internal panic. What should I do if she hates it? Oh, this is a very bad idea, I shouldn't have given her —.
She gasps, her golden eyes widen in awe. And she turns at him, golden eyes fixated on his teal ones. "Is this me?" Her voice is barely above a whisper, fascination brimming within it.
Anxiety turns to pride. His curiosity has paid off.
He nods confidently. Hoping it masks the embarrassment and buzzing joy in his chest. "Yes, you looked so happy and… bright. It makes me want to draw you." His eyes flicker to the yellow flower she places on her lap. "And your flower."
As if that can hide his massive fascination with her.
"Oh, this?" She picks it up, twirling the slender deep green stalk between her forefinger and thumb. "This is a Peruvian lily! Mom said that it means happiness."
He stares at the flowers , as he realizes that the single stalk houses five pedicels of bright colored flowers. Each of them has six petals, all in that vibrant shade of yellow-orange, accentuated with stripes and dots of dark brown. It has the common shape of a lily but in a smaller size, yet he thinks this one is the prettiest.
"It's pretty," He comments, hesitantly caressing a petal with the pad of his forefinger. Soft.
"Yup! This is my favorite flower." The girl proceeds to gush excitedly about her flowers, basking in small nods and the occasional ooh from him. He keeps listening, and she keeps on talking until her eyes suddenly widen and she gasps.
"I forgot to introduce myself! My name's Lumine, Lumine Viator."
Lumine. The sunshine girl's name is Lumine. It reminds him of the word luminous , and it fits her personality too.
He takes her hand in his. Soft and warm, yet surprisingly firm. "I'm Albedo Kreideprinz."
"Are you from somewhere far away? Your name doesn't sound like Mondstadt people's names."
Albedo blinks, momentarily stunned by Lumine's comment. He never considers himself a foreigner, as he has been raised here as far as he can remember. "I don't know… maybe? I was raised here since I'm small, but maybe my parents were not from Mondstadt."
He adds her question to the pile of things he wants to ask his parent later.
"It's alright! I'm not from Mondstadt too!" She smiles wide, before resuming her story.
The young kids chat for a while — or rather, Lumine is doing all the talking, and Albedo becomes the attentive listener.
He is enraptured by her stories. The way she retells those folktales makes him feel as if he hasn't memorized them yet. Her lively hands wave and gesture around as she recalls that time she helped the sisters at church attending their gardens. The way she smiles and beams and squeals as she tells him of her favorite cat in the town.
Her laughter, oh, it becomes his favorite sound on such short notice. He doesn't know why or how, but every time she laughs, he'll also laugh.
He decided that her happiness is contagious.
They laugh and share their minds, unaware of the sky changing its color, and the sun dipping low, closer to the horizon. Albedo is the first to notice it and he knows they should head back.
He purses his lips. He doesn't want to stop Lumine's story of those strange sunsettia fruits. He wants to hear more, he can never get enough of her.
What he fails to notice, is that Lumine notices his unease.
She cuts her story short, and takes Albedo's hand, seemingly oblivious to the boy's surprised jolt.
"And lastly," Lumine takes her stalk of flowers and puts it on his palm. "This is for you."
Albedo stares at the flowers in his hand — and her hand on his.
"Isn't it yours?"
"It's alright, there's still a lot of these in the garden! You can keep this one. You want to draw this too, don't you?"
Golden eyes glowing under thick lashes, full of sincerity and warmth. And he nods.
"Thank you," he smiles.
"You're very welcome~" Lumine stands with a bounce. "I hope we'll meet again tomorrow!"
They bid their farewells as they walk back inside Mondstadt's protective walls, parting ways with a wave. When her shadow has disappeared behind a turn, Albedo observes the flowers in his hand, a smile on his lips.
A gold-ish flower from a golden-eyed girl. He likes the sound of it.
The sunshine girl has grown up to be a charming maiden. And with that charm, comes the flocking horde of all kinds of man. Only one had charmed her back, and of course, it has to be the wildest, worst guy she ever met. The "traveling merchant" from Snezhnaya.
And because of him, the sunshine girl weeps.
That Childe guy — why did he nickname himself that? — is so dead .
"I don't understand why he left me like that." Lumine cries, tears trailing down her cheeks, falling on her lap. Drenching a patch of her skirt.
"I can't believe he just, he just said that we're nothing, that I'm just a pawn , that he's just playing around." Her voice breaks at the end, and so does Albedo's heart.
Lumine wipes her tear-stricken face, sniffling loudly. "Am I — am I so ugly? Weird? Is it because I don't have many friends?"
Oh, dear, no . She's far from ugly, with eyes holding the softest ray of sunlight, rosy cheeks, and warm smiles. She's a unique person, with quirks and traits that are uniquely Lumine . She may not be the most sociable, yet she holds her friends dear, and she holds respect and —
— she's a charm of her own, the only Lumine in Teyvat.
He wants to say it all. Yet he can't find the courage. So, he just shakes his head, and replies softly, "No, no, it's not because of you. He's just… a fool." and a bastard , he adds in his mind.
Albedo dares not say it out loud, for he remembers how disappointed Lumine is when he swears.
"Ah, I'm too young and hopeless and weak, am I not?" She says calmly, much to his surprise. Her sniffles stop, and she wipes her remaining tears silently.
He disagrees with the "hopeless and weak" part, but, yes, she's a tad too young to accompany Childe in his "business" venture, should he asks her to do so ( like hell I'd let him take her , he thinks with a shudder).
She's at the tender age of 17 now, where her wits and skills start to shine brightly. And her childlike features have faded, revealing the graceful beauty of a young woman. No one can deny that she's sharp-witted, sociable, and easy on the eye. And he understands perfectly the charm she holds over men, and the danger that comes with it.
Albedo voices his opinion carefully, silently hoping she won't see this as nagging.
Surprisingly, the maiden agrees.
"Thank you for looking out for me… and I'm glad you see me that way." There's a hint of irony in her smile, a pensiveness in her golden eyes. "Thanks, Albedo. I'll remember it. Always."
Silence falls upon them for a moment, before Albedo starts telling her stories his master told him — of stars and the sky, the possible truth of Teyvat — and she listens. It feels good to have her full attention; golden eyes wide and attentive, the lovely maiden responding and commenting occasionally.
"Thank you. For always being here." Lumine smiles tenderly. "What can I do to repay your kindness?"
"Your companion is more than enough."
Lumine smiles tenderly, and his heart flutters. "Thank you, but I'll still give you something."
A protest arises in his throat, yet before he could say it, she stands and holds her hand out.
"Let's go back! I can already see Aether fussing over how worried he is."
Albedo takes her hand. He can’t help but notice how their hands fit together nicely, her smaller hand the perfect size to hold.
The two of them return to their neighborhood. She's correct, the older twin is tending to the garden in their yard.
"I'm back!"
Aether looks up, and Lumine gives him a heartfelt hug. Aether huffs, patting his sister's back softly before pulling away, staring intently at her face.
"Lumi! Please tell me where you'll go before running off like that again. I'm so worried."
She laughs sheepishly in reply. "Sorry, I was too distraught." She turns her glistening gold eyes to Albedo. "I'll see you tomorrow noon at our usual place! See ya!"
"I'll wait for you."
Lumine strikes a last smile at Albedo before disappearing into the house, the sturdy wooden door closing behind her.
But Aether stays outside.
And with that smile on his face, Albedo has a feeling about what he's going to say.
"You should take your chance, my friend. She's better off with you than any other guy here." Aether sends him a reassuring smile. "Especially that guy. Ugh, he's a real jerk. I'd like to kill him if only I won't be jailed for it."
Albedo casts his gaze down. "She doesn't like me the way I do."
"Have you asked?" The young alchemist shakes his head slowly. He hasn't. But he doesn't need any answer to see that she only sees him as a friend.
Aether sighs. A somber smile on his lips. "I suggest you try. The odds are in your favor. It'll be a shame to pass it up."
With a wave, he enters the house, closing the door softly behind him with a click. Leaving him alone to ponder about.
And the next day, below that tree outside the wall, she meets him again. Dressed in a white shirt and yellow skirt, she radiates happiness. Though he can see a tinge of bitterness in her eyes, there's no doubting her smile for him.
A smile so warm, unrivaled even by the bright, merry yellow petals of the Peruvian lily she gives him again.
"As always, thank you, Albedo," she says softly, smiling timidly, "for always bringing me up when I feel down. Being here even when I forgot."
Lumine embraces him, a soft hug that envelops him in warmth and timid affection. He loves it. He wants more. But he dares not ask.
"Please, don't mention it. After all, that's what friends are for, right?"
Hah, friends . Albedo smiles, albeit a tad bitter. Even though Lumine's literally in his arms right now, he can't help but pity himself. This comforting warmth and butterflies are temporary relief to his longing heart.
And today is a cloudy day again, literally and metaphorically speaking. Albedo stirs his pot lazily, watching bubbles form and pop out of existence, his mind somewhere far from the project in front of him, and the cause is none other than his sunshine. Or rather, the absence of her.
In their ten years of friendship, they’ve had their fair share of quarrels and petty fights. It’s usually over by a month or so. In the worst cases, he’d feel as if she’s drifting away to an unreachable plane of existence, only for her to suddenly plop back by his side. But not this time.
Lumine has been avoiding and being uncharacteristically quiet around him for more than a month. She's avoiding his eye contact, busying herself with more sword training, and rejecting all his invitations to hang out with a wistful smile and some excuses. It feels as if she is deliberately and permanently trying to leave him out of her life. Was it something he said? Did he make a mistake, or overlook important matters? It drives him crazy because he doesn't know, and she won't talk to him either.
And what pains him more, is that she seems to be growing fond of her senior, Kaeya Alberich.
Maybe it's because of Kaeya's impressive mastery of swordsmanship. Or his charming smile. Or the way he strings his words into sweet, suave yet not disconcerting compliments. The man has good looks and a good reputation, and he utilizes them efficiently.
Whichever it is, Albedo feels threatened, both as a friend and as a suitor. And it's troubling him.
He turns back to the boiling pot at hand and curses under his breath as he notices his pot is simmering ashen bubbles. Shouldn't think about them while distilling slimes, he thinks bitterly. He quickly turns down the flame to a small flicker.
"Ah, there you are!"
"Hello, Albedo."
Speak of the devil ( Lumine is an angel, though , he defends). Albedo's frown deepens momentarily. He holds back a tired sigh as the pair approach his alchemy stall.
"Hello, Lumine," he says softly with a smile, "Kaeya," he can't help the slightly irritated tone that seeps, "To what do I owe you your presence?"
The senior laughs, it's a pleasant and relaxing voice if only he wasn't holding Albedo's sunshine close, an arm draping over her shoulder. "Please, drop the courtesy. We're friends!" Albedo slightly raises his eyebrow at the remark. "Oh, but let's get down to business."
He nudges Lumine, and the girl flushes red. Why is that so? Albedo doesn't want to know if it further proves that she likes the senior beside her.
"Uh, I thought you'd leave me before I…?" Lumine stammers, tripping over her words.
Kaeya snickers, softly patting her head. "Alright, then. I’ll be at Sara’s if you need anything. See you later, then.”
Albedo watches him walk across the street toward Good Hunters. Good riddance, even though he’s still within his view range. That’s alright. Now, to the matter right in front of him…
"What is it that you need me for?" A precise question, to cut the heartbreak short.
"Um, it's," Lumine stammers again, her whole face flushing madly. She opens her mouth, only to close it in a tight-lipped smile. "I — never mind."
He raises an eyebrow at that.
"Uh, anyway, what do you think of my new hair?"
He knows a change of topic when he sees one, and he wants to question it, but —.
She turns around, and his words evaporate. Her long blonde hair is gone . It’s barely noticeable from the front. Her hair is cut short at the back, leaving only two long tresses of side bangs. The new hairstyle fits her image as a maiden knight, tender yet fierce. Beautiful yet practical.
He always loves watching her hair flow freely — a cascade of golden silk that accentuates her beauty. He never imagined her in a shorter hairstyle. But surprisingly, he thinks this short cut fits her more. He brings a hand up, softly touching a strand of her long fringe.
"You cut your hair?"
Lumine nods enthusiastically. "Yes! Do you like it?"
He wants to kiss the golden strands in his hand.
"Yeah, it suits you." He speaks truthfully, a smile on his face. "You look fresh."
"Thanks! It was Kaeya's idea." Oh? His smile falters for a millisecond before he fixes it back. "He got frustrated that I have to stop once in a while to fix my ponytail, or when my hair tie got snapped, so he suggested that I cut it short." she laughs, and he doesn't miss the slight blush adorning her cheeks.
He shuts his lips tight, trying to water out the resentment in his chest. Coughing up the budding jealousy, he agrees, "Yeah, of course, long hair is not the most practical in combat."
Her golden eyes gaze upon the crown of his head, "I kinda miss it, tho. Feels like a part of me is gone. Also, it feels like I’m the only one cutting my hair short when everyone's growing their hair out. Even yours is longer than mine, now." She says amusedly.
Albedo instinctively touched his overgrown hair. It reaches his shoulder now, the slightly wavy strands tickling his neck. "That reminds me. I should cut it soon."
"No!" He raises an eyebrow at her remark. Her eyes widen. "Uh, I mean, you look better with your long hair." She casts her gaze away, her face reddening with each mumbled syllable.
"Oh? What's that?" He smiles, pleased. He leans in closer. "Can you repeat it a bit louder, please?"
She opens her mouth, letting out a small squeak instead of coherent words. "I — ugh, you’re such a tease!"
He chuckles as she covers her face as if it would hide her embarrassment from him.
“Hm, but, anyway, do you mind if I braid your hair?”
And his chuckles halt. “Huh?”
This time, Lumine chuckles, her features softening to a heartfelt smile. “Can I braid your hair? Don’t worry, I won’t mess it up. I’ve been braiding Aether’s since we were kids.”
Did his ears deceive him? Or maybe his brain has failed in deciphering her words? Did she truly ask to braid his hair? Albedo blinks, quickly shaking himself out of the initial surprise. “Yeah, sure.”
“Alright!” She clasps her hands together. “Let’s get started. And, um, I think it’s better if you sit down. I’m not that tall,” She ends her sentence with a small laugh.
“Oh, right.” He drags a stool and sits on it, checking behind him to ensure enough space for her to stand in. “Like this?”
“Yup.”
Her footsteps are soft as she circles around him, standing behind him. Gentle hands parting the hair on his left into sections, the movement tender and careful. He sits as still as he can be while his heart is beating in the rhythm of fireworks.
Everything is so much brighter and vivid; golden specks of dust flying in the air, dancing to the calm wind.
“I hope I won’t mess this up,” She mutters, her fingers nimbly weaving sections of his hair. Some strands still escape the braid.
“You’ll do good,” He assures her.
The tug and pull of her hands are constant against his scalp, so comforting that he has to resist the temptation to lean back. Her fingers brush a strand of hair up, brushing against his neck. He shivers. She murmurs an apology. He tells her not to be sorry.
She continues to braid his hair, occasionally leaning back to assess her work, slowly progressing toward the middle, and then he feels her stop.
“Left part done,” She announces as she ties the end. “Onto the right part.”
Once more he feels her hands on his hair, once more his heart jumps. It takes a lot to concentrate on something else and not hyperfocus on her every touch. It takes a lot more to stop shivers down his spine when he can feel her presence so close to him. Her occasional shuffling behind him.
She’s all around him in all sense that matters to him; he can’t escape her and he’s okay with it.
“Are you doing another new experiment?”
He eyes the pot. The mixture has cooled down. “Yes, I am. But it seems that I have to revise the formula as the result is not what I expected.”
Lumine hums, taking another section of his hair. “What’s your expected result?”
“I tried to make a more robust concoction of crystalfly extract by diluting it in desaturated slime condensation. But the crystalfly gets dissolved completely, leaving only the slimes, thus rendering the mixture unfit for the actual project.”
Her hands pause their movement. “So… the experiment went wrong?”
“In a way, yes, but no. It behaves as it usually will, I am the one who forgot to take that into consideration.”
“Are you disappointed?” Lumine continues braiding his hair, placing a section above another. Pale blonde against her warm skin. “Uh, mad, maybe? Or frustrated?”
Disappointed? Mad? Frustrated? Albedo ponders on each word carefully, as he rarely feels such strong emotions. Exactly why he’s intoxicated with her; as she’s the only one who can make him feel everything as vivid as ripe valberries.
“Mostly it’s indifference. Every failure is to be expected. I’ll assess the whole process, revise my formula, and try again.” He explains.
She hums, her fingers lingering on his hair. “Do you stand by that attitude in other matters too?” She combs his hair with her fingers, untangling wild strands and slipping it behind the braid. She tucks the braid behind his ears, brushing against the shell of them. He holds back a shiver.
“As far as I’m aware, yes. Though the rate at which I progress — assessing and revising whatever needs to be revised — varies.”
Her hands rest against the crown of his head, her sigh fleeting above his hair. He etches the sensation in his memory.
“It’s done! I’ll get you a mirror.” She announces, and he already misses the weight of her hand.
There’s some shuffling behind him before she comes into his view with a hand mirror. Surprised teal eyes stare back at him — the messy pale hair that framed his face is brushed back, held in place by two braids. Some strands are rebelling out of it; falling across his forehead, by his ears.
She chews on the inside of her cheeks, subtly hiding it under a smile. “Do you like it?”
He tilts his head side to side, trying to see more of her work, softly touching it with his hand. It’s as tidy as it can be; his haircut is already a mess, to begin with. He traces the braids, fingertips running along it until it ends in the middle, connected by a thin hair tie.
He turns toward her, meeting her wide golden eyes with a smile. “It’s lovely. Thank you, Lumine.”
A bright smile blossoms on her lips; the sun to his cloudy soul.
Mondstadt is already sleeping when he finishes his experiment. The day feels shorter than usual, maybe because he spent most of his time replaying and cherishing that less-than-an-hour moment with her. He walks back to his headquarter, long shadows accompanying his every step. Memories of her enveloping him in a fuzzy feeling.
He’s about to unlock his door when he notices a white envelope tucked under his doormat. He looks around, wondering if the sender is still around, but the hall is empty and quiet.
Taking the envelope in one hand, he unlocks his door and closes it behind him. On it is a simple address; for Albedo . He freezes when he notices that the sentence is written in familiar, long handwriting. The signature ornamental feather under it. He hurries inside to his working desk.
Albedo fumbles a letter opener out of his drawer and breaks the wax seal as carefully as he can. Pulls the content of the envelope with trembling hands.
In the envelope are a yellowing page of thick paper, a letter, and a bookmark. On the thick paper is a poorly drawn portrait of two stickmen — one has short, yellow hair, and the other has long hair. He flips the bookmark, and on it is a pattern made from pressed flowers; green leaves and petals of white and pink adorning the length of the bookmark, forming a simple wreath. The shape of the petals looks familiar, though he can’t call the name of the flower immediately.
Lastly, he turns his attention to the letter. The handwriting is neat and long, the paper smooth — save from the creases made by his fingers.
Dear Albedo,
Inside I included a drawing I made when we were still young kids. After we met, I was so fascinated by your arts and I wanted to create one myself, but this is as far as I could get. I’m not patient enough and my hands just won’t cooperate with me, but I still kept this one. A lovely memento of my childhood, one that has you in it.
Dread chills down his spine as he read it. The possibility of her trying to sever all ties from him — this letter as one last parting message — is minuscule, but it’s there. And he’s scared. He shakes his head. He shouldn’t draw any conclusions yet, the letter is far from over.
There’s a bookmark too, one that I made not long ago. I’m planning on making tons of these and selling them through Marjorie’s shop, but the drying process took so long and I’m still experimenting with patterns and different flowers. Smaller ones are excellent for this, but I want to make bookmarks from bigger flowers. This one is from Peruvian lilies. I hope you like it.
I’m sorry I can’t talk with you directly about this. I’ve been at a ‘war’ with myself for weeks. A part of me insisted that I must tell you about this, but I’m scared. Being honest with you about this will risk our years of wholesome friendships and our future relationship. I don’t want to lose you; to lose us.
Neither do I, his heart whispers.
Here goes nothing.
He can see her taking a huge sigh as she writes this. He reads it with bated breath.
It’s been a while since I realize my vision of an ideal future always involves you somewhere in it. I can’t see a life I want to live without you. And somewhere along that line, I want more. Perhaps more than I could ask, more than you could give. So, this is not me asking something from you. This is me, giving what I can give to you, even though it’s through inks on paper.
I’m giving you my heart, my trust, my devotion. To reject, accept, or reciprocate it; I leave the final decision to you.
This sounds so stupid now that I’ve written this.
There’s a blot of ink and scratched words following that sentence.
Okay, I won’t erase it. I can’t write something less cringe than that, haha.
Albedo puts the letter down. There are some lines left that he’ll read later when he’s calmed down, when his whole being doesn’t feel cloud-soft. His soul buzzes with renewed energy, newfound bravery lit by hers. He should commend her for confessing when he’s too much of a coward to do so.
His eyes flit back to the bookmark, once again admiring the quality of the preserved flowers on it.
Oh, the flowers.
Rising from his chair, he heads right to a bookshelf by his desk. He sifted through his book collections, eyes scanning for that one flower almanac. His fingertips land upon a thick spine with tiny flowers engraved on it — that’s the one. He picks it up; layers of dust crumbling under his fingertips. Flipping through the pages, his eyes are scanning the pages for one name. Alstroemeria, widely known as Peruvian lily. He feels like he knows what it means, but he doesn’t want to disappoint himself in the end. He fears that hope has distorted his memory.
Alstroemeria — Alstroemeria pelegrina
Also known as Peruvian lily. A flower that symbolizes friendship, love, strength, and devotion. The color determines its exact meaning.
Yellow: energy, happiness, optimism, and joy.
White: a symbol of pure friendship and love between two people.
Pink: romance, love, and gentle feelings.