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Kaeya hadn’t been expecting any visitors today.
Part of him wants to stay curled up on the sofa, ignore the knocking and pretend he isn’t home – to let whoever’s attempting to interfere with his perfectly peaceful Saturday afternoon walk away disappointed.
That is, until he hears a very familiar voice calling softly through the door – muffled, but just loud enough to be heard from the living room.
“Master Kaeya? Are you home?”
What on earth is Adelinde doing here?
He’s on his feet before he realises it. August, who had been stretched out on the coffee table next to him, jumps up with an irritated yelp that he pays no mind to.
His fingers fumble in his haste to unlock the door. She’s the last person he wants to keep waiting. Even though she’s full of such endless patience that she would never complain.
“Adelinde,” he says breathlessly once the door is open. “I– what brings you here?”
“Master Kaeya,” she says with a small nod. “It is good to see you.”
“Good to see you too, but– is everything alright?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
She’s standing perfectly still, perfectly composed as always – for once she’s not wearing the maid uniform, instead dressed in a simple white blouse and a long navy skirt, and wearing that lovely necklace that brings out the green in her eyes splendidly.
She almost looks relaxed. Not that she ever looks tense, she’s unnervingly good at hiding things like that – but she seems a little less strict when she’s dressed like this.
Kaeya still has no idea why she’s here. But he’s been staring at her in the doorway for too long. He should do something about that.
“Do you want to come inside?”
“If you don’t mind.”
“Of course I don’t mind. Why on earth would I? You’re always welcome, Addie,” he says, stepping aside to usher her in.
As soon as she steps in and he closes the door behind her, he realises why on earth he might mind.
The place is a mess. Even by his standards. Which means it might as well be a steaming pile of manure in Adelinde’s eyes.
The last thing he wants is to disappoint her, but it’s too late for that now, isn’t it?
He laughs nervously as Adelinde takes a few more careful steps into the house. “Sorry about the mess, it’s just– I usually clean on Sundays, you know, and it’s Saturday, so I haven’t really– if I’d known you were coming I would’ve–”
Adelinde lets out a short hum as her scrutinising eyes wander over each inch of the dusty floors that he hasn’t bothered to sweep in an embarrassingly long time. Not since Diluc was last here, at least. And they’re only in the hallway. Fuck.
She doesn’t say anything.
This would be so much easier if she did say something, but of course she doesn’t. She’s too kind for that.
He opens his mouth to run through a list of useless excuses, when he notices August darting back and forth behind Adelinde, trying and failing to sink her tiny but no less vicious claws into the hem of that long skirt.
“August, no,” he says, bending down to pick her up before she can do any damage. “At least be polite around Adelinde, won’t you? I know you don’t care what I think, but Diluc certainly won’t appreciate it if you cause her any trouble.”
Adelinde turns around and lets out a soft gasp when her eyes land on August in his arms. She moves back towards him, leaning in to look at her more closely, a warm smile blooming across her face as she does.
“So this is the cat I’ve heard so much about,” she says, the corners of her eyes creasing fondly. “It is lovely to finally meet you, August.”
August meows loudly in response, and then purrs even louder when Adelinde’s hand comes up to scratch her gently behind the ears.
“Oh, she really is quite adorable,” Adelinde says, laughing softly as August twists in his arms to give her better access to the place she wants scratched and purrs yet louder still. “I can see why the two of you are so enamoured with her.”
“It’s only Diluc that’s enamoured. I see her for the little devil she is. You mustn’t let your guard down for even a second, Addie, that’s how she gets you.” August proves him right by digging her claws lightly into his arm. “See? Little devil. She’s an absolute menace, I tell you. Those innocent eyes are nothing but a trap.”
“Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that you keep referring to her as a little devil,” Adelinde says, glancing up at him with a teasing smile before looking back down at August. “She’s certainly a very friendly cat, isn’t she?”
“Too friendly. She hardly ever leaves our sides for even a second when we’re around, unless there’s food to be eaten in another room.” He shifts to readjust August in his arms before she can fall out of them, then holds her out to Adelinde. “Would you like to hold her?”
Adelinde looks hesitant for a moment, but she takes the cat into her arms anyway, cradling her with all the gentleness and grace in the world. August seems incredibly pleased by the change, nuzzling against Adelinde eagerly, purring with no restraint as Adelinde scratches under her chin and squeezes a little bit tighter, holding her securely against her chest.
Kaeya steps back, and an abrupt rush of warmth washes over him as he watches them.
The way Adelinde smiles down at August, holds her like she’s the entire world – the way August is nestled safely in her arms, purring contentedly, eyes shut as she basks in the new warmth–
His heart might just burst from how tender all of this is.
“Can I take a picture of you?” he asks in an awed whisper, afraid to interrupt this perfect moment but desperate to capture it and preserve it forever.
At this rate there’s going to be a whole album of nothing but August being held by every person he cares for. He likes the sound of that.
Adelinde looks up, her eyes widening. “I’m hardly dressed for a photograph–”
“Oh please. You look just fine, you always do. I’m taking a picture,” he announces, and runs off to fetch the Kamera from his room before the moment can fade completely.
He returns soon enough, Kamera in hand, and Adelinde sighs silently as he fusses with it and positions himself to get the perfect shot of this perfect moment. It’s not his fault. This will be too important a picture to dedicate any less than his full effort to.
August doesn’t jump at the sound of the shutter clicking anymore. Perhaps she’s gotten used to it from being around him too long.
“There,” he says, presenting the freshly printed photo to Adelinde with a proud, slightly smug smile. “My favourite woman and my least favourite cat in one picture. Another one for the album.”
Adelinde makes a face that looks like she’s rolling her eyes without actually rolling them. “And how many women do you say that to, Master Kaeya?”
“I only ever mean it with you, Addie,” he says, grinning as she gives him a reproving look that’s still hopelessly fond.
Her eyes wander back to the cat sitting snugly in her arms. “A little bundle of mischief with a devilishly cute face,” she muses, looking between him and August. “Now who does that remind me of, hm?”
“Surely she’s not as cute as me,” he says, with a mock scandalised gasp. “And I’m certainly less troublesome than she is.”
“Is that what you think?” she says, chuckling softly as she lifts August just enough to press her lips against the top of her fluffy little head. He didn’t think August’s purring could get any louder, but it does, somehow. Absolutely shameless.
“Great, now both you and Diluc have fallen for her charms. No one in this family loves me anymore.”
Adelinde smiles at him with a small shake of her head and lets August go, delicately placing her on the floor. August doesn’t run off and chooses to instead walk in circles around them, winding herself between his legs as he goes to put down the Kamera on the living room table – but she quickly finds herself much more interested in playing with the hem of Adelinde’s skirt.
He gives up on stopping her. Clearly Adelinde doesn’t mind.
She and Diluc are the same, then – willing to let the little devil get away with whatever she pleases. That makes Kaeya the only one thinking clearly in this family.
Or maybe not – he’s so distracted that he didn’t notice Adelinde stepping into the living room just a few moments after him.
She’s about to say something when he pushes her out as gently as possible and steers her towards the kitchen instead. They can go in the living room after he’s had a few minutes to make it somewhat presentable, if they must go in at all.
“How about we have some tea while you’re here?” he says quickly, hoping that the cheer he injects into his voice will be enough to distract her.
“Of course,” she says without a moment’s hesitation. “That sounds like a lovely idea. I’ll start on it right away–”
“What– Addie, no. You’re my guest today. I couldn’t possibly let you do any work while you’re in my house.” He guides her to sit at the kitchen table before she can somehow find some menial task to busy herself with. “Allow me.”
“It’s quite alright–”
“You just sit here and relax while I brew us some tea,” he says, patting her shoulders lightly, “and then you can tell me all about how much you’re enjoying this week of respite from my dear brother. No need to hold back. I promise I won’t tell him anything. Your secrets are safe with me.”
“Master Kaeya, I–”
“And there’s another thing. No titles while you’re here. My house, my rules. We’re just Kaeya and Adelinde now.” He plants his hands on his hips in a show of authority, but he falters upon catching sight of the conflicted furrow of her brow. “Please?”
She opens her mouth before closing it almost instantly, her face pinching into a frown. “I couldn’t possibly…”
He sighs. Adelinde is stubborn at the best of times. He should’ve known better than to hope that would work.
“You know neither Diluc nor I care about titles, Addie. It’s just a needless formality at this point.” He sighs again. “But fine, I’ll drop it. Use whatever you’re comfortable with.”
Adelinde’s frown gives way to a small smile. That’ll have to be enough for now.
He moves towards the cupboards and begins to search for the tin of tea he hopefully still has lying around and a pair of clean mugs for them to drink out of, when Adelinde speaks up again.
“That’s one of your father’s paintings, isn’t it?”
He doesn’t need to turn around to know she’s looking at the little canvas hanging up next to the bulletin board on the far wall of the kitchen. “Yeah. It’s one of the ones Diluc gave to me on my birthday.”
He doesn’t need to turn around to hear the smile in her voice either when she speaks again. “It looks very nice. Master Crepus would be pleased to see it here.”
And how pleased would he be to see me living here in the first place, instead of the family home?
“Diluc said something similar.” He pulls a tin of tea from a cupboard and gives it a delicate shake to confirm that it does, in fact, still contain enough leaves for two cups of tea. “Is green tea alright with you, Addie?”
“Of course. Any tea is fine. Please don’t trouble yourself too much on my account.”
There isn’t any point in telling her that nothing is too much trouble if it’s for her sake, is there?
He opens another cupboard to find some mugs–
Oops. Wrong cupboard.
Adelinde’s not here to drink with him, now is she?
He shuts it as quickly as possible – but not quickly enough. There was a too-long moment of hesitation there and now her gaze is on his back, heavy with concern and pinning him in place under the weight of it.
“Cooking wine,” he says hastily, clearing his throat with a light cough. “I don’t drink it. It’s the cheap stuff, it wouldn’t taste good anyway.”
She doesn’t say anything.
“Don’t– please don’t tell Diluc. You know it only takes the smallest thing to make him start worrying–”
“Master Kaeya,” she says slowly, “I am not here to spy on you on your brother’s behalf. And there is nothing to say. I trust you.”
A terrible choice on your part.
But a convenient one for him.
Her words hang solemnly in the air over them as he opens the next cupboard without looking back at her. And just his luck – there’s a teapot inside, but only one mug.
His gaze darts towards the sink.
Hm.
Before he can go to wash one of the mugs he’d left lying around in there, Adelinde gets up from her chair and beats him to it, swift as lightning. He can’t even squeeze a word in before she’s rolling up her sleeves and picking up a sponge.
“Wait– Addie, you don’t have to– I can–”
Adelinde shakes her head. “Nonsense, Master Kaeya. I’m happy to help.”
You shouldn’t need to help. “Addie, it’s really–”
She presses a dish towel into his hands, silently but firmly cutting off any further protests.
Maybe bringing her to the kitchen was a mistake. He hadn’t realised how much of a mess this place was, either.
She passes him a dripping wet plate. He blinks.
She works frighteningly fast. Fast enough that he doesn’t have time to think or put together any arguments against whatever she’s doing, and all he can do is let his shoulders sag in defeat and dry the dishes as he’s been wordlessly asked to.
August hops up onto the counter and sits next to the sink. Droplets of water cling to her fur, but she doesn’t seem at all bothered by it, her tail swishing back and forth without a care in the world.
They continue at a steady pace for a while, a rhythm that’s all too easy to slip into when Adelinde’s pushing them along like this. But it goes on for too long.
Perhaps putting off the simple task of dishwashing for almost a week was a poor idea in hindsight. He really had been meaning to get round to it eventually – things just got in the way this week. Things that may or may not include his own sheer laziness.
He feels so small next to her, despite being so much taller than her these days. She’s not looking at him, not fixing him with the hard, judgemental gaze he knows damn well she’s capable of, and yet he can’t help but feel thoroughly chastised each time she passes him another piece of cutlery without saying a word.
They’re a little over halfway through the stack of dirty dishes when he finally finds the motivation to speak again. “Adelinde, I–”
“Have you been feeling well lately, Master Kaeya?”
He almost drops the plate he’s holding. “I– of course I have.” He glances at her for just a second before tightening his grip on the plate and rubbing at it perhaps a little too roughly with the towel. “I don’t seem unwell, do I–”
“This all seems rather unlike you,” she says quietly, working away at a particularly stubborn spot on the side of the bowl in her hands. “I know you know better than to let your dishes pile up for this long.” She turns to look at him at last, her eyes soft yet overwhelmingly stern. “I don’t believe it’s how you normally do things. It’s certainly not how you’ve been raised.”
There are a lot of things I haven’t been raised to do, but that doesn’t stop me from doing them anyway.
“I’ve– it’s just been a busy week, that’s all,” he says lamely, even though there’s no way she would ever accept something so flimsy as an excuse.
He doesn’t dare look back at her. Whether her expression is disappointed or pitying or both, he knows he won’t be able to handle it.
She sighs quietly. “Perhaps if you dealt with the dishes immediately, it would be a less daunting task than dealing with a large pile like this. Washing a plate or two at the end of each meal is easier than trying to tackle all of them at the end of the week, no?”
“Yes. Of course. You’re absolutely right.”
She sighs again. “At least you’re eating.” She smiles faintly. “And cooking for yourself, too. Master Diluc sounded concerned by your eating habits, the last time he spoke about it. I’m glad you seem to be improving in that regard.”
Why is Diluc, of all people, giving her extra reasons to worry about Kaeya when he doesn’t have to? When she worries enough already, without even knowing any of the details?
Idiot.
“Are you hungry?” he asks. “I could make something–”
“Not at all. Tea will be more than enough. I can’t stay for too long, I’m afraid,” she says, her smile diminishing.
“The guest room’s free, if you need it–”
“Master Diluc will be coming home tomorrow. I have to be back before he arrives. It wouldn’t do for him to return to an empty house.”
Oh. Right. Diluc’s coming home. Finally.
The week passed quicker than he thought it would. And yet he’s more impatient than ever now, knowing Diluc’s return is just around the corner.
It was only a week of separation. It shouldn’t affect him this much.
“How unfortunate,” he says breezily. “It was so peaceful without him too. I don’t suppose you could sneakily write another business trip into his schedule, could you?”
“I’m sure he’ll be just as glad to see you too,” she says, in that all-knowing, heart-wrenchingly soft tone of hers.
“Me? Glad? Hardly. As soon as he comes back, August here will be out of control. I bet she won’t stop meowing for a whole week. And he’s only going to encourage it while they both make me suffer.”
August seems to recognise her own name and stands up again to headbutt Adelinde’s arm, which makes her chuckle softly as she puts down the sponge and dries her hands, having finished washing all the dishes. He watches her pet August’s fur with a subdued smile on her face as he puts the last plate away.
“Actually, speaking of trips,” he says, filling the kettle and putting it on the stove at long last, “Diluc and I were thinking of going to Fontaine. Or somewhere outside Mondstadt, at least, and Fontaine sounds like as good a place as any. He needs a break, don’t you agree?”
“Fontaine?” she murmurs, watching August with an unreadable expression as she scratches behind the cat’s ears, before looking up at him with the same subdued smile. “Yes, you’re right. It’ll be good for you two to get out of the city for a while–”
“Not just us. You as well. We want you to come along with us.”
Adelinde stills, her hand slowly dropping away from August.
“You deserve a break at least as much as we do,” he says. “A proper one, I mean, not one of those days where you technically have it off but you go and do something productive anyway instead of resting–”
“Master Kaeya, I couldn’t,” she says with a quick shake of her head. “Someone has to look after the winery.”
“The rest of the staff are perfectly capable of handling things in your absence for a while, you know that. You run a tight ship, they’ll manage a few days without you at the helm.”
She purses her lips before letting out an imperceptible exhale and looking away, her shoulders stiff and ever-so-slightly hunched.
“Will you think about it, at least? We’d both be a lot happier with you there,” he says, placing a light hand on her shoulder. “We haven’t had a family trip in a long time, and it won’t be one without you, Addie. Diluc said so himself.”
Her eyes are clouded with uncharacteristic doubt when she looks back at him. “I will… consider it, then, if that is truly what the two of you wish.”
“Of course it is.”
Steam is pouring out of the kettle, but it’s only just started whistling when Adelinde takes it off the stove.
“Wait– it’s not fully boiled yet–”
“You don’t use fully boiled water for green tea,” she says as she opens the kettle, letting more steam waft out. After a few moments, she pours it into the empty teapot, then adds a couple of spoonfuls of the tea leaves on top before closing the pot again. “It burns the leaves and you end up with a very bitter tea instead. Don’t let it steep for too long either – these leaves are smaller and they’ll infuse faster, so it should only take a minute or two before it’s ready.”
…Maybe that’s why he’s never really enjoyed green tea. Because he never knew how to make it properly.
He watches silently as Adelinde pours the tea out into the mugs a minute or two later, just as she said, and passes one of them to him, smiling.
“I suppose it’s obvious that I don’t drink tea very often, isn’t it?” he says with a hesitant laugh. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you do all the work–”
“No one knows these things before someone shows them first,” she says, turning to sit at the kitchen table once more. “Now you do. And you can make it for me yourself, next time I’m here.”
Next time, huh?
He puts his mug down and crouches to open another cupboard. “Do you want biscuits with that? I think I have some left over from the last time Klee was here.”
“Wouldn’t you rather save them for the next time she visits?”
“It’s fine, I’ll probably end up buying something new for her anyway. She gets obsessed with a different dessert every other week.” Her brother is certainly no help in that regard. If it weren’t for Kaeya, those two would probably eat nothing but sweets until they crashed.
The jar he’s picked up still has a decent number of biscuits in it. He sets it down on the table along with his mug as he joins Adelinde, and she takes a long, slow sip of her tea before reaching into the jar.
“Are they all like this?” she asks, smiling at the rabbit-shaped biscuit between her fingers, its long floppy ears dipped in icing.
“Klee likes sweets even more when they come with cute designs,” he says, reaching for a biscuit of his own. His fingers find a cat-shaped one, and he bites off one of its icing-covered ears before taking a quick sip of his tea. He’s not usually one for sweet things, but it’s not as overwhelmingly sugary when combined with the tea.
August clearly does not approve of his actions, however. She bats at his face with a tiny, hopelessly soft paw – her claws are retracted, but the intent is clear. He bites off the other ear anyway and smirks at her.
“We both know you wouldn’t hesitate to bite the head off of a Kaeya-shaped biscuit if you could, seeing as that’s what you do in real life anyway,” he says, laughing villainously when August nibbles at one of his fingers, sinking her teeth in just enough to make her vexation known.
“Must you aggravate your cat as well?” Adelinde says, in a tone far too fond to be taken as admonishment.
“Maybe if the cat stopped aggravating me– ow– how rude. You won’t even behave in front of such an important guest? Who raised you?”
The little devil sticks her nose up in the air and trots across the table to Adelinde, who doesn’t hesitate to bring her hand up and give August’s head a loving pat.
“So now you’re both betraying me, huh? Alright, I see how it is. You’ll come running back to me once you see how scary Adelinde can really get,” he says, even though August is much more interested in the attention of her new favourite human than his empty threats.
“I don’t believe I’m scary,” Adelinde says, stroking August lightly under her chin.
“That’s the scariest part. You don’t even have to try. It’s just how you are.”
He’s pretty sure Adelinde actually rolls her eyes at that, but the moment passes so quickly that he can’t tell whether it was just his wishful thinking or not.
A comfortable lull descends upon them, filled with nothing but the quiet clinking of mugs, the soft crunch of biscuits, and the purrs of one cat making the entire table vibrate.
When was the last time he saw Adelinde actually drink tea herself instead of just making it for someone else? When was the last time he saw her relax at all?
Hopefully it won’t be too long before he gets to see this again. Hopefully on that trip to Fontaine – which they will convince her to go on, somehow, whatever it takes – hopefully then, she’ll be able to relax properly, when she’s far, far away from any work or responsibilities.
Although… she doesn’t seem quite relaxed enough for his liking yet. She’s gripping her mug a touch too tightly, staring down into the tea with furrowed eyebrows and a nearly undetectable frown.
“Adelinde?” He pushes his mug aside and leans forward, letting his arms rest on the table. “Is there something you want to talk about?”
She doesn’t look up at him, but reaches across the table to place a hand over his own.
“I’m very sorry for not visiting earlier, Master Kaeya.”
He tilts his head to the side, confused. “The weekend’s only just started, how much earlier could you really have–”
“Not this week.” She presses down more firmly on his hand, and he takes it as an invitation to hold her hand properly, her palm fitting neatly in his. “You’ve been living here for a rather long time now, yet this is the first time I’ve bothered to visit. It’s… shameful, really. I truly am sorry.”
He feels the inexplicable impulse to let go of her hand and pull away, but he forces himself to smile at her instead. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, or ashamed of– I never expected you to visit–”
“There are many things that people don’t expect of me,” she says, looking up at him with a resolute gleam in her eyes, “but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t do them regardless.”
…Where is all this coming from?
“I know if I’d ever invited you, you would’ve come without hesitation,” he says carefully. “But I never did, so I don’t see what’s wrong–”
“It was wrong of me to let you remain on your own for all those years,” she says quietly, looking down again. “I… thought of visiting, many times… but in the end, I always made excuses. I always stayed away. But you deserved better. You didn’t deserve to be alone.”
He wishes he could stop and take a sip of his tea, to get rid of this suffocating aridity in his throat, but Adelinde’s moderately trembling hand in his own is an inescapable weight that he can’t move under.
She didn’t need to visit him. If he’d really wanted her company, he could’ve stopped at the mansion at any time. She would’ve welcomed him with open arms, he knows that with absolute certainty. She was always there. Lots of people were there, not just Adelinde. He wasn’t alone.
Even if she had tried to visit, it’s not like he would’ve reacted well. Chances are he would’ve said something unkind to her, like he did to pretty much everyone who ever tried to meddle in his affairs and tell him how to live his life of newfound freedom.
It’s better that she stayed away. That she didn’t give him a chance to hurt her too, on top of everyone else he’d managed to hurt.
He chokes out a laugh, a last-ditch attempt to bring any levity to this suddenly hefty conversation. “I wasn’t alone, Addie. And I’m certainly not alone now, so – please don’t worry about any of that, okay?”
“I still believe I could’ve done more.” She squeezes his hand gently. “I will always be regretful that I didn’t.”
At least he can usually make Diluc give in with a few sharp words and sharper reminders of everything they’ve been through. He can’t do that with her.
It’s so rare for Adelinde to express any sort of weakness, and she’s always been too perceptive. Even if she can’t see the full truth, even if she never calls him out for it, she has an inconvenient and uncanny sense for when he isn’t quite being honest.
So how is he supposed to talk her out of regret she shouldn’t feel? How is he supposed to convince her that he was fine and didn’t need anything from her, when he can hardly convince himself of the same?
“I promise I’m fine. You really don’t need to worry. Please don’t be so hard on yourself.” Diluc does enough of that for all of them as it is. No need to turn it into a family trait.
“Are you sure?” Her voice is barely above a whisper. “Isn’t there… anything you want to talk about?”
Barely above a whisper, yet weighed down with expectation, like she already knows where this conversation will lead and she’s dreading their arrival at that destination.
He has the nauseating feeling that he knows exactly what she’s thinking of. But it’s not something she should be thinking of at all. Not unless–
“Diluc said something to you, didn’t he.”
“Nothing,” she says quickly, shaking her head, “not directly at least, but I… it’s quite easy to know what he’s thinking, sometimes. He was so worried, and there’s only one thing he could be so worried about.”
Fuck.
His idiot brother is less subtle than a goddamn brick, and his anxiety is more contagious than any disease Kaeya’s ever heard of. Of course someone as perceptive as Adelinde would see right through him.
“Addie, listen.” He grips her hand firmly, almost desperately. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, or what Diluc made it sound like, but I promise I’m fine–”
“It’s alright if you’re not,” she says, soft, yet still sharp enough to cleanly cut him off. “Your brother and I – we will always be here for you. So please, just as you ask your brother to rely on you – just as I ask your brother to rely on me – please do the same. Please don’t ever try to hide from us.”
“I promise I won’t.” He grips her hand even more firmly, even more desperately. “I promise – I’m not going anywhere.”
Adelinde’s grip tightens so much that Kaeya thinks he’s about to lose all his fingers. But he tries not to waver – to keep looking her in the eyes, so that she knows he means this, that he isn’t lying, that everything he told Diluc was true so neither of them should worry about it anymore–
A tear rolls down her cheek, then another, and another. One of them splashes into her forgotten tea, while the others land deafeningly on the table beside it, each droplet louder than a torrential rainstorm.
Her lips are trembling, but she doesn’t let a single sound slip out, screwing her eyes shut – though it does nothing to stem the flow of tears.
He’s never felt so lost.
He pushes himself out of his chair. The damn table’s in the way, so he moves around it to sit at her side instead of opposite her, like he should’ve done from the start, probably.
“Addie, please,” he says, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her in the way she used to do with them when they were children, trying not to think about the way she’s shaking ever so lightly in his arms when she’s always been steadier than a rock – “please don’t cry– Diluc will hate me for making you cry–”
“He could never hate you. No one with a good heart could ever hate you, Kaeya.”
Well.
Then I must have the worst heart of all.
“We both love you very dearly. We always have and we always will,” she says, her voice breaking at last, his heart breaking along with it. She pulls away, forcing their gazes to meet, her eyes glistening with yet more tears. “Please, never forget that.”
Both of her hands reach up to cup his face, her fingers flitting across his cheeks, for some reason holding back even with tears dampening her face and making her feelings clearer than Kaeya can ever remember them being.
“You and your brother – perhaps it’s hard to believe, but you really are everything to me.”
She pushes the hair out of his face with a watery smile, and presses those still-trembling lips lightly against his forehead. Kaeya can’t do anything but sit there as she slowly, silently falls apart, all while trying so hard to be strong. For him.
Useless.
“I can’t lose you too.”
“No one’s losing anyone,” he says, refusing to let his voice shake as he pulls one of her hands away from his face, and presses it over his heart instead. “I promise, Adelinde, I promise. I’m right here.”
“Is there a reason?” she asks, so quiet he has to strain to hear it. “Something that happened, to make you feel that way? I– it would help you to talk about it. Please– I want to help you, however I can–”
“I don’t think like that anymore. It’s all in the past. If I ever did have a reason, I can’t remember it now. There’s– you don’t have to do anything. You being here is more than enough. You and Diluc are more than enough. Trust me.”
The hand on his cheek presses a little closer, and he leans into it, smiling up at her as genuinely as he can.
“Then– if you ever start to feel that way again–”
“I’ll come to you. Or Diluc. I promise.”
How many times does he have to promise the same thing before people stop worrying and move on with their lives? Move on to caring about more important things?
Please stop worrying so much.
It hurts me more than anything else could.
Her hands withdraw at last as they move up to wipe her tears away. He reaches for a napkin and silently hands it to her. She takes it with a whispered ‘thank you’ and dabs at her eyes delicately, sniffing quietly.
Even at Father’s funeral – she’d only let herself shed a single tear in front of him. Completely silent and still, so subtle that no one would’ve ever even noticed she’d been crying if they hadn’t been searching for the telltale wetness on her cheeks.
He’s never, ever seen her this affected by anything.
It terrifies him.
“Forgive me, Master Kaeya– this is–”
“Nothing to forgive,” he says quickly, taking the napkin from her and wiping away the last of her tears with his own hands. “If anything, I should be the one asking for forgiveness. I never realised you were so worried about this. I would’ve said something sooner if I’d known. You shouldn’t ever have to worry this much about anything.”
“I think I will always worry for you,” she says, her eyes creasing around the corners as part of a helpless, sad smile. “For both of you. But please don’t misunderstand – it isn’t because I think any less of you. It’s only because I care.”
“I know, Addie. We both know how much you care.” Too much for your own good.
He glances at the abandoned mugs of tea beside them.
He’s had enough of seeing his family cry lately. He’s not going to let this continue any longer.
“Here,” he says as he picks up her mug and presses it into her hands, too quickly for her to protest. “Your tea’s going to go cold.”
She accepts it with great reluctance, lifting it to her lips at an excruciatingly slow pace – but as soon as she takes a sip, he sees some of the tension bleed out of her face, those frown lines gradually smoothing out and leaving her looking less distressed, much to his relief.
“You know what else I know?” he says, flashing her a small but no less mirthful grin. “You really need a break. Maybe in the form of a family trip to Fontaine?”
She exhales softly. “I did say I would consider it.”
“I hope you’ll do a little more than consider it. We all need a break from– all of this, really. It’ll be good for us.”
“…We’ll see.”
“We will see indeed. See three tickets to Fontaine with our names on them– actually, how do you even get to Fontaine?” He hadn’t thought that far ahead when he’d suggested the whole thing. “Do you need tickets?”
“For the train, yes. Unless you intend for us to swim across the channel.”
“The channel…?”
“The city is surrounded by water, much like Mondstadt, except on a far larger scale.” She narrows her eyes just a fraction. “Perhaps your tutors were too lax in your geography lessons, if you’ve forgotten that much.”
It’s hardly his fault that he doesn’t remember the specifics of Fontaine’s geography. It’s literally never crossed his mind once until now. And he’ll learn much more about geography by actually seeing it for himself rather than staring at hollow illustrations on a map, won’t he?
But he doesn’t say that out loud. As much as he wants to distract Adelinde, he’d rather not have to endure a lecture about the value of a broad education, or something equally uninspiring.
So. They’ll be going on a train, will they? He’s never been on one. How exciting.
Wait. “They have a train that goes across water?”
“Don’t be too surprised. I’m sure they’ve come up with much more impressive feats of engineering since then.” She smiles faintly. “It used to be that you could only get in and out by ferry, but that was a long time ago. Almost everyone uses the railway now. It’s much more convenient.”
…She certainly sounds like she’s intimately familiar with all of this, doesn’t she?
Food for thought.
“Did you know that Diluc is secretly an engineering nerd? Well, he’s just a nerd in general, really, but you should’ve heard him talking about this– a giant wheel, or something, that he saw when he was in Fontaine, and–”
“Master Kaeya, I know what you’re doing.”
He smiles innocently. “I’m not doing anything–”
“I know you only want to lighten the mood, but please – do keep in mind everything I said just now, alright? I sincerely meant all of it. And it’s very important that you never forget any of it.”
“Of course, Addie.” He smiles innocently again. Hopefully it looks more sincere this time. “Don’t worry about that. I heard every word, loud and clear. I’m not going to forget it any time soon.”
“Thank you,” she says, far too seriously, as she puts down her mug and runs her fingers through his hair instead at a soothing, steady rhythm – though he has a feeling it’s soothing her more than it’s soothing him.
He wonders if he should say something. Try to lighten the mood again, as Adelinde accused him of doing.
But she’s not so different from his brother. At times like these, it seems like all they really want to do is sit there in the quiet with him, for long enough to convince themselves that everything really is okay and he isn’t going to fall apart as soon as they leave.
He doesn’t really get it.
But fine. He can do this. It’s no trouble at all.
He can sit with Adelinde for as long as she needs him to, give her as many reassurances and promises as it takes to ease her mind, because she deserves nothing less than peace of mind – and if he’s the one responsible for obstructing that, it’s his responsibility to do something about it.
Adelinde had left just as the sun was about to set.
He’d offered to escort her to the winery, or to the city gate at the very least, where the carriage was waiting – but she’d insisted that she didn’t want to trouble him further. And after all of that just now, he hadn’t been able to find it in himself to argue.
He forces his shoulders to drop and his hands to unclench. Letting himself carry all this tension is only going to wear him out more.
It’s one thing to make Diluc worry. He’s never been able to hide how concerned he is, or how much he cares – even if he can’t verbalise his worries, it comes through in every word, every action, that raw fear and guilt permeating everything he does – so it’s never a surprise when he finally admits it.
It’s another thing entirely to make Adelinde worry. Her care is just as obvious, in the gentle, thoughtful, firm way she handles anything that comes her way – but she’s always so collected. Despite how the things they’ve done over the years must have worried her sick, despite everything, she’s always been able to maintain that effortless, flawless composure.
She never cries like that.
Never for such insignificant matters.
She’s more in need of a break than he realised.
Something to discuss with Diluc when he comes home tomorrow. Maybe he’ll think to discuss it with her first, and save Kaeya the trouble.
Tomorrow.
He just needs to hold out until tomorrow. Somehow.
He’s in the doorway to the living room, watching August play with something under the sofa. Her paws are frantically swiping underneath it, hunting for some unseen thing in that thin sliver of darkness – hopefully not a rodent, he doesn’t want to think about an infestation in his house right now, he doesn’t have the energy for that–
An empty wine bottle rolls out, bouncing off the wall with a loud clink. August pounces at it, pushing it all the way to his feet.
…He should’ve guessed.
It’s a good thing he was thinking quickly enough to steer Adelinde away from the living room. She doesn’t need more to worry about. Not that there’s anything to worry about here, but she’d turn it into something anyway, if the way she’d latched on to whatever scraps of information Diluc had let slip are any indication. He can’t give either of them any more room for concern. He’s already given too much as it is, without even trying.
Was that even him back there in the kitchen, saying all those things to her? How much of it did he mean, and how much was just his ever-reliable facade speaking for him?
He doesn’t know how to make sense of any of it.
All he knows is that he wants to forget it. Drown it all out before the memories can take root deep enough in his brain to haunt him whenever he starts to slip.
There’s an easy way to make that happen.
Too easy. So easy that perhaps he should stop and question it.
But he’ll take whatever little conveniences he can get right now.
He heads to the kitchen, leaving August to play with the bottle on the floor to her heart’s content.
Looks like he’s going to have to skip drinks with Rosaria tonight. He can’t look anyone in the eye, not in this state. But he’ll make it up to her another day, it’s no big deal – he still owes her at least two more nights of free drinks, after all, and she never lets a debt like that go unpaid.
He opens the wine cupboard.
Cooking wine doesn’t taste nearly as good as the stuff he could get at the tavern.
But damn if it doesn’t do the job anyway.