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She wasn’t drunk, really.
A little bit tipsy maybe, but not enough that she could forget what had transpired earlier that evening.
Nor was she numbed by alcohol enough that she does not take particular notice of the soft hands intertwined with hers as they walk towards her house, the warm body so close to hers in contradiction of the chilly air of Mondstadt. Her legs felt a little wobbly if she’s being a little bit more honest. She’s trying a little hard to keep up appearance that she can tread in an absolute straight line yet insists that she can still walk without any support whatsoever.
She will not however complain that Lisa’s arms were on her waist, walking with her in the late hours of Saturday evening. She’s so soft, so warm, and so fragrant as she usually is, but Jean’s intoxicated mind led her to take specific notice of how her companion currently invades her senses. Lisa held her so gently like the Librarian’s afraid Jean will fall flat on her face any minute due to the amount of alcohol she consumed.
The walk was short but not sweet, instead she kept fighting the urge to blurt whatever had been on her mind since the Traveler told her that it was Lisa who asked them to accompany Jean at the terrace of Angel’s Share. Whatever it was though, she hadn’t fully comprehended herself. Perhaps, that alcoholic beverage which Kaeya cajoled Jean to drink hit her worse than her initial assessment.
Her companion shivered a little while they were walking -what with her short sleeves and usual purple garbs which gives a slight peek to her wondrous chest which Jean admires and sneakily delights upon; and so does the rest of Mondstadt to Jean’s equal disdain. Jean wanted to pull her towards her then and embrace her fully, just to provide her with a little warmth but she did not -of course, as it would not be appropriate, and settled instead with asking if she needed a coat as a proper Knight would. The other refused vehemently noting that they were already close to the comfort of Jean’s house.
They reach her home and as a perfectly respectable Knight, and a good friend, Jean asked her companion inside, just for some tea as gratitude towards the librarian being kind enough to accompany the Acting Grand Master home despite the chilly air which blanketed their City, the still ongoing ‘thank you party’ with free drinks that Lisa likes so much, and the Librarian’s house being situated on the opposite direction.
Quickly, the Acting Grand Master set about lighting a small fire to offset the chilly outside. Small flames danced around the fireplace and blanketed them with warmth. Meanwhile, Lisa offered to make the tea for them herself -telling Jean to relax and laughing slightly at her incredulous face for having a guest do some chores for her instead.
Jean at first protested, arguing that she is not in any way drunk enough that she’ll fumble tea making, but when she stood up a tad too abrupt the room spun a little, promptly shutting her up.
When Lisa was done brewing and serving their tea, they settled in Jean’s couch in silence.
“Are you okay?” Lisa asked, hands daintily on her teacups. “I noticed you drank some wine and cocktails, more than you usually does. Come to think of it, I have never seen you drank anything before that’s not coffee. Is our Grand Master finally becoming an adult?”
Jean’s face heats up a little, slightly annoyed at the suggestion that she’s no more than an innocent younger woman to the Librarian, despite their actual close age -Lisa was after all just a year and a few months older than her. “What do you mean? Lisa! This is not the first time I drank alcohol please... I’m just… not a usual drinker…”
Lisa laughed at that. Jean was just too cute and too fun to tease.
“Did you have a good time earlier?”
Jean nodded, sipped her tea a little as her head pounded lightly. A discomfort, but its light enough that she does not need any medicine nor a healer for it. An aftereffect of the wine and the cocktail she surmised, but actually did not mind.
“Good.” Lisa said, mirth on her eyes, in a tone that Jean knows very well -teasing.
“I heard you and the traveler had a rather long conversation, under the blanket of the stars… the chilly night of Mondstadt…. which is to say..” Lisa paused, and suggestively arched one of her perfect eyebrows.
”...a perfect excuse for you and the Traveler to become closer together... unaccompanied at the terrace.”
Lisa’s voice was beautiful, don’t get her wrong. It usually is the source of her comfort– a voice lulling her into peace, blanketing every stress on her body in a cocoon of warm embrace and with the softness only Lisa is capable to give. She usually cannot get enough of her, her voice, her presence, her brains -of everything that is Lisa. She loves the way Lisa usually teases her, despite her vocal protests of contradiction.
But the teasing remark were too much on her lightly pounding head tonight. Just for tonight, blame it on the alcohol and its aftereffects. Right now, it’s annoying her.
Lisa’s insinuations were not lost on her. She’s not dumb. It was indeed a most romantic setting. She had heard that it was Lisa herself who asked the traveler to accompany Jean on the terrace. She felt a hot, searing rage fill her completely then. However, with great effort she was able to keep that same rage inside; outwardly shown only through the slight changes in the wind and in the crinkling of her eyebrow and tightly closed fists.
How inappropriate for her to be feeling that way.
She recognized it for what it was then, although unable and unwilling to give it a name.
How scandalous and unbecoming of an Acting Grand Master. So, when Kaeya cajoled her to drink a glass of his favorite cocktail, she hesitated only a little and proceeded to drown the whole thing in one go.
It was refreshing. An action a little unsuitable for a Gunnhildr heir; but the alcohol’s promise of alleviating the pain that came along the searing anger was too irresistible even for someone as disciplined as herself. Perchance, she construed that she can allow herself a reprieve, just for this one night, as everyone else asked her to do anyway. Besides if anyone asks, she can just say that she was merely accepting Kaeya’s request. A perfect excuse really but if she’s being perfectly honest, she doesn’t know who she’s trying to convince with that sad excuse; maybe it was mostly herself.
Earlier, the setting was beautiful indeed, the moon was perched high above the beautiful city of Mondstadt, only feather-like clouds dotted the space above which allowed them to see the myriad of stars glinting beautifully in the night sky. Jean was alone in the terrace, and knowing that she was alone, Lisa instead asked the traveler to come up to accompany her. Lisa did not come upstairs herself. Lisa instead asked someone else. Lisa knew she’s upstairs then. Lisa knew they would be left unaccompanied there.
Lisa did not come.
It was a beautiful night as though it is a scene from one of her favorite romance books.
For some reason, these series of facts annoyed Jean.
And as though it wasn’t enough to drive her point forward, Lisa kept talking about the traveler and kept on insinuating to Jean the romance they could have experienced earlier that night at that dumb terrace, like she did not know that nothing actually happened; like she did not mind at all that someone else was besides Jean then; like she isn’t aware that Jean does not like the traveler more than as an honorary Knight; like she has no inkling that Jean does not see Eula, Diluc or anyone else for that matter romantically; like it means nothing to Lisa that they had just walked hand-in-hand, bodies pressed closer every year throughout the Windlume festival.
Perhaps it really does mean nothing to her after all...
Jean wanted to be mad, to cry, break off some things, punch some dummies, run to Dragonspine, swing her sword around, or all of the above.
Archons, please.
It was frustrating and annoying.
Jean took a sip of her tea, eyebrows scrunched up together as anger fills her once again slowly this time around, and her hands clams up on the teacups roughly. She reminded herself to calm down, the teacups were Lisa’s gift and she does not really want to break them. Still, irritation is coming at her now in force unrelenting and conspicuous, coupled with the insistent pounding in her head. Her alcohol ladled mind was keeping her from exercising the full extent of her discipline this time with regards to reigning in her rather inappropriate feelings in check.
She glanced at Lisa’s pretty face. She was wearing a teasing smile, so beautiful, so perfect but so infuriating.
It annoyed her to no ends.
Lisa noticed the change in Jean’s behavior, having not responded to her teasing in a few moments too long. The usual blush and the sound of her usual denial not forthcoming. The teasing smile on her lips grew awkward, became lopsided and she was left with no choice but to broke off the tension from their gaze, looking down at her teacups and taking a rather long sip.
She noticed Jean’s hands closed in on the teacups tightly. Briefly, she wonders if Jean will break it but banished the thought on her head when nothing happened as a few seconds passed by them. A surprise, really. Jean usually does not hesitate to speak her mind, not with Lisa anyway. They were usually not this.. tense.. and uncomfortable.
She shifted on her seat and sigh, ready to ask Jean what’s making her react so unlike her usual calm and collected demeanor. It could be the alcohol. Lisa was ready to give her some potions in case she needed some. Lisa was also ready to talk it out with Jean, if that’s what she prefers. Anything really, just something!
The Librarian was about to ask her what’s wrong just to break the eerie tension in the air between them when Jean beat her to it.
“Why?”
Jean’s voice was deep and filled with barely repressed anger. Its intensity surprised Lisa. Jean had never been angry with her, and just the thought of it made her a little teary eyed. Jean was still holding the teacup tightly and her jaw was pressed firmly, gritting her teeth she hissed again, “Why?”
Why what. Lisa was unsure. “Did I miss something, Jean?”
“Why would you ask the traveler to come up to me at the terrace, Lisa?”
This was so unlike Jean to react at her teasing with anger. She may have gone too far this time.
“I apologize Jean. I did not mean to cause you any annoyance at all. I simply thought… that you’d appreciate a companion at that time. The night was young and lovely. Forgive my thoughtlessness.”
Lisa wondered whether Jean wanted someone else to go together with her at that moment. Perhaps, a certain red-haired guy, or a blue-haired woman and Lisa might just have ruined that for her.
“I do appreciate a companion but not...” Jean trailed off but did not finish, her forehead still creased and hands still tight on the teacups.
Huh. Lisa’s heart thundered, nervous that she is making a mistake that she’s not even aware of. Fearing that they were heading towards a conversation that if she’s being totally honest, she’s not exactly prepared for and would prefer to stay away from.
She’s not dumb. The librarian understands that Jean’s a little inebriated, the alcohol loosening her tongue and making her say things she usually never would. She understands the implications and had an inkling of the unsaid words between them. She feels herself panicking a little, afraid of the mess she knows they’ll stumble into if they keep going on this same direction.
She’s afraid of what Jean will tell her and of its aftermath.
She’s ill-prepared of wherever the conversation is going.
Curses.
Not for the first time she wonders when she will ever finally move on from the shackles that she created herself. When will Jean finally tell her how much she loves another, so Lisa can finally move on from her, lick her own wounds and watch in silence as the woman she loves be happy with someone else.
That would hurt, no doubt. But at least then, she’ll finally be free.
The librarian had accepted long ago that Jean will never love her the way she feels for her. Lisa had long ago quenched that thirst and desire. She put buckets of water herself to that fire.
She will admit however that the ember burns hot still beneath the surface. At the deepest part of herself, she cannot deny that hope still wells on her heart and that she still longs that someday, the Acting Grand Master will return the same love. Yet, she’s aware that those are mere words conjured by her own wretched mind and imagination, wishes along the dandelions carried by the winds where its going absolutely nowhere.
What she needs really, is to put out that fire completely, absolutely and without fail.
Vaguely, she thought that this was the time for it. Right here. Right now. It feels like that she is at the precipice of what she had been asking for and equally fears to receive at the same time. It hit her like a knife through her heart. Like a madman. Like a lunatic wishing for freedom through death. Like this poison is the only cure for her wretchedness.
Jean, she thought, was about to confess something to her. She knows it’s about love -call it a Witch’s intuition. Possibly the real reason why she got drunk tonight and Lisa equally wants to hear and dreads it.
Dreads the name that will come out of the Acting Grand Master’s lips, for she knows it’s not hers.
It’s not Lisa’s. Never.
She needs to breathe.
Lisa reminded herself what she had since accepted the day she realized her dumb feelings. Right here. Right now. Jean was about to put the final nail in the coffin and after, Lisa had to bury her feelings six feet under, where no one would know -a secret she’ll keep for herself till her life ends. When she can finally die but be free. Where the memory of her unrequited love will most probably kill her, but at least her longing and suffering shall be done, once and for all. A living dead but at least, free.
All she has to do, is be brave.
All she has to do, is ask Jean who is the lucky person in her heart, the one who’ll kill Lisa figuratively, and set her free.
At least she will finally be free. She keeps reminding herself.
She does not like it all. But whatever she likes does not matter anymore. Not at this moment. Not anymore.
“I understand Jean. I apologize again for the teasing and the wrong insinuations.” She said hurriedly.
Lisa took a deep breath. Her heart thundered loudly, and tears began pooling in her eyes already, anticipating the pain she’ll have to endure for the woman she loves but can never have.
Be brave.
“Tell me..” Lisa began, her voice croaking slightly. “…who is it I should’ve ask? Is it Eula?”
Lisa took a deep breath. “Diluc?”
Crack!
Lisa flinched.
The frames and small trinkets atop the desks and tables rattled.
Jean gripped the teacup tightly. Too firmly in fact that the ceramic cup broke in her hands with a loud pop, shocking Lisa.
The wind swirled around them, not strong enough to topple anything but biting enough to be considered dangerous.
Lisa shivered a little but remained steadfast in her seat. A glance at Jean’s hands and she saw that the shards did little to no damage at the Acting Grand Master’s gloves much less her hands.
Her mind was racing a-mile-a-minute. Trying to keep up with Jean’s unusual expression. Truthfully, she doesn’t know what to do. She was in all forms and context, quite lost.
Sure, there was not a fear in her heart and her mind. Jean will never hurt her. But still, the dandelion kept swirling in Jean’s living room, air thick with its scent – lovely in any other day, but for now suffocating in the lingering tension of words she feels is left unsaid between them.
“Jean…” She stood up and tried to reach the Dandelion Knight. “What’s the matter, dearest?”
The trinkets around them rattled louder. Competing with the loud beating of Lisa’s own heart.
Jean clenched her teeth.
“You…” The Knight paused and took a deep breath.
“Me...?”
Jean huffed in response but remained silent. She crossed her arms and averted her gaze away from Lisa’s. Cheeks slightly red, feeling quite like a petulant child. The pounding in her head continued, more incessant than earlier as it rode the height of her frustrations, competing with the loud and quick thudding of her heavy heart.
Meanwhile, the Witch’s eyebrows scrunched up. Confusion clear on her countenance. She cannot seem to fathom whatever is on Jean’s mind at that instance. Sure, she might’ve misread Jean’s intention about the traveler, but the proportion of Jean’s annoyance far surpasses Lisa’s expectations and of what she knows of Jean.
This might be the alcohol’s heavy effect on their Acting Grand Master.
“You don’t understand, Lisa.”
“Did I say something wrong?” The librarian said with a smile, trying to coax Jean out of her own shell.
“Tell me Lisa, would it be okay with you if I say someone else’s name?”
Lisa did not answer, blankly gazing at the Acting Grand Master.
“Would it have been okay with you, if I want someone else with me in that terrace then?”
Yes. It would be okay. She wanted to lie.
But Jean looked at her with such intensity. Her blues eyes in a slit, eyes a darker shade of blue than she remembered gazing at all through the various mornings at Jean’s office. Her fists were balled at her sides, and Lisa saw the anger in her body language barely contained. Still beautiful in her barely concealed rage as if begging the librarian not to lie or all hell would’ve broken loose. Under that scrutinizing intensity, Lisa was unable to just blurt a lie.
A ‘yes’ felt like lead on her tongue but a ‘no’ feels like a poison for her own inability to express her own feelings. If there’s anything she would’ve like to keep for the rest of her life it would be Jean’s friendship, so Lisa promised to not cause their relationship a rift.
She will not burden the Acting Grand Master with these feelings. The longings she knows will never be returned.
She wanted to be brave and ask if it could be her; if it is possible that Jean wants Lisa in the damned terrace earlier, but the words keep on dying on her lips, eaten by her own doubts and reserves. This is the one risk, where she is not willing to stake. A storm she was not willing to brave.
So Lisa settled instead with a, “W-What do you even mean, Jean? I do not understand.”
Vaguely she’s aware of the existence of a gaping wound on her chest opening figuratively, but it will heal, she was sure. Its like putting pressure on the knife already buried deep in her heart, but Lisa is adamant that she will endure for Jean and for herself.
Jean sighed at that.
“Nevermind…” She whispered softly, her shoulders slumping as she covered her face with her hands, trying to hold back the tears already pooling at her eyes. A rare moment of vulnerability.
All her life, Jean had never allowed anyone to see her close in tears, much less cry -a sign of weakness that she just not allowed to possess. She is not weak, but the tears keep on pooling on her eyes; unshed yet, but was threatening to fall any minute.
Lisa cannot seem to understand her. Cannot understand what she’s trying to tell her, and to think she’s Sumeru’s best graduate in the last 100 years. She wanted to scoff at the other’s obvious nonchalance if only she is able for her life and sanity to associate anything negative to the lovely librarian. But she cannot. It’s frustrating. The unspoken confession clearly the source of the hotness and pain searing in her entirety since earlier at the ‘thank you party’.
All she wanted was a little acknowledgement from Lisa, that perhaps the Witch somehow wanted to spend the night at that Archons-forsaken terrace with Jean instead. That somehow Lisa wanted just for a tad bit to experience and see Mondstadt’s lovely night sky in Jean’s arms and in her embrace. That somehow Lisa would feel a little bit of jealousy if Jean spends a romantic evening with anyone else and not- not be one who sets her up with literally anybody else in Mondstadt, except Lisa herself.
All these considering, Jean knows she cannot blame Lisa. This is a special kind of pain she’ll have to bear alone. Suffer alone. A fault entirely her own.
Jean will not tell Lisa directly how much she pines for her. That in all honesty, it was Lisa she wants alone with her tonight, tomorrow and dare she be greedy -for as long as she can have her.
Damned as she is already, she refuses to be the reason that might bring their relationship to fall apart, however. Whatever friendship they have right now is her precious haven, her peace in her otherwise almost falling apart life, her calm in the storm that is the pressure of her name, heritage and responsibility.
Jean will not allow herself to be greedy, pining for something more with Lisa, yes, but only that. Jean will bear the pain of unrequited love, if such sacrifice means that Lisa will not leave her side -as a friend, as a colleague, as a librarian and nothing more but also nothing less.
She will not burden Lisa with these feelings. The longings Jean knows Lisa will never return.
The ache in her heart gripped her being. So sudden was the realization that she means nothing more than a friend to the witch or possibly just as an Acting Grand Master, and along with it the sudden ache. The pounding in her head seemed to grew more intense and the room started spinning as a stray tear fell from her eyes. It shocked her. The wetness in her cheeks.
“Jean, look at me!” The librarian began, urgency clear in her tone.
Hands still covering her face, Jean said so softly that Lisa strained to hear her. “I’m not feeling well. Would it be alright if I ask you to go for now Lisa? I’m so sorry.”
But Lisa’s hand was already on her wrist tugging her hands away from her face before the gravity of her own words became understandable to the both of them.
Lisa shook her head and said softly, “No. Let me accompany you for a while. Just for a while, please.”
She was so close to her that Jean can feel her warmth and smell her lovely fragrance.
Unconsciously, the pain on her chest settled a little bit.
The room stopped spinning for a moment.
And the swirling wind vanished.
Only dandelions were left on the wake of her temporary loose inhibitions.
“I need you to relax, Jean.”
Jean wishes selfishly once more that Lisa reserves this gentleness only for her. It is greedy of her to want for something more, but she will not deny that she does, unabashedly and all too unfortunate. Hope again and again fully bloomed on Jean’s heart, she tried to kill it, but it mocked her for its seeming invincibility and now its rearing its ugly head right at her consciousness, as alcohol seemed to help it take over.
When will Lisa finally understand what she’s trying to say here? The direct words she was too afraid to speak, feelings she was too scared to express but prayed to Celestia and the Winds of Mondstadt that Lisa will take the hint.
Right here. Right now. A happy-end to Jean’s misery was just arm’s length away and so is actual misery. Both feels so close, she can just reach out to grasp either. The Acting Grand Master feels the misery imminent more than its contrary, should she take the chance. Of course, she will not.
She’s just too afraid to lay it all bare.
But she was too tired of keeping everything to herself.
She wanted to be vulnerable, blurt it out and damn the consequences.
Yet she cannot. Jean’s all too aware of this.
Lisa was wiping the stray tears in an instant, hovering over Jean with her stupid beautiful face, dumb rich twinkling eyes so close to Jean’s face, the Acting Grand Master can see the tiny freckles in her foolish cute cheeks. Jean only have to close a little gap and she could’ve claimed Lisa’s silly soft-looking, luscious lips with her own ones. But she did not. That would be too inappropriate of her.
Instead, Jean just kept on looking at her dumbly. Breathing deeply. The smell of roses wafting in her nose that she thought Lisa’s fragrance cured her inebriation. She focused on that; else she won’t be able to stop herself from running her free hands in the Witch’s chestnut brown hair. Again, that would be unbecoming.
Jean sighed loudly when Lisa squeezed her hands next. The librarian smiled at her and asked softly, “Are you okay?”
“Yes.. Sorry for breaking the teacups. You gifted that to me...”
“It’s quite alright. I’ll give you some new ones. You know I have a lot of spares, honey.” Lisa assured her, voice still soft and a sad smile ghosting her lips.
“Not any one of them.” Jean blurted out.
“Sorry?”
“Not the Traveler. Not Diluc. Not Eula. Not any one of them. I don’t want them then. I don’t want them now. Or ever.” Jean elaborated, looking straightly at Lisa’s green eyes.
Only you Lisa, she wanted to add but did not.
To Lisa their time together might mean nothing, but to Jean it means peace, warmth and care she only ever truly felt with the librarian and for once in her life.
“May I ask who then?”
Lisa was staring at her now, big eyes so full of question. Jean knows, she cannot burden such a compassionate woman with her own stupidity, with her own selfishness. She hoped that the librarian will accept her feelings but understands it’s a long shot to the moon. The hope swells in her heart, she will not deny, but the chances of Lisa echoing the same feelings, is one in a trillion.
Doubt eats her; doubt that she’s not enough; doubt that she’s capable of keeping Lisa happy; doubt that someone like Jean deserves the perfection that is Lisa Minci.
Though with Lisa so close with her still, and with the conspicuous amount of alcohol in her system and the courage the liquid brings, loosening her tongue- Jean wonders a scenario in which she’s brave enough to confess. Sure, she’s brave- Jean will not hesitate to face anyone or anything at the battlefield but this requires another level of braveness she’s not sure she quite possesses.
She steeled herself.
Perhaps now is one of the times it is crucial to be brave and vulnerable.
Meanwhile, Lisa’s hands quivered in the ensuing silence, as she awaits her doom she knows will follow from Jean’s answer. She mentally goes over the lists of Mondstadt’s most eligible bachelors and bachelorettes in preparation of the ensuing pain. At least by listing everyone, the shock and the hurt might be abated even just for a little.
It was not easy for her to be vulnerable.
Asking Jean that question was like stabbing anew a wound which took her weeks to heal.
But she steeled herself.
She was ready- ready for Jean to hurt her, her heart was fully open and vulnerable.
It is now. Or never.
The silence stretched between them.
Lisa looked at Jean looking at her.
Blue met green.
Lisa took a deep breath and asked once again.
“Who is it, Jean?”