Chapter Text
There are two things Rosaria’s learned from these late night outings with Kaeya - the first being that when Kaeya is drunk, his filter comes off. Completely.
The people of Monstadt like to paint Kaeya out as some kind of prince-like, could-do-no-wrong figure, so it’s only because of Kaeya’s drunken confessions that Rosaria’s realized it’s all actually a huge load of crap. Kaeya is actually - for the lack of a better word - an ass. (Not that Rosaria has any room to judge him for it, what with her being the way that she is.)
And the second thing: he never remembers anything the next day.
With her, it’s: “Sometimes I just want to strangle Albert. Or like… deck him in the face. Don’t you just hate him?”. But the next day, he’s all: “Good morning, Albert! I hope you’re doing alright today!”.
The person Kaeya puts himself out to be and the person he really is is quite literally day-and-night. It’s intriguing. Amusing, even.
All this is to say that Rosaria rather enjoys listening to what Kaeya has to say when he’s inebriated. She enjoys being privy to this hidden side of the esteemed Cavalry Captain - this side that has absolutely no filter whatsoever. Kaeya’s ability to become a completely different person should the situation call for it is just so… fascinating.
Tonight, however, she’s becoming increasingly aware that there’s something seriously wrong with him.
He’d walked into Angel’s Share with a strange look on his face and practically collapsed onto the seat beside her’s. It wasn’t the first time he’d shown up after a seemingly bad day, so Rosaria hadn’t thought to ask.
He at least had half a mind to greet her, dishing out a half-assed “hey” before downing one of the drinks Rosaria had ordered for the both of them to start.
The two of them have been drinking together in silence since.
Sometime around the fifth (well, his fifth - her second) round of drinks, Kaeya slumps over the table, resting his head against a loosely closed fist, and exhales. She’s seen this exact image enough times to know that the liquor’s beginning to get to Kaeya.
It’s strange though, Rosaria thinks, because this is usually the part where he starts to talk his ass off. And yet, he’s dead silent.
“Kaeya,” she calls.
Nothing.
She nudges his shoulder. “Hey.”
Nothing.
She starts drumming the claws of her gauntlet against the counter, certain it’ll get at least some kind of reaction out of Kaeya. She knows he hates it when she does this.
But still, nothing. He simply stares down at his empty glass, quiet and unmoving.
It’s only when Charles goes down into the cellar that Kaeya snaps out of his stupor, flinching almost violently at the sound of the door slamming shut. For a split-second he looks panicked - like he’s forgotten where he is - but he quickly regains his composure.
Rosaria can’t stop the question that flies out of her mouth: “What the hell’s up with you tonight?”
Kaeya sighs.
“I almost died today,” he finally says, words slurring only slightly, even after several rounds - a true testament to Kaeya’s ever-growing alcohol tolerance.
Occupational hazard, is Rosaria’s first thought. Being a knight comes with its risks - Rosaria knows this. Rosaria knows that Kaeya knows this.
If you get shaken up every time something bad happens, then maybe you should find another job, she thinks.
She’s just about ready to tell him this when she casts a glance at him and notices it: the cold, hollow look in Kaeya’s eye. Suddenly, the words die out in her mouth.
She’s seen Kaeya at his best: fashionably dressed, adorned with silver and gold. She’s also seen him drunk off his ass, pathetically hunched over a trash can on the street, vomiting up his dinner.
She can’t recall a single time where she’s seen him like this, though.
He looks… utterly exhausted.
Somehow, the sight of him has her struggling to come up with a proper response, and in the end, all she can think to say is, “Oh.”
Kaeya doesn’t seem to care that she’d been staring and instead says, “But the funny thing is, I… I wasn’t afraid. In fact…” He looks away and trails off - and she can almost see the way his eye glazes over again.
“In fact…?” Rosaria echoes. “Kaeya?”
“I was kind of disappointed when I realized I’d survived,” Kaeya blurts out.
What?
“What?”
“I don’t know… I just - I can’t explain it.” Kaeya exhales. He furrows his eyebrows, thinking. Then, “Do you ever feel like… like you’d be better off… dead?”
Rosaria stills.
The atmosphere between them darkens considerably.
It’s not like this is the first time she’s heard something like this, but even so, Rosaria doesn’t know how to respond. She’d usually write it off as some kind of dark, morbid joke - the kind that she herself likes to make - but for some reason, she has a gut feeling that Kaeya isn’t joking.
And for some other reason, Rosaria’s chest clenches painfully at that thought.
She doesn’t know why. Is she worried about Kaeya? Definitely not. Her relationship with him is one that only exists within this tavern. She and Kaeya are drinking partners and nothing more.
(At least, that’s what she tells herself.)
“I, um, don’t,” Rosaria answers. “But do you, uh… wanna talk about it?” she asks in efforts to console him. And, shit, it had come out so horribly; is she really so emotionally stunted that she can’t say nice things out loud?
Bar…Bartobas, help me , she thinks , this is so fucking awkward.
Still, Rosaria presses on - albeit a bit stiffly. “Um, I mean, if there’s something going on, you can tell me. We’re… friends, so I’ll hear you out.” She tries not to wince at the way she practically had to force the word ‘friends’ out of her mouth. And if Kaeya had noticed it, he - thankfully - doesn’t mention it.
“Do you really mean that?“ he says instead.
“Well, yeah.”
“Then, can I tell you something?” Kaeya asks. He speaks so slowly that it makes her anxious. “Something that… I’ve never told anyone before?”
“Sure…?” she replies, feeling somewhat entranced by the way Kaeya is staring right into her eyes. For someone who only has one visible eye, he’s got one hell of a piercing gaze.
“Lately, I’ve been wondering,” Kaeya’s voice drops to a whisper, “if I should just get on with it.”
Huh?
“Get on with it?” It doesn’t register at first. Rosaria blinks at him, not seeing how this is relevant. “Get on with what, exactly?”
Kaeya doesn’t say anything else, just continues to stare at her.
Then it finally clicks, and - oh.
Oh.
“You…! Kaeya, what are you—“
Charles chooses that exact moment to emerge from the cellar and just like that, the moment is over. The openness in Kaeya’s expression dissipates and suddenly he’s drinking again.
Kaeya casts a look towards Charles, back at her, then down at the table, contemplating something. Then, out of nowhere, his face brightens and his hand comes up on her shoulder. “Hahah! I’m only joking, of course! You should’ve seen your face!”
Rosaria frowns. It’s a lie. It’s obviously a lie.
“Kaeya,” she tries.
He ignores her and turns to Charles. “I think I’m done for the night. D’you mind putting this all on Diluc’s tab? Thanks!”
There’s a twinge of… something showing on Kaeya’s face. Something that he can’t mask, even with that blinding smile of his. Rosaria thinks it might look like regret.
“Captain Kaeya…” Charles looks reluctant. “With all due respect, I don’t really think Master Diluc would appreciate - “
“Bah, don’t worry about it.” Kaeya laughs. “He owes me some favors, anyway. If he gives you any trouble, just let me know, okay? I’ll deal with him.”
“Ah… alright, then.”
Kaeya beams. “Wonderful! You’re the best.”
“Don’t mention it.”
She watches the way Kaeya pointedly ignores her gaze in favor of gathering his things. She should probably be annoyed by this, she thinks, and if it were any other day, she certainly would’ve called him out on it.
But looking at him now, Rosaria can’t even bring herself to be angry at him. Instead, she just feels… sad.
And before she realizes it, she’s grabbing Kaeya by the wrist and asking something she’ll certainly regret once Kaeya sobers up:
“Can I crash at your place tonight?”