Work Text:
Thoma hadn't expected to walk in on the master of the house asleep at his table.
When he knocked and got no response, he had expected that Ayato was merely occupied with his work as per usual. Normally, Thoma left and came back at a better time. But it was late in the afternoon and Ayato had yet to come out for a break.
So despite his better judgment, Thoma entered. Everything was quiet except for the wind, which gently blew through the open windows and engaged in a dance with the candlelight in the lanterns. It was normal- except for Ayato slumped over his work table.
Thoma's heart stopped as he quickly and quietly made his way over to get a closer look. Possibilities ran through his head- did he overwork himself? Sick, perhaps? Ayato was excellent at the art of concealing his true emotions, for better or for worse, so it was nearly impossible to tell until it was nearly too late.
He bent down, putting a hand on Ayato's left shoulder. "Master Ayato, are you-"
A sigh was heard, and the lord's head turned towards Thoma. Ayato's eyes were closed, his breath quiet and steady. Thoma let out a quiet sigh of relief.
"My Lord, you shouldn't be asleep at the table like this. You'll worry the servants." Like you worried me for a second there. Thoma looked towards the window. Though the sun had yet to set, the remaining rays seeped into the room and covered everything in a golden glow. It wasn't time for dinner, yet he'd have to get started on it soon.
However, he needed to make sure Ayato was comfortable first.
For starters, he got up and closed the windows to a crack; he didn't want Ayato to get cold, after all. He then went back to the table and began carefully sorting the papers. Although the piles were.. at least in the right place, considering the lord's habits, Ayato's sleeves caused some to be trapped underneath him or knocked to the floor.
Maybe he was too tired to care where his sleeves went. Thoma thought as he bent down. But I'll need to move them if I'm going to be able to organize everything. Slowly, he tucked his hand underneath Ayato's and-
He pulled away. Where were Ayato's gloves? Thoma didn’t recall a single moment where the lord went anywhere without his black gloves. Wonder if milady convinced him to take them off for a while? The sudden contact against skin initially surprised Thoma yet it interested him. What did the lord's hands feel like? I shouldn't- this isn't what a housekeeper should be doing! And yet…
He knew that Ayato trusted him; Thoma visited and spoke to him more frequently than the rest of the servants. In his mind, he knew he shouldn't let any selfish thoughts get in the way of carrying out his duties for the Kamisato clan.
In his heart, however, he knew this was a rare opportunity to show Ayato how much he cared for him. How grateful he was for the chance to remain by his side for so long. How much he loved him. Even if he weren't awake to see it, the gesture and knowledge would be enough to keep Thoma content.
With that, Thoma made up his mind and reached again.
Ayato's hand felt soft across his palm and on the back when Thoma let his fingers lightly dance across. He gently lifted his arm. With his other hand, he tucked the sleeve underneath before lowering it.
The other sleeve had to be tucked in as well. So he moved to his lord's right and repeated the process. This was Ayato's wielding hand, so he wasn't too surprised at the roughness of his palm as he took it. For a brief moment, Thoma wondered if a leader's hands were fated to be this way- a testament to a lord's capability to lead peacefully with one hand and protect his clan with the other.
Maybe so, but Thoma knew better than to assume. He tucked the sleeve in and stood up, going back to cleaning up the table. Everything was put back in their proper places, though Thoma made sure that notes from servants and Ayaka remained in his line of sight to read when he woke up. The plants on Ayato's desk were watered earlier when he came in so there was no need to worry about them.
This meant that it was time to focus on Ayato again. Thoma knew this room like the back of his hand, so he knew there was a spare blanket in a closet nearby. It was a light, blue blanket that was kept here in case of emergency- the emergency being an occasion like this. None of the other servants questioned its purpose, just that it needed to be washed once in a while so that it remained clean.
Once he grabbed the blanket and returned, Thoma unfolded it. He carefully draped it over Ayato’s shoulders, being mindful of his head. When he stepped back for a moment, he was pleased with how well the blanket covered the other man’s body. Except there was one detail off.
“Let me get that for you, My Lord,” Thoma whispered as he bent down. With a gentle sweep of his fingers, he tucked Ayato’s bangs behind his ear to clear up his face.
Thoma rarely took a good look at Ayato’s face; he never thought so since he was by his side so much. Here he saw the fine features of his face: his long eyelashes, the curve of his jaw, his faint mole below his lips that fulfilled the persona of an elegant lord- at a distance. He also saw the light eye bags underneath his eyes, the faint wrinkles on his face, and how his lips were pursed as if he were thinking of solving diplomatic issues in his dreams as well. The balance of duties as a commissioner was maintained even in the face.
Sleep allowed Ayato's face to appear peaceful- and gave Thoma a glimpse on what could've been. If Ayato got more time in peaceful times, if he hadn't been dealt a difficult hand by fate as a child. Maybe if he have had more time to spend with Ayaka and his parents, and had the opportunity to grow at his own pace. Had opportunities now to spend with Ayaka and him. Thoma's hometown of Mondstadt valued freedom as a way of life, while his new home within Inazuma valued eternity as a steadfast pursuit. Whether a balance can be struck between the two, he didn't know. But if it was able to be done without compromising the stability of Ayato's position, it was a risk he’d take.
A sigh from Ayato brought Thoma out of his thoughts- and to realize his fingers still remained on the man's cheeks. He pulled away quickly, face growing warm. The room was growing darker with the setting sun; dinner had to be started soon or else it'd be late. He overstayed his visit.
Thoma got up and walked to the door. As he placed a hand on it, he turned back to Ayato. "I hope your dreams are pleasant, My Lord. I'll be back soon to wake you up."
As Thoma's steps faded into silence, so too did the facade.
Ayato opened his eyes and rose to full posture, keeping a hand on the blanket wrapped around him. Lifting his sleeves out from under him, he made sure they were straightened out and draped along his sides.
With his other hand, he opened and reached into a drawer. His other hand drifted down as he carefully slid his gloves back on, one by one. All was well with the Kamisato Commissioner.
Yet Ayato felt a pang of guilt, a drop of water into the still pond. Pretending to sleep on his desk when Thoma came to visit, it was a childish and cruel prank even for a mischievous man such as himself.
Childish, for only children who wanted their parents' affections without having to say a word did such a thing.
And cruel, to both Thoma and to himself. He considered opening his eyes when he felt a light brush against his cheek if only to watch the way his eyes grew in surprise when he did. He’d apologized for nodding off and worrying Thoma if he did that. Then they’d talk about how the day went for each of them as if nothing had happened.
Yet he didn't. He couldn't do that to him. Ayato brought the blanket closer to him as he looked across his desk. This blanket had to be folded and returned to the closet, and the cleaning efforts were in vain as the desk became a mess once more.
All would be well with the Kamisato Commissioner. Until Ayato let this happen again, let himself fall under the care of his housekeeper if only for a brief moment to bring life to a dream. A dream kept afloat with a camellia on the water's still surface.
May my dreams be pleasant. With that, he picked up his pen and returned to work.