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Angel’s Share had a larger number of customers during the New Moon. It was only so busy because of the return of its owner. No one really knew the reason the owner would vanish at times. At least, almost everyone.
Though, the artist who seemed enthralled by his sketch was not concerned with that in the least.
He sat on the second floor of the tavern, watching the redhead making drink after drink. Though it wouldn’t be apparent to everyone else, the artist could see it in his gestures and in the speed at which he’d make the drinks: The bartender loved serving the people of Mondstadt.
He studied his gestures before returning to the paper and charcoal in front of him. He only wished to capture the essence of the bartender—something for him to hold onto in the absence of the bartender on his adventures.
Adventures. The artist would hardly call them that. Death wishes, maybe. Death missions, absolutely.
A hand gently rested on his shoulder, pulling him from his thoughts as a glass of wine was set on the table beside him. He looked up to meet the redhead’s eyes. He quickly looked back at the bar. Sure enough, the bartender wasn’t behind the bar and standing beside him.
“The lighting’s not good for your eyes,” He said. “I’ll have Charles bring a lantern for you.” he blinked as he eyed the piece and nodded. “It looks good, Albedo.”
The blond could only nod in response as he watched the bartender walk off before vanishing back down the stairs.
Albedo’s chest tightened as the bartender walked away. His heart was hammering with a thump that almost hurt his ribs.
Being alive was…a concept by its right to Albedo. Feeling anything was even stranger. Much less feeling so much anxiety when he watched the bartender happily toiling away or even when he got close enough he could smell the vineyards of Dawn Winery or when he looked at his eyes, he could see the sparks of his vision glimmering behind them despite the severity of any situation, even in the heavy snows of Dragonspine.
He finally let out a breath when the bartender returned to his station. Charcoal in hand, he continued his sketch before his hands froze.
His body had a physical reaction to Diluc Ragnvindr’s presence. He made a mental note to do a series of experiments when he returned to his camp in Dragonspine the next day. Staring at the sketch, he wondered if he might be able to use the art to recreate the same reactions.
Though, as he looked down at the bartender, he knew that wouldn’t be the case.