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Xiao’s presence in Aether’s bedchambers is slowly becoming a frequent thing, it seems. Whether for the better or the worse, he isn’t so sure.
For the second evening in a row Xiao sits on the edge of Aether’s bed, patiently awaiting the other man’s arrival with his hands clasped in his lap. Earlier that morning, though Xiao had tried valiantly to pretend he had slept at least a little, the traveller hadn’t been fooled; he’d coerced the adeptus into staying another night with the promise of deep-cleaning his bedroom (only because Xiao had very obstinately demanded he do so).
Thus, Xiao perches delicately on the edge of Aether’s squeaky-clean bed in his squeaky-clean room, gearing himself up to prepare for Sleep’s embrace again. As he sits there waiting for Aether to return from his shower, he laments just how tightly he’s been wrapped around the traveller’s littlest finger.
Despite being situated the same way he was the previous night, tonight’s circumstance is vastly different. Yesterday, Xiao had waited for Aether in silence – today, Xiao can’t even hear himself think over the energetic little pixie buzzing around the room. She flits about with the speed of a crystalfly if it were to bathe in one of Lord Barbatos’ expensive boozes, giggling all the while: “Paimon can’t believe Aether got you to do this not only once, but twice!”
That’s the fifth time in the space of one minute that Xiao’s heard that sentiment fly excitedly from her mouth.
Not that he's counting.
(He is. He’s been counting for six minutes and thirty-seven seconds so he can tell Aether exactly when he started to lose his patience.)
Paimon floats circles around Xiao’s head as he offers her a small acquiescing nod to show he’s listening. “Paimon fell asleep reeeeally early yesterday since we spent so much time fighting hilichurls before meeting up with you, so Paimon didn’t get to talk to you that much – but Paimon’s wide awake today!”
Xiao contemplates asking why she’s feeling so taxed when it’s Aether who does all the hard work, but he elects to bite his tongue and nod at her again.
“Paimon knows the whole point of this is for you to sleep and rest and stuff, but Paimon’s sure Aether wouldn’t mind it if we stayed up a couple hours just to talk for a while! We’ve got a lot of adventures left to tell you about from Inazuma, after all!” She wiggles in the air. “We never told you about all the wonderful people! Like, there was Thoma, you already know Itto and Shinobu, but there’s Ayato and Gorou and—”
A grimace threatens to ruin Xiao’s carefully-crafted facade. Rex Lapis, I do not ask much of you…
“And then there was the foooooood!” The word elongates into a lengthy moan painted with desire, extraordinarily out-of-place given the subject matter. Paimon’s small body droops in the air as she’s seemingly assaulted by a number of tastes and scents all at once. “You don’t eat much, Xiao, but there was some stuff Paimon’s sure you’d enjoy – like, mochi! It’s kinda similar to almond tofu, like, with the texture, but they come in a load of different flavours and they’re super soft like clouds and—… are you even listening to Paimon, Xiao?!”
Xiao inhales deeply, hoping that maybe the extra oxygen will stave off his impending headache, and nods at the little pixie. His neck is beginning to ache from the repeated movement.
Paimon narrows her eyes at him. Xiao prepares a mental fortitude to deal with her incessant, high-pitched voice for however much longer it takes Aether to finish up. He silently begs the other man to hasten.
“You weren't listening to Paimon, were you?!” the pixie accuses, thrusting a tiny finger at him. “Hmph! No-one ever listens to Paimon! You know, you stupid yaksha, it was Paimon who got Aether to get rid of that spider you were scared of after you left this morning. If it wasn’t for Paimon, you wouldn’t be up here because you’d still be scared of a spider like you were last night!” She turns away from Xiao with an aggrieved huff, raising her chin with far too much haughtiness for something Xiao could punt out of the air with minimum effort. He might have been amused if he wasn’t already fighting the urge to asphyxiate her. “Paimon thinks you deserve an ugly nickname for ignoring her! Hmm… what about Scaredy Cat-sha, y’know, since you’re such a scaredy-cat when it comes to tiny little insects!”
Xiao’s eye twitches. So does his right hand.
“Spiders are arachnids,” he mumbles, staring holes through the closed bedroom door.
“Scaredy Cat-sha! Or Scared-eptus!” Paimon ignores him, a little smirk on her face to match her beady, mirthful eyes. “Which one do you prefer, O Mighty Adeptus of Jueyun Karst?”
Whatever internal danger sensor she’s supposed to have is, evidently, broken. Xiao’s fist has clenched so tightly his talons are at danger of tearing through his gloves.
Blessedly, silence falls with Xiao’s refusal to answer. The only thing stopping Xiao from doing anything to Aether’s little companion is the fact that she’s Aether’s little companion. The compulsion grows, though, as she begins to dance around him and make snide comments about his… aversion to spiders and the likes.
But then, finally – finally – the door to the bedroom swings open. “Paimon, leave him alone,” a light, calmer voice chides just as the pixie says something about how he wouldn’t get on with someone called Albedo, who apparently makes a custom out of eating spiders. Before Xiao can become too incredulous at the idea of eating arachnids, the owner of the voice wanders into the room and steals Xiao’s breath right from his lungs.
Aether stands in the doorway, a serene and fond smile curving his lips. The evening sunset shines through the window in the most perfect way, bathing the traveller in an ethereal light; his damp hair catches the sun as a towel shakes the lengthy strands, and Xiao’s eyes latch onto Aether’s arms as they flex with the effort. The dusky glow is a gift from Celestia, Xiao decides, watching the contractions of Aether’s muscles while he meticulously dries his hair. Then he throws the towel over his bare shoulder and Xiao makes the realisation that Aether isn’t wearing a shirt.
There’s a fearsome clash between his eyes and his morality, but Xiao wins it nonetheless at the cost of a light blush rising to his cheeks. He is an adeptus and he is a respectful one; such primitive, mortal behaviour is beneath him.
“Aether!” Paimon exclaims, zipping away from Xiao, unaware of the yaksha’s internal conflict. The traveller smiles benignly as he walks past Xiao's stiff form, depositing the towel on his dresser to grab a standing mirror from the corner of the room and pull it to the foot of the bed.
“Xiao doesn’t look happy,” Aether observes teasingly. He takes a seat on the bed in front of the newly placed mirror. Xiao swiftly moves to sit next to him, opening his mouth to launch into an explanation, but Paimon beats him to the punch.
“Does he ever look happy?” she complains, crossing her arms like a petulant child.
“I can look happy,” Xiao defends himself, turning to Aether and ignoring the infatuated grin on his face. “Paimon was just telling me about your endeavours in Inazuma.”
“Yeah, and you were ignoring Paimon!” Her shrill shout puts a wince on both of their faces, but the pixie pays them no mind. She plants herself in front of Aether’s face to capture his undivided attention. “He was ignoring Paimon! He kept nodding every so often to make it look like he was listening to Paimon, but he wasn’t! Paimon could see it in his eyes.”
Xiao, again, makes to save face, momentarily wondering why he’s so eager to keep Aether’s image of him clean, when the traveller cuts him off with a tinkling laugh.
“I’m sure he meant no harm, Paimon,” he attempts to placate her, reaching out a hand to pinch Xiao’s cheek. “Perhaps he’s just tired and wants to try to get to sleep earlier tonight. Last night was eventful, after all.”
His teasing tone doesn’t go unnoticed. With a grumble, Xiao bats Aether’s hand away from his face and scowls when all it does is elicit another laugh from the traveller.
“Why don’t you get started on dinner, Paimon?” Aether asks when he gets a hold of himself. “I still have to fix up my hair, and it would be rude to have a guest make something he won’t eat anyway.”
Paimon whines incomprehensibly. Xiao can’t help the smug wave he sends her when Aether firmly sets her on her new task. She glares at him – then raises her middle finger the second Aether glances away. Xiao gapes. By the time Aether looks back to the doorway to make sure she’s listened to him, the pixie has disappeared.
“I hope she wasn’t too annoying,” Aether says, sheepish. “I know she can be quite a handful.”
The middle finger flashes in his mind’s eye, but Xiao decides not to say anything about it purely because he’s not sure how believable it would sound – or if Aether knows the significance of the gesture. He shakes his head: “I was fine.”
Aether doesn’t press, instead turning to the mirror with a small smile and nod. He pulls his hair over his (still bare) shoulder and runs his lithe fingers through any tangles he finds. Something strange comes over Xiao, something foreign and powerful, and it makes him blurt into the quiet, “Do you need help with your hair?”
Shocked by his own nerve, Xiao performs the most convincing impression of an overturned pebble he can muster when Aether twists to look at him, disbelief written all over his face. He half expects to be brushed off, maybe sent to supervise Paimon, but some part of him, deep, deep down, wants Aether to say yes, to let him brush through his golden locks, to let him braid it with as much care as his murderous hands can gather.
“You know how to braid hair?” asks Aether, unable to mask his raw surprise. Which, Xiao can understand that – why would an adeptus, previously convinced he was no more than a weapon, know how to handle something as delicate and fine as hair?
Slowly, Xiao nods. “Menogias’ hair was a similar length to yours, if not longer. The others enjoyed helping him look after it, so I learnt how to as well. I… I learnt to cut and style hair so that I would have something to do with my hands when we were not… fighting.”
Aether’s lips part, the way they always do whenever Xiao talks about his past. “That’s so sweet,” he says gently, quietly. “Thank you for sharing that with me.” It’s the same thing he always says after Xiao shares a distant memory or story with him, in the same sincere, honest way. But, every time without fail it makes the same unnameable feeling stir up in his stomach – like tiny little insects fluttering around.
A pat on the bed pulls Xiao out of his thoughts, and the feeling distinguishes ever so slightly. Aether sits on the floor with his back pressed to the bed, leaving one hand on the edge of the bed and lightly tapping his fingers against the duvet. “Sit here,” he offers, “it’ll be easier and more comfortable to braid my hair this way.”
Xiao goes easily, moving over to the space Aether indicated. He pulls his legs to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. “Are you sure you are comfortable on the floor?”
The traveller hums contentedly. “Put your feet down; you’ll end up with a back-ache.”
Obediently, Xiao drops his legs on either side of Aether. He reaches down, pulling his light hair from his (bare) shoulders, and is about to move the mass of golden strands up into his own lap when two warm palms grasp his feet and he literally has to freeze lest he freaks out.
The yaksha glances at Aether through the mirror, desperately fending off the colouring of his cheeks, but he’s completely relaxed – head tilted back, eyes closed, and entirely unaware of the effect his simple touch is having on Xiao. He tries not to tense up as Aether’s hands continue to move, as hands typically do. The traveller pulls Xiao’s feet in front of him, crossing them at the ankles so that the yaksha’s legs are wrapped around his chest, then reaches up to pet his calves. He squeezes softly and repeats his motions, as if he were stroking a cat.
A whimper so, so nearly leaks from Xiao’s throat.
Turning a blind eye to both the red sheen on his face and the pounding of his heart, Xiao puts his entire weight into refocusing on Aether’s hair. With trembling hands, he sections the traveller’s hair into three and dutifully crosses them over each other, whispering a quiet apology every time he accidentally pulls too hard or snags a strand of hair too roughly – events that become increasingly more frequent the further into the braid Xiao gets because, for every apology, he’s rewarded with a kind pat on one of his thighs.
By the time Xiao ties the braid off, Aether is half-asleep. He lets Aether’s hair fall back down his (barebarebareSTOPLOOKING) shoulders, and when the traveller doesn’t so much as stir, he nudges one of his heels into Aether’s (so very bare) stomach, watching him lift sit up to tiredly inspect his hair.
“It’s so neat,” he whispers, joyous. The back of his head knocks against Xiao’s thighs when he tilts his head backwards to look up at the adeptus with sparkling eyes. “Thank you. I should let you do my hair more often.”
Xiao, taken by the sight of Aether looking up at him with that dazzling smile, can generate nothing more than a wavering, “Mmhmm.” The two bask in the remnants of the orangey-pink evening, simply gazing at each other for a couple more moments. If he could, Xiao thinks he would look at Aether all day; such beauty deserves to be admired under a constant eye. But, unfortunately, duty calls. And so does a little flying pixie that has approximately zero tact.
“Food’s ready!” Paimon’s piercing voice yells from down the hallway, accompanied by the crashing of various utensils and bowls. Aether, knocked out of their shared reverie, shakes his head as he stands. On his way to the door, he pulls a loose shirt from his dresser and slips it over his head before opening the door for Paimon. Xiao laments the loss.
A number of plates and forks drop onto the bed behind Xiao and bounce haphazardly. Paimon heaves a great puff of air, clapping her hands together as she eyes the abundance of food, looking very pleased with herself.
“If I had known you were planning on eating this much, I would’ve come to help you,” Aether comments, eyeing the precariously-placed chicken tofu pudding on his duvet.
Paimon waves a hand, brushing him off. “Eh, it was no trouble! All this stuff’s gotta be eaten at some point, right?”
Aether shares a look with Xiao. Paimon’s prime excuse: eat-by dates. No matter how fresh a meal is, Paimon will devour the entire plate under the pretense that it’ll be inedible at some point and will go to waste, so why not finish it now? Aether has long since learnt that it’s just an excuse to satiate her bottomless pit of a stomach, and so has learnt to let Paimon do Paimon. It doesn’t mean he can’t be peeved by the sheer amount of food they go through on a daily basis, though.
Paimon pays the two no mind, practically foaming at the mouth as she waits for Aether to settle so they can dig in. There’s a feral grin on her face that makes her appear every bit the ravenous animal she behaves like.
“Xiao, are you hungry at all?” asks Aether as he presses himself to the headboard, leaving Paimon space to drop down next to him. “I’m not sure even Paimon can polish all these plates off…”
“Adepti have no need for food,” Xiao declines. “Don’t waste it on me; I'll be fine.”
Aether frowns. “If you’re sure,” he acquiesces. “Would you like a book, or something? To occupy you while we eat?”
“If you don’t mind, I think I might try to get to sleep earlier tonight.”
The way Aether lights up at his words and practically vibrates in place should be funny, but for some reason it makes Xiao’s stomach do a weird little flip that he chooses not to acknowledge.
“Of course that’s okay!” Aether tells him fervidly. “You can sleep at any time you want. It just means we have to be quiet.” He levels Paimon with a withering glower, but the pixie doesn’t notice – she’s too hyper-focused on a steaming plate of chicken towards the edge of the bed.
The ends of Xiao’s mouth quirk up a little at the display, and he dodges a number of bowls to lay on Aether’s other side, shuffling his feet under the covers carefully. He doesn’t notice the way Aether watches him, eyes alight with something like love.
As Xiao situates himself, Aether snaps back to Paimon. “Did you hear me?” he grits through clenched teeth. “We need to be quiet.”
“Uh-huh,” Paimon hurriedly vocalises, evidently not having listened to anything other than the calling of the food. With a heavy sigh, Aether delicately lifts a bowl of soup from the array of dishes, picking up a spoon as he goes. Non-verbal permission obtained, Paimon just about erupts to leech as many dishes as she can hold, hoarding them into her space. She ignores Aether’s pointed, heavy breath at the sound of clashing china.
The lack of conversation makes it easy for Xiao to relax, lulled by the background noise of clinking cutlery and the occasional aggressively-whispered “Shut up!” from Aether. His eyes flutter closed, and he hears Aether double down his efforts with Paimon as they do. The aroma of the food is comforting – mixed with the distinct scent of Aether, it makes a cosy atmosphere Xiao can only describe as homely. His mind falls to rest along with his sore limbs, engulfed in the soft solace of Aether’s bed and surrounded by people he’s reluctantly come to care for.
But, as is usual when in the general vicinity of Paimon, the quietude doesn’t last long. A particularly loud lip-smack jolts him back to awareness, eyes opening to slits to find the source.
Not even the littlest bit surprisingly, he traces the sound back to Paimon; she’s busy demolishing a platter of what look like egg rolls. Xiao knows how she gets around her food and subsequently knows that Aether has the basic table manners Paimon lacks, so he really shouldn’t have bothered waking himself up. He writes it down as a one-off and goes back to trying to rest.
It was not a one-off.
Paimon is the loudest eater alive at the most inconvenient of moments.
Every time Xiao thinks he’s about to finally drop off, Paimon wakes him up in one way or another. Be it a lip-smack, dropping a fork, sucking sauce off her fingers, even scalding herself with a soup, she finds a new way every time.
Xiao’s contract stipulates that he must not harm non-demons. Though it is now void, he intends to continue living by it.
He can make an exception for Paimon.
His body has since returned to its tense state due to the prolonged suspension of his irritation. He knows Paimon can’t help it (probably) and that she doesn’t mean to annoy him (debatable), but he’s becoming agitated nonetheless.
The cycle goes around again. Xiao has to seriously restrain himself when Paimon audibly licks gravy from her fingers. Finally, Aether either notices Xiao’s discomfort or becomes fed up with her on his own, because he exhales testily and puts whatever food he’s enjoying down.
“Paimon,” Aether says, voice strained, “I need you to shut up.”
“Wha’?” she grumbles grouchily around a mouthful of chicken. “‘m jus’ ea’in’.”
“I’m going to eat you if you don’t shut your mouth.”
Paimon squeaks, certainly hearing the genuinity in Aether’s tone, and puts over-the-top effort into keeping quiet. The animosity in Aether’s tone alerts even Xiao, who sits up slowly to observe. Aether’s attention is immediately on him the minute he moves, watching like a hawk as the adeptus turns to make hesitant eye-contact. Honey yellow meets amber orange, and the silence stretches as Aether simply smiles.
“Are you… all right?” Xiao asks cautiously. The raspiness of his voice is a bit startling.
“Fine,” Aether assures, patting Xiao’s arm. “Were you asleep? Did Paimon wake you up?”
“Not quite. The arms of Sleep are open wider than usual, however.”
“That’s good.” Aether’s tone returns to its normal state, his face softening with it. A loud clang disrupts the moment, though, and Xiao just about catches the twitch of Aether’s eyebrow before he sends Paimon a dirty look.
The pixie freezes under his scrutiny. “Oops…”
Aether’s eyes narrow. “We’ve had enough to eat,” he decides after a moment of consideration, then claps his hands together with fake cheer. “Time for bed!”
“But Paimon wants to keep eating!” Breaking into what looks like a choreographed tantrum, Paimon throws her face into the duvet and taps repeated punches against Aether’s thigh.
The traveller ignores her, standing from the bed and piling up plates and bowls alike. “Look at how dark it’s gotten! Definitely time to turn in.”
“It’s not even that dark,” Paimon huffs, muffled by bunched-up fabric. Her hands fall to her sides limply.
“Would you like some help, Aether?” Xiao asks, moving the covers to the side and swinging his legs over the bed.
Aether grins wryly. “If you don’t mind. Paimon eats more than a pregnant Geovishap.”
“Paimon does not! And how do you know how much a pregnant Geovishap eats?!”
The light banter puts a half-smile on Xiao’s face. He stands, picking up as many stray bowls and forks as he can and employs his anemo to lift whatever remains. Aether watches them float past him sulkily, balancing multiple plates in his arms.
“Keep forgetting you can do that,” he mutters, kicking the bedroom door open. Some soup bowls float through the open doorway, accompanied by stray spoons and chopsticks.
“Maybe if you had stayed aligned with anemo, you would still be able to do the same,” Xiao responds with an air of aloofness. He brushes quietly past Aether and out the door.
Surprised the prideful adeptus had forsaken his dignity to snipe at him, Aether follows him hastily to nudge his hip with his own. “I’ll have you know, I can still use anemo.”
“Seems like you could do with some practise.”
“I don’t need to practise anemo, I had it under my belt for ages before I picked up geo,” Aether grouches, turning his chin up. “I need to work on my control of the other elements. That’s why I’m aligned with electro, to get stronger – which is what you always say, right? That you can never be too strong, strive to get stronger, or whatever?”
After placing the dirtied cutlery in the kitchen sink, Xiao gives the traveller a critical once-over. He eyes the earring hanging from his lobe, once a brilliant ochre in colour and now a striking amethyst. “Hmm.”
“What does that mean?!”
“Hmm.”
Aether breathes a laugh, placing his own dishes and cutlery in the sink before turning to make his way back upstairs.
Xiao raises an eyebrow. “Since you’re all about getting stronger, one would’ve thought you’d retrieved the power of hydro by now to clean your dishes.”
“I can’t win with you!” Aether cries, throwing his hands in the air and spinning on his heel to stare at Xiao incredulously. “I haven’t even been to Fontaine yet!”
“Good,” is all Xiao says, walking past Aether’s bristled stance with palpable satisfaction.
Ignoring Aether’s grumbles, and the grin playing at his lips, Xiao saunters his way back to Aether’s bedroom and is pleased to find no trace of Paimon. The pixie must have returned to the bedroom she said she fell asleep in the previous night — see, Xiao was paying attention to what she was yapping about.
Feeling more comfortable with invading Aether’s room (after all he’s been subjected to in here), Xiao easily slips back under the covers to lean against the headboard. Aether moves to join him after clicking the door shut and dimming the lights. The pale light of the moon and stars fail to recreate the previous night’s view, only just beginning to ease into their celestial beauty.
“I may take you up on your book offer,” Xiao says once they are both comfortable, looking at his hands folded on top of the covers. “My earlier lethargy is not as prominent anymore.”
“That’s okay,” Aether reassures. He leans over to pull a book from his bedside drawer and hands it to Xiao. The title reads The Legend of Vennessa. “This one’s a songbook from Mondstadt. Tell me if you finish it, or if it gets boring or repetitive after a while, and I’ll find you another one.”
“A songbook?” Xiao tosses the book between his hands, testing its weight. It’s incredibly light compared to some of the books he’s read before.
Aether huffs. “A certain somebody told me that you played a Dihua flute back in the day. Don’t act like you’re not musically inclined.”
“Something repetitive should do fine,” Xiao says, flippant.
Pleased, Aether bobs his head and manoeuvres to lay beneath the covers facing Xiao. As he gets himself comfortable, Xiao cracks the book open, revelling in the fresh smell of new, unturned pages – Aether must have picked the book up only recently, or perhaps he had simply never regarded it with enough interest to read it. Xiao pays it no more thought, instead immersing himself in the story of the young slave girl who overthrew her origins.
When he next looks up from the small print, the abode is significantly darker and Aether has long since fallen asleep beside him. The mansion is enveloped in tranquillity, the only sound permeating the quiet air being Aether’s breathing. Registering the lateness, Xiao’s eyes suddenly feel much heavier than they did moments ago. Maybe if he knocks out now, Aether will wake up before him and see that he slept and they’ll be able to spend more time together doing things other than sleeping once Aether is happy he’s resting amply.
His train of thought comes to a sudden screeching stop, and he halts in his ministrations of leaning over Aether to put the book back. Since when did he want to spend time with Aether doing other things? Since when did he want to do other things full stop?
The adeptus considers the traveller asleep below him, looking down so that the longest strands of his hair just barely tickle Aether’s cheeks. He supposes spending more time with the illusive traveller isn’t something he’d be against – Aether is a free, kind spirit, and Xiao has already promised he’d be there should Aether call his name, so would it be any different to spend time with each other outside of that? That’s what they’re doing right now, isn’t it? Aether is good company, and has always been concerned about Xiao’s well-being despite how much the adeptus would protest his care. In fact, aside from Zhongli and maybe Ganyu, Aether is the only person who Xiao lets get away with doing things like this.
… Why?
How has Aether wormed his way into Xiao’s life like this? The traveller’s just looking for his sister, yet he’s gotten involved in Xiao’s affairs more than anyone has in hundreds of years. How has he managed it? Why has Xiao let him do this, when he’s usually so insistent about hurting people and the effects of his karma on others? Somehow, this strong, beautiful figure beneath him has snuck his way past the walls Xiao built around his heart and made himself at home behind them.
Aether shifts and Xiao quickly rights himself, hastily placing the book back and sliding below the covers again. He shakes his head to himself – mortal behaviours and emotions are things he will never understand, so he shouldn’t try too hard to comprehend them. He chalks it up to his sleep-addled mind and shuts his eyes a little too forcefully.
With his mind no longer running in circles, Xiao finds it much easier to let his mind drift away. The unbroken silence paired with the duvet’s fluffiness appeases the deepest pains in his body and coaxes his brain to silence. As he sinks into the relief, Xiao thinks Sleep may truly be waiting for him just around the corner. No more disturbances, right?
Wrong. Xiao should learn to quit while he’s ahead.
At the precise second he comes to his quiet conclusion, a not-so-quiet crash echoes from the hallway, followed by a number of distressed whines. Out of a reflex taught by millions of arduous battles, Xiao calls his polearm to his open palm without a second thought – he’s barrelling through the bedroom door before his mind can catch up to remind him that he’s in the safety of Aether’s tea pot.
It’s no surprise that he doesn’t find any hilichurls, any abyss mages, any karma-infested dragons or gods yearning for revenge in the hallway.
No, he finds Paimon.
The pixie sits miserably in the middle of a heap of broken glass, surrounded by an assortment of liquids, foods, and cutlery Xiao recognises from their dinner. The area in front of presumably Paimon’s bedroom door looks to be the equivalent of a battlefield’s no-man’s-land; specks of food dot the wall, along with multi-coloured splatters of drinks that Xiao knows will be a pain to remove. Gravies and soups mingle together and seep through the cracks in the floorboards, and if Xiao squints he can see countless glistening flecks hidden among the mess which he sincerely hopes are not hundreds of little spider eyes.
Polearm dematerialising, Xiao rubs his hands over his face tiredly. How hadn’t he heard her door open the first time? How hadn’t he heard her rummaging around the kitchen or struggling with the weight of an overabundance of food?
“Oh…” Aether’s gravelly voice bemoans from behind him but, just like last night, Xiao can’t find it in him to be flustered by the tone because he actually doesn’t think he’s ever heard a more forlorn sound in his life.When he turns to look at the traveller, he’s overcome with the terrible urge to comfort the man because he just looks so distraught and Xiao wants to wipe that look off his face forever and make sure nothing in Teyvat ever makes him look that way again.
… Okay.
“Paimon…” Aether groans, hands hanging limply at his sides as he comes to stand next to Xiao. The pixie looks up at them in a similar way Xiao believes a child would look at their parents when they’ve been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Metaphorically-speaking, that does seem to be exactly what’s happened. “What… were you doing?”
“Paimon was still hungry…” Paimon whispers, legs stretched out in front of her. One of her feet is drenched in some electric blue drink. Xiao grimaces.
“I know you were still hungry,” whines Aether, combing his hands through his hair roughly, “but why?”
Paimon glances away from him, unnerved. “... P-Paimon just told you why…”
Aether releases a very tetchy, aggravated sigh, and his hands clench into fists as he surveys the damage.
“I’ll help you clean up,” Xiao says into the tense quiet that has fallen. “It’ll be done quicker with the two of us.”
“Two?” Aether glances at Xiao with wild eyes before setting them back on Paimon, who whimpers and lowers her head. “Oh, no no no no no, sweetheart. There’ll be three of us doing the cleaning because the one who is responsible here has to take the blame and clean up her mess.”
It’s probably weird that Xiao’s heart skips a beat at the endearment when, so far, he’s only ever heard it in that crazed tone, but he shrugs it off.
Paimon whines at the verbal assault but is clever enough not to argue. She flies a few metres forward to grab a stray bowl.
“No,” Aether snaps, pointing at her threateningly. The only thing that saves the bowl from exploding into fragments is the one cell retaining Paimon’s survival instincts. “You are going to go to the kitchen and get some wet towels and rags, and some stain remover, and you’re going to get the stains out of the walls. Xiao and I will deal with the floor and whatever cutlery we have left. I just— you didn’t even have to take the food back to your room, you could have just eaten it in the dining room! But you decided to act a fool, so I’m going to treat you like one.”
As soon as Aether stops his miniature tirade, Paimon disappears like the wind, yelling a fear-inspired “Paimon’s sorryyyyyy!” on her way.
With Paimon gone, they descend into a hush with only Aether’s deep, calming breaths to be heard.
“Perhaps,” Xiao starts uncertainly, “you might want to be more lenient with her. It was an accident, after all.”
He refuses to be intimidated by the feral smile Aether aims at him.
“The pixie shouldn’t have been out of bed, let alone pilfering food while we were trying to sleep undisturbed, like normal people,” Aether seethes.
So, Xiao’s a little intimidated. That’s good, because the terror factor might be the only thing stopping him from alerting Aether that they are possibly the least normal people on Teyvat. Aether probably wouldn’t appreciate being reminded.
“But—” The anger dissipates, if only slightly, “—you’re right. I’ll apologise for losing my temper tomorrow, once we’ve gotten this mess sorted.”
Xiao nods, offering the traveller a very small smile which alone seems to calm the other down, and they both get to work.
Once Aether has collected the largest broken shards, Xiao lifts a hand to command the wind to remove what solids remain on the floor. They rise high above their heads, barely scraping the ceiling and revealing the disastrous stain that festers beneath.
“You will want the power of hydro for that,” Xiao mumbles.
The comment startles a laugh out of Aether, and Xiao’s smile grows just a little bit bigger at the sound. Even if he has been reduced to the mundane task of cleaning up after a tiny little pixie, at least he gets to spend more time with Aether awake.
… What a strange thought. He should get some sleep.