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The rapid thudding of torrential downpour echoes throughout Dawn Winery. Kaeya drags an absent hand through the condensation that clings to one of the grand front windows. He watches as a flurry of shrivelled leaves is swept up by a particularly pronounced gust of wind before being unceremoniously dumped into a newly formed mud puddle. Even inside, the smell of damp earth permeates the air.
Had he left earlier when he was intending to, he could’ve very well made it back to Mondstat before the storm picked up once again. Alas, Adelinde had managed to wheedle him into staying for an evening meal - not for the first time either. Kaeya chuckles to himself, flicking a coin up into the air. That woman certainly has a way with words when she wants to. He cannot help but admire her efforts.
Were he in Mondstat right now, Kaeya would be wrapping up his paperwork for the day and keenly anticipating his nightly death afternoon at the tavern. Perhaps keeping an eye out for that Liyuean mercenary he’d been meaning to catch with their guard lowered. As it stands, he now finds himself nursing a glass of dandelion wine in one of the winery’s plush chairs, Adelinde’s distant chatter but a mere hum amidst the sounds of the harsh storm.
The sky grows darker, and his reflection in the window where the chandelier’s warm glow meets it becomes more apparent. He exhales slowly, tipping his head into his hand. Diluc would usually be hovering about on this floor at the very least, but Kaeya hasn’t caught a glimpse of him at all this evening. He can’t say that he isn’t the slightest bit disappointed. If nothing else, his ever-stoic brother provides him with a sure means of entertainment in trying times such as these.
“Master Kaeya?”
Kaeya hums, straightening slightly in his seat. “Yes? Is something the matter?”
“No, no, of course not,” Adeline assures, “I was just wondering if you might like to visit Diluc in his quarters and inform him that dinner will be ready soon.”
Kaeya perks up at that, a smug smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Why of course! We must give him fair warning after all. I’m sure he has much business to attend to.”
“He certainly does,” Adelinde agrees, “It seems that he’s found himself busier than usual as of late. I’m sure he’d appreciate your stay this evening.”
At that, Kaeya simply can’t refrain from giving an airy laugh. “Oh, we’ll see about that. His reception toward me is notoriously frosty. A real shame, if you ask me.” He stands from his chair, stretching his arms out languidly. “Don’t worry, I’ll ensure he takes a break for this meal. Family time is of the utmost importance, after all.”
His tone is all lilting sarcasm, but Adelinde nods seriously. “It certainly is, Master Kaeya.”
With that, she heads toward the kitchen once more, and Kaeya cannot contain another small smile at the prospect of some entertainment, finally. This storm seems to have washed his entire day away, hours dragging on ceaselessly with the futile hope that conditions will finally clear up.
Perhaps Barbatos is simply having a bad day.
Whatever the case, Kaeya doesn’t much like to be left alone with his own thoughts where he can help it, lest they wander to places he’d rather avoid, so he takes the distraction gladly.
He brings his half-full wine glass with him, sipping casually as he treks up the stairs to the second floor. Truth be told, he can’t remember the last time he had visited Diluc’s quarters. It feels somewhat like a novelty at this point.
The rain is a much greater cacophony now that he’s closer to the roof, roaming the halls. Once he reaches Diluc’s door he knocks three times, as any polite man would. To his surprise, he doesn’t receive a response right away. As far as Kaeya is concerned, Diluc’s sharp senses should’ve picked up on his approach when he first began to ascend the stairs. Perhaps the rain had managed to dull his footsteps.
“Come in,” comes the belated call, just a tad quiet.
Kaeya turns the door handle and enters, remaining by the entryway. Diluc’s chair turns, and his eyes widen slightly once they catch sight of him.
“Kaeya,” he utters.
For one split instant, there’s an openness to his expression that Kaeya can’t recall seeing in recent years, but he closes down again just as quickly, arms folded and expression set in stone.
“I wasn’t aware you were visiting. Are you here on official business?”
Kaeya merely chuckles. “Well. If by official business you mean getting shut in by a thunderstorm and being swayed by Adelinde to remain for dinner, then sure. I’m here on official business.”
Diluc sighs, turning his chair back toward his desk. “She seems to have a habit of doing that.“ He draws his curtains aside to reveal a small window, rain splattering against it. “By the looks of things, I suspect that this storm won’t quell come nightfall.”
“In that case, I suppose I’ll be gearing up for a slippery trek back to Mondstat. I do have business to attend to, after all.”
“An overnight trek in the rain? Not the wisest idea by any measure.”
“My, my, Master Diluc. Is that long-lost brotherly concern I detect? I can assure you that I have made far more treacherous journeys in my time as a knight.”
Diluc huffs, drawing his curtains shut once more. “Suit yourself. It’s hardly my concern what you do or don’t do, especially seeing as I have business to attend to. Adelinde may think differently on the matter, is all.”
Kaeya hums. “Now that I think about it, you may be right. Though, I really don’t have any intention of remaining the night, regardless of any insistence. I am simply here to share a nice meal, after all — I’d hate to overstay my welcome.”
“I doubt she would see it that way.”
Kaeya has half the mind to respond, “and you? how would you see it?” just to watch any semblance of conflicted emotion flicker over Diluc’s face, but he has other, more pressing matters at the forefront of his mind. There are a few things wrong here; firstly, Diluc hadn’t sensed that someone was approaching his room, nor had he surmised it was Kaeya despite the distinct knock he’d used. At first glance, these things could be explained away by fatigue or distraction, but Kaeya knows better.
Secondly, there was Diluc’s brief moment of openness that hadn’t escaped his attention; there was an earnestness there that is difficult to overlook, particularly from his stone-faced brother.
Thirdly — well. Kaeya’s gaze wanders the papers strewn across Diluc’s desk, the messy ink prints staining a couple of them. Diluc doesn’t exactly like his desk to be in disarray, but that isn’t what catches Kaeya’s eye.
“I must say, that is certainly a peculiar form of paperwork you have there, Master Diluc,” he notes airily.
Diluc shoulders draw up for one tense moment. He leans over his desk as he hastily gathers up his loose papers, stacking them atop one another.
“A drawing from an acquaintance,” Diluc explains stiffly, “was that all you needed, Kaeya?”
And oh, is that an interesting reaction indeed. Kaeya feels distinctly enlivened now.
“An acquaintance, hm? Well, perhaps you can tell this acquaintance of yours that I quite enjoy their rendition of an owl. Striking, indeed.”
Diluc leans his elbows on the desk and lowers his head, shielding the papers from view. “If you don’t have anything else to inform me of, I suggest you take your leave now.”
Kaeya sighs inwardly. “Very well. Adelinde wished for me to inform you that dinner should be finished in a matter of time. Your presence downstairs will be expected soon.”
“Duly noted. I will make my way down there shortly. Thank you, Kaeya.”
Kaeya nods. “But of course. I won’t impede on your…important business any longer.”
He gently shuts the door behind him on his way out, mind reeling as the possibilities flit before it. On his way downstairs, fragments of memory from a time long gone weave themselves together to form a tentative conclusion.
Were it virtually anyone else visiting Diluc this evening, they wouldn’t have noticed a thing — perhaps a bit of fatigue, at best. For all that Kaeya deals in secrets, he still struggles to probe far beyond Diluc’s carefully neutral facade at the best of times. Despite this, he did grow up with the man, which lends him a certain insight that others simply do not have.
Kaeya struggles to think of a name for it, even now. All he knows is that being the youngest Calvary Captain the knights had ever seen brought with it a certain level of stress that he often refused to show, until…well.
Very rarely, Diluc would act…childish.
Of course, this was to be expected. Diluc was all bright exuberance and beaming smiles when he was younger. But there was something noticeably different about the way he would mumble to himself, uncoordinated crayon strokes filling the pages of his secret sketchbook. There was an earnest childishness to his wide-eyed gaze that Kaeya had only ever witnessed in those moments.
They never truly discussed it, and Kaeya had the general impression that only he was ever privy to those moments, if just by being in the general vicinity and nothing more. It was merely something that just...happened. Usually, Diluc would take his frustrations out on the battered training dummies that filled the Knights of Favonious training grounds, and sometimes — well, rarely, he would curl up with a stuffed toy when no one was else home and babble childishly to himself.
And therein lies the puzzle piece that Kaeya had been missing. He’s not sure what exactly it is — it seemed like some form of…mental regression, perhaps? Whatever the case, Kaeya hadn’t given it much thought over the past several years, so its possible re-emergence now is very interesting indeed.
Kaeya is careful not to betray the fact that he’s observing Diluc throughout their dinner. The signs of distractability are subtle, but they shine through in quickly averted gazes, brief bouts of fidgeting and slightly delayed responses.
To be frank, Kaeya’s not entirely sure what it is exactly that leads him to visit Diluc in his quarters sometime after dinner. He’d prefer not to think about it extensively lest he’s forced to dig up a tangled mess of emotions that he’s not quite ready to parse out just yet. He settles on curiosity. Perhaps he merely wants confirmation regarding an interesting secret, or prized intel on the mighty Darknight Hero.
His mind flits to that messy sketch of an owl from earlier, so obviously childish, and something inexplicable tightens in his chest.
Okay. Maybe not just curiosity. But can you possibly blame him?
Kaeya telegraphs his movements carefully on his way upstairs, approaching Diluc’s door with a hesitancy that surprises even him. He knocks three times, just like before. Once again, the muffled response is delayed, except this time it’s also tinged with surprise.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Kaeya,” he answers, “my sincerest apologies for the disruption - may I come in?”
Silence falls for a few halting moments. He hears shuffling from within the room, and he’s almost convinced that he won’t receive a reply at all when Diluc’s voice filters through, softer than before.
“Okay.”
Kaeya’s eyebrows raise. That is certainly not what he’d been expecting. A curt “very well” at best.
Suspicions increasingly confirmed, Kaeya opens the door, allowing warm light from the hall to flood inside. Diluc sits atop his bed in a set of pyjamas with his hair out of its usual ponytail, looking anywhere but Kaeya, and suddenly it’s like that very first instance all over again. The distinct sense of deja vu that washes over him is almost dizzying.
He glances over at the desk, which seems to have been vacated in a hurry. The curtains are still drawn tightly shut, only a sliver of pale moonlight filtering through.
“Ah. I see you’re still working on that important paperwork,” he notes lightly, gaze flicking to the owl drawing once more.
“Is there something that brings you to my quarters at this hour, Kaeya?” comes the wary response, “if you don’t wish to make the trek back to Mondstat tonight you are more than welcome to stay in one of the guest bedrooms.”
To Diluc’s credit, his tone is relatively steady, but there’s visible tension wound through his shoulders and his face, conflict simmering beneath the surface of his hastily schooled expression. It almost looks as though he’s fighting with himself, taking purposefully even breaths and maintaining an upright position on the bed.
“Your hospitality is appreciated as always, Master Diluc,” Kaeya says, feigning casualness, “perhaps I’m merely taking a moment to check in on my dear brother, hm? Would that be so unwelcome?”
Diluc huffs, gaze flitting toward his desk. “If there’s something you wish to discuss, I’d advise you to be upfront about it. I still have…” he trails off momentarily, face flushing slightly, “I still have things I need to get done tonight, and I’m sure you’d rather be well-rested for your trek tomorrow morning.”
“But of course. I can only imagine there must be pressing business at this time of year with the Windblume festival fast approaching.” He shoots a pointed look toward the myriad of ink-smudged paper on Diluc’s desk. Diluc looks away again, shaking his head.
“Like I said. An acquaintance.”
“Might that acquaintance be Klee by any chance?”
“I—“ Diluc abruptly cuts himself off, shaking his head. He lets out a small sigh.
Sensing that teasing jabs will only cause Diluc to retreat further into himself, Kaeya decides on a softer approach, wandering over to the desk. He can sense wary eyes following his movements. Diluc still hasn’t kicked him out, which he decides to take as a positive sign.
“I did mean what I said regarding this drawing. I think it’s quite striking. Not dissimilar to the ones from your old sketchbook, hm?”
Silence blankets the room for a stifling moment.
“I don’t know what you’re trying to insinuate here, Kaeya, but I—“
“Oh, nothing negative, I assure you. But would it be so wrong to note the similarities? You always were particularly fond of owls, if I recall. Perhaps you even still have that owl stuffed toy you used to favour.”
Diluc’s face flushes again, but he doesn’t say anything. The conflict lining his expression is all the more apparent now. Kaeya cannot help but soften another degree or two. However fascinating this series of events may be, he’d much rather that Diluc didn’t actually feel ashamed.
“Not that there would be anything wrong if you still had it, of course. Most people in Mondstat choose to drink their troubles away at the taverns — I hardly see why this should be any different. If anything, I find myself strangely comforted by the fact that you seem to have something to lean on in this way.“
The words have their intended effect — Diluc blinks, unfolding his arms. His demeanour opens up just the slightest bit.
“I…still don’t know what you’re referring to.”
His voice is noticeably softer now.
Kaeya takes a seat at the desk. “Ah, but of course. On an unrelated note, then, I’ve been meaning to hone my drawing skills, perhaps you might be able to give me a pointer or two? I do find owls to be quite beautiful creatures, after all.”
For a handful of moments, Kaeya is convinced that he’ll finally be rebuffed. Something is still clearly warring on Diluc’s expression, and he seems to be caught between remaining upright on the bed and curling inwards. His eyebrows knit together, forming a slight crease, before his expression relaxes, a seemingly endless cycle. Eventually, he tucks his hair behind his ear with a small huff.
“There are—“ he hesitates, but he presses on quickly, “there are other birds too.”
Kaeya exhales slowly, slightly in awe.
Is Diluc truly trusting him with this right now?
He responds swiftly, not leaving any room for doubt. “Oh? There are other birds? You wouldn’t mind showing me, would you?”
His tone has naturally adopted a certain softness, ticking upward in pitch toward the ends of his sentences just like it does when he talks to Klee. Diluc’s expression isn’t cloudy anymore — it’s open, warm and clear like Kaeya hasn’t seen it in years. It’s almost startling to be confronted with such a vulnerable display. Kaeya can’t help but wonder if Diluc had felt on the verge of this mindset the entire evening.
Diluc stands up from his bed and approaches his wardrobe. Kaeya hears him rummaging around for a handful of moments before emerging with a few bound sketchbooks in his grasp. There’s really only one chair in the room, so Kaeya grabs the drawing and stands up from the desk.
“How about we look at these on the bed, hm? Maybe your stuffed owl friend can join us.”
Diluc doesn’t respond verbally, but he shuffles back over toward his wardrobe. He moves several carefully placed blankets and folders out of the way to reveal his stuffed tawny owl, large black button eyes peering up at him. Kaeya catches the faintest of smiles on his face as he shuts his wardrobe doors and approaches the bed, placing down his sketchbooks on the duvet cover.
As he sits down and brings his legs up on the bed, clutching his owl close to his chest, Kaeya knows that he must be well and truly immersed in the child-like headspace he’s in. Close to all of the visible tension has bled from his shoulders, leaving his posture relaxed and open. He doesn’t know the exact specifics of this headspace, what brings it on or how tenuous it is, but he knows intuitively — has always known — that it would be wise to tread carefully.
Kaeya takes the liberty of opening one of the sketchbooks across both of their laps, doing it slowly so that Diluc has time to protest. When he simply leans in, eyes skimming the pages, Kaeya takes it as a sign to start doing so as well.
“Could you tell me about some of them?” he asks, “though birds are lovely creatures, I can’t say I know a whole lot about them.”
Diluc nods, still clinging tight to his owl with one arm as he points at the currently open page. “It’s…it’s a falcon. I’ve got a few of them. They dive for prey — they’re good hunters. Then, over here, I’ve got…I’ve got some birds from Sumeru, like the dusk bird. They can carry messages.”
He flicks over a few pages, seemingly knowing the exact one he’s looking for. Kaeya hums, tracing gentle fingers across the rough pencil sketches.
“This dusk bird would look nice with some colour, hm?”
Diluc nods, hastily averting his gaze. “Have…have some colours…in.” He seems to struggle for a moment, eyebrows furrowing. “Um. there,” he says, pointing to the wardrobe. He presses his chin and nose into his stuffed owl, grip on it tightening a little.
“Ah, I see.”
Though prose-like eloquence has always been Diluc’s forte, Kaeya recalls that his speech generally became more stilted when he was in this mindset.
Diluc goes to stand up, presumably to get the colours, but Kaeya stops him with a gentle hand around his wrist.
“Here, why don’t I grab them while you decide which birds you’d like to colour?”
Diluc hesitates for a moment before looking away with a small nod, pressing in closer to his owl as he pulls the sketchbook over onto his lap.
As Kaeya retrieves the colours — which, now that he thinks about it, he’s not entirely sure what he’s looking for here, pencils perhaps? Crayons? — he can’t help but note that there are some…differences, in this younger version of Diluc. He’s not shy per se, more reserved than anything else, but Kaeya recalls a vibrant, more bubbly sort of childishness in the few moments he’d witnessed.
Perhaps that is to be expected. A lot of things have changed, after all.
“Ah, are these the ones you meant?” Kaeya asks, holding up a pack of crayons and a smaller knitted pouch with a few coloured pencils.
Diluc hums an affirmative, and Kaeya gently closes the wardrobe before making his way back over to the bed. He casts one sweeping glance over the pristine duvet covers, wincing slightly at the thought of all those crayons being tipped out on top of it. His gaze flits about the room for a moment as he taps his chin.
“Hm. Now, I know I moved us to the bed earlier, but I’m starting to think that the desk may be a better choice after all. Perhaps I should grab another chair, hm?”
Diluc looks between the desk and bed for a long moment. He nods in agreement, standing up from the bed.
“From — there’s one in another room…” he trails off, heading for the door, and Kaeya’s eyebrows raise slightly. Once again, he sets a gentle hand on Diluc’s shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.
“Perhaps I should retrieve the chair — you’re much too small to be wandering off on your own, hm?”
Diluc just stares for a moment, still holding onto his owl in a loose grip. “I…I can do it,” he says, though he doesn’t sound too sure himself.
“But of course! I know you’re very strong, after all. But little lads like you should only be worried about nice birds and colours, should they not? How about you let me worry about getting the chair while you stay here for me and keep your owl friend company?”
The words seem to have their intended effect — Diluc gaze softens impossibly further. He shuffles forth toward Kaeya, as though cast afloat in unfamiliar waters and only just becoming aware that he can’t feel the bottom beneath his feet. Even Kaeya feels momentarily out of his depth as he sets a hand on Diluc’s arm, exhaling gently. They remain there for a lingering moment.
Diluc really does look young amidst the shadows that gather in his room, wide red eyes fixated on a point over Kaeya’s shoulder as he brings his owl back up to his chest. Fascination and something alarmingly close to fondness tangle together somewhere inside his chest, filling it with an odd warmth.
Perhaps this younger headspace might seem strange at first to any ordinary person, but Kaeya can’t say he’s ever felt that way. That’s his brother, after all.
He taps Diluc’s arm to get his attention. “How about I open the curtains so you can look out while I get another chair?”
Diluc nods, so Kaeya moves toward the desk to do just that, letting pale moonlight flood inside and chase the evening shadows towards the corners of the room. He holds out a hand toward Diluc, who takes it as he approaches the desk.
“One, two, then into the chair — there’s a good lad.” He grabs the sketchbooks and colours from the bed, setting them on the desk. “Why don’t you start on some colouring while I grab another chair, alright? I won’t be long.”
Another nod, except this time Diluc is willing to meet his gaze for a moment. Kaeya offers him a faint smile. Diluc looks back down at his sketchbooks, opening the one they’d looked at together and flicking through its pages.
Kaeya makes relatively quick work of retrieving the chair in the next room, ensuring that he makes minimal noise as he carries it back into Diluc’s quarters. He’s a little surprised to find Diluc’s gaze on him the moment he enters, but the boy is quick to look away once he has seeming confirmation of Kaeya’s return.
He pulls up his chair beside Diluc’s and takes a seat, gazing over his shoulder at the sketchbook. He seems to have made a start on filling in the lines of his dusk bird with deep blues and yellows. His tawny owl friend is sitting upright on the window sill.
“The dusk bird, hm? Is there anywhere I can help?”
Diluc thinks for a moment before grabbing a lime green crayon and creating a faint outline along the ends of the bird’s wings. “Here,” he says, as he hands Kaeya the crayon.
Kaeya hums, scooting his chair closer. “Very well. Let’s test out my colouring abilities, shall we?”
Relative quiet fills the room as they work on their respective areas of the bird sketch, with Kaeya casting surreptitious glances over at the boy beside him every now and again in an attempt to monitor his headspace.
It’s not fine art by any means — Diluc’s colouring is mostly uncoordinated and Kaeya has never been much of an artist — but he thinks that they’re doing a relatively good job all things considered.
At some point, Kaeya uses a yellow pencil to draw a faint smiley face on the empty page next to the dusk bird sketch. Diluc takes note of this, a small smile tugging at his mouth. He uses his green pencil to draw a squiggly line next to Kaeya’s smiley, who then uses a pink crayon to draw a swirling pattern beside that. When they’re finally done with the dusk bird, the page beside it is a scrambled mess of various colours, patterns and smileys. Kaeya cannot contain a chuckle of amusement.
“My, my. I’d say that we make quite the artistic duo.”
Diluc nods, gravitating toward his stuffed owl toy once more. Kaeya notes inwardly that his movements have become slightly more uncoordinated over the course of their colouring.
“It’s—“ he pauses, looking down at the page as he draws his owl close. “it’s—colours.”
“Lots of colours,” Kaeya agrees, “we’ve even got a nice blue sky here, isn’t that something? This dusk bird could just fly right away, hm?”
Diluc smiles again, which is admittedly still a sight that Kaeya is adjusting to.
“Can’t do that,” he murmurs, “‘s drawing.”
Kaeya chuckles again. “Hm, perhaps you’re right. It is night after all. Perhaps it’ll fly away in the daytime?”
Diluc shakes his head. “S’ill—still can’t.”
“Ah, not in the daytime either? Well, that’s a shame. Perhaps only Albedo can bring drawings to life after all.” He absently tucks Diluc’s hair behind his ear, hand lingering for a moment to brush through the strands. “Speaking of nighttime, it is getting awfully late. Perhaps you’d like something to drink before we wind down? Some warm milk, maybe?”
Diluc hums, and the sound is tinged with a hint of anxiousness — the most Kaeya has heard from him thus far. He squirms a bit in his chair to face Kaeya, hand tightening around his owl. “Going?”
“Oh, not for very long, little one. I’ll be back before you know it, I promise.”
Little one?
Kaeya’s not entirely sure where that came from, but Diluc seems to relax a bit, looking away and tapping on his owl as he thinks. He shoots a not-so-subtle glance over at Kaeya, clearly hesitant.
“Kae?” he questions, testing the waters.
“Yes?” Kaeya responds, as swift and affirming as possible.
Diluc points toward the bottom drawer of his filing cabinet, mashing the bottom part of his face into his stuffed owl friend.
“This one?” Kaeya clarifies, as he reaches for the drawer. When he receives another affirmative noise, he opens the cabinet, eyebrows raising slightly at the beaker hidden within it. It seems close to a regular cup, but this one has a lid and a spout. Not quite one of those sippy cups that children in Mondstat use, but close enough.
“Ah, I see. Shall I get you a drink in this one, then?”
“Mhm,” Diluc agrees, though he still seems somewhat uneasy at the prospect. He brings his legs up onto the chair and taps away at his owl, looking out the window. Kaeya chuckles inwardly, just a little amused that Diluc is reluctant to admit to his worry, even when small.
“Now, I know you’re a big kid and all, but will you be alright here while I go and fetch us both a drink?”
Diluc nods, and Kaeya hums. “Hm, very well. You’ll be brave for me in the meantime, won’t you? I won’t be long.”
“Mhm. I’ll be alright,” Diluc confirms, setting his owl down on the desk before him. He huffs when Kaeya tucks another stray strand of hair behind his ear, prompting a small chuckle.
“Sorry, sorry, much too doting, I know. I’ll go and get us our drinks now, shall I? It’ll only be a couple of minutes.”
“M’kay,” comes the subdued response.
Kaeya doesn’t think he’s done anything quite as fast as he’d washed Diluc’s beaker in the sink downstairs and made up some warm milk, grabbing a glass of water for himself in the process. It’s after about four or five minutes or so that Kaeya enters Diluc’s room once more, gently shutting the door behind him with his foot.
Diluc is sitting on the edge of his bed when he enters, his owl friend sat beside him. He brightens imperceptibly upon seeing Kaeya, extending a hand out toward him. There’s a haziness to his gaze that hadn’t been present before, and something squeezes inside Kaeya’s chest at the sight. He tries not to dwell on it as he carefully sets his glass of water down on the desk and approaches Diluc, humming soothingly.
“Now, that wasn’t so long, was it? And look at that, I’ve even got your drink here.”
He hands Diluc the drink, assuming that’s what he’s after - he doesn’t particularly seem like a physically clingy kid, after all. Perhaps a little spacey and distant, even, unlike the vibrant exuberance he used to possess when he was younger. When Diluc doesn’t lower his arm, his eyebrows raise in surprise. He sits down on the bed beside Diluc, opening his arms in a tentative invitation. When Diluc tips towards him just slightly, Kaeya takes the liberty of drawing him into his chest.
“You really are just a little guy, hm? You always were a cute kid.”
Kaeya gets the impression that Diluc doesn’t much understand what he’s saying, but that’s alright with him. He shuffles them both up against the headboard of the bed and holds him to his chest, arms wrapped securely around Diluc’s shoulders as he drinks from his beaker. Rain continues to pour, a steady patter overhead.
Is this necessarily what he was expecting to be doing when he woke up this morning? Well, no, not exactly. But he can’t really bring himself to mind. This is his brother, after all.