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Two distant figures stood at the edge of Liyue Harbor, soaking in the final wisps of fervor lingering in the atmosphere.
“Venti.”
The bard tore his gaze away from the mesmeric firework embers and met with steely amber eyes. The twinkling city lights bounced across those usually dim irises, making them glitter like prized jewels. He hitched his breath at the sight, and while doing so, unintentionally gulped a lungful of smoke— all that remained of the festival rites.
“Ahem— um— yes, Xiao?” Venti sputtered, trying not to grimace at the faint taste of soot coating the roof of his mouth.
The adeptus stepped forward, hovering in Venti’s space with a stone expression etched on his face. “Now that Lantern Rite is over, I assume you will return home soon? I was wondering if there was anything I could do to ensure your smooth departure.”
“Ah… Right, I’ll have to head back in a bit. I was so caught up in the fun I nearly forgot!” Venti chuckled, but it did nothing to abate the somber weight now tugging at his chest. Of course, he wanted to return to Mondstadt. Liyue Harbor’s bustling street sides were charming, but it wasn’t home. The smoke clogging his throat nearly made him nostalgic for Klee’s explosives.
Yet, he couldn’t bear abandoning all he had in Liyue. There was just something about the place and its people that oozed an intoxicating, magnetizing energy, leaving Venti only craving more.
“Thank you for joining the festivities,” the adeptus said, slightly bowing his head. “Zhongli would never admit it, but seeing another archon put him at ease, especially since you got along so well with director Hu Tao. They are both… patiently awaiting a future visit.”
To the naked ear, Xiao’s words may have spilled out in his usual drilling tone, as if he was reading from an instruction manual. However, his voice carried a slight strain— an extra breath woven into his dialogue, a desperate sigh caged behind practiced monotone.
Maybe it was not only Zhongli and Hu Tao who longed for a return. Maybe Xiao himself enjoyed the festival at Venti’s side, despite its stifling atmosphere. Maybe even adepti can yearn.
Maybe the bard was reading too far into the slight lilt of Xiao’s voice, analyzing every pitch as if he was learning a song by ear. He shook off his deluded hope. “I wish I could say I’ll miss that old blockhead, but really, all those lectures tired me out! Thanks for sparing me from dealing with that. You truly were my saving grace.”
When it came to Zhongli, Venti couldn't help but dish out meaningless insults, but with Xiao… He meant every word.
The adeptus stalled for a moment, shrinking in on himself. “Ah, right... That was nothing. I only wanted you to be comfortable during your visit. But… please do heed his words and not get drunk around children again.”
“I know, I know. Sorry about that again. I don’t know what came over me… I feel like that old man was setting me up or something, practically laying out those vintage wine bottles for me like that…” Venti hung his head high in mock offense and pouted, then looked to see Xiao clearly trying to hide his smirk. Cute…
“Oh, and Xiao,” he quickly added to play off the warmth spreading across his cheeks. “I know you hardly go into the city yourself, but somehow, you’re still the best tour guide around. I’m impressed!”
He responded with a light smile, affection tugging at the corners of his mouth— until it was broken by a small flurry of coughs into his sleeve.
“Hey, Xiao? Are you—”
“I’m alright,” he assured. “The atmosphere after the festival always gets to me. First, they release that floating trash, then those ear-splitting fireworks, and, by the archons, they just infest the air with pollution…” There it was, that slight rasp in his words. This time, however, his inflection was laced with urgency rather than fondness.
Xiao’s reasoning was logical, but it did nothing to quell the uneasiness swelling in Venti’s chest. The archon surveyed him carefully, searching for any telltale signs of decay.
From the time they had left the main city, there was a subtle slur in Xiao's dialogue. His right shoulder drooped as he stood, his back hunching. Tremors flowed through his hands and burrowed into his shoulders, making him shiver. His half-lidded expression screamed exhaustion, even though he hid it with eloquence.
“How about a quick song before I leave, hm? There’s no hurt in it, even if you are just sick from the air,” Venti offered, summoning his lyre and carelessly plucking at a few strings.
Xiao’s expression lit up for a moment before he pulled himself back down, clearing his throat. “N— no, that won’t be necessary. I’ve graduated from needing to survive on a melody.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that for a second. Your strength has grown tremendously; I’ve seen it myself. But Xiao,” the archon narrowed his gaze, “You don’t have to pretend around me. I know you’re in pain. You can stop hiding it.”
Xiao’s eyes widened, and he shook his head, clenching his fists until his knuckles bore white. “No… no, I can’t… Please, just go…”
“I won’t leave you like this—”
“Please! ” Xiao cried, hanging his head and squeezing his eyes shut. “Don’t— don’t look at me. I’m fine—”
“Xiao,” Venti grabbed his shoulders, forcing the adeptus to look back up at him. “Hey… It’s okay. We’re alone. You can’t hurt anyone. You can let go.”
Xiao strained a bit, tears pooling in his gaze, desperately clawing at whatever semblance of normalcy he had left. That was, until his karmic binds won the battle over him, and he let out a strangled gasp. His knees buckled, and he fell to the ground with an unceremonious thump.
“I— I’m sorry,” the yaksha choked, nails digging into the grass to keep himself upright. “I thought I would make it all the way through… I wanted to prove to you—”
It was much worse than Venti had guessed. He dropped to Xiao’s level, carefully cupping his cheek and sending a gentle puff of wind flowing through his skin. “You don’t have to save face in front of me.”
“No— I’m better, I swear!” It was a promise made in vain, as coils of shadow began to swirl around him. “I’m stronger now. I don’t… I don’t need—” He gasped and clutched his head in his hands, wheezing in pain.
He was right. He was no longer that junior adeptus, helplessly clinging to Morax at every meeting of gods. He was not a distant audience member of the young Anemo Archon’s solo moonlit serenades, admiring from afar but never stepping into the light.
He was Adeptus Xiao, conqueror of demons, who calmed the ocean itself by bringing down its serpent god. The conqueror of demons, who ate almond tofu instead of snow and craved dreams instead of nightmares.
Yet, that never meant he did not deserve help.
The yaksha may not have realized it, but his strength didn't stem from experience and training alone; he’d finally grown into his own skin, and that gave him the drive to fight— the drive to protect.
Venti sighed, carefully maneuvering Xiao into a more comfortable position, his head resting on his lap. “Shhh, it’s okay,” he cooed as he gently stroked the adeptus’s hair and hummed.
“N— no, I— Just give me a minute, I’ll be fine.” He shifted to his side and winced, squeezing Venti’s thigh as he struggled for breath. “Sorry— I…”
Xiao fumbled to get better grounding before grabbing his demon mask and putting it on. Wisps of darkness began to slither around him as his breathing became more labored. The screaming shadows thickened like heavy tar until they completely engulfed the yaksha, whipping a fierce gale. They formed chains to wrap around his limbs, and he hissed at the burns they charred into his skin. He stumbled away from Venti and let out a strained scream as he cradled his head and fought against the force.
And Venti was forced to watch as he writhed in pain right before him, helpless to alleviate it. It was unbearable.
Unable to stomach the scene any longer, the bard finally got to his feet and— against Xiao’s wishes— conjured his flute, blowing a single soft note. It had been ages since the ancient instrument knew the breath of the wind, so its first sound blared discordant and off-key.
However, it got Xiao’s attention. He gasped softly and stilled for a moment, the energy around him halting its relentless swirl.
The pinprick of Venti’s hesitation completely melted as he gradually sunk into the song. The instrument fitted like a glove, seamlessly drifting into crisp tones as if it had been played only for the first time. His fingertips danced across the flute’s openings as he continued his ballad, a pattern he’d fallen into effortlessly as he eased into the harmony.
It was an older piece of Venti’s. He hadn’t touched it since he had tried the melody one night while lounging at the water’s edge in Dihua Marsh. Every time he tried giving the song an ending, it never satisfied him. The chord progression would feel off, or the rhythm, or sometimes even the entire tune. He never understood what it was about this particular song that rendered him completely musically illiterate, so he got sick of it and opted to tuck it away where the rest of his failed drafts were left to rot.
This was a song that he would keep on beginning and continuing and never finish. He would let every note ring out and watch as the color rose back into Xiao’s complexion, looping the chorus as he gave the tune another chance.
“I… remember this song,” The yaksha rasped. “It was my favorite.”
Venti’s heart surged. He had almost forgotten the implication of this ballad— after all, it marked the first time he met Xiao. It was a wonder how his breath and hands seemed to move completely on their own, dragging the forgotten music back into the limelight just for the occasion. He smiled into his flute, hoping his expression would compensate for the words he could not convey.
The bard circled back to the first verse to bide himself some time as he wracked his brain for a bridge.
Xiao finally stilled, breaths even and tension melting from his shoulders. The whirling decay was much tamer now, no longer warping the atmosphere with its poison. At some point, the yaksha gathered enough energy to stand, and he staggered towards Venti. “I… I’m sorry,” he wheezed between catching his breath and clutching his side with a wince.
The bard furrowed his brow in confusion as the chorus swelled.
Taking the lack of verbal response as a cue, Xiao simply began to unravel, his words spilling over the edge. He cracked open the fissure in his heart harboring all his deepest thoughts and put them on display for Venti to gawk at. “You… you were always better than me,” he admitted. “I don’t understand it, how you just— you bring light to everything around you. Elderly mortals, and children, and younger gods, and even cats are attracted to you. I never used to understand it— but then you saved my life one night without a second thought. You didn’t even know me, but you did it anyway. Venti… you take the broken under your wing and teach them to fly again. I wish I could have your mercy, but, honestly, if it was me, I would have taken myself out of my misery.”
No… that’s not right, Venti wanted to say. I don’t ‘fix’ anything. I only came upon you by chance. Don’t give me credit for your growth. That was all you, not me. He wished to cry it out, to engrain it into Xiao's mind, but was chained by the cyclic song on his lips.
“I reside in the shadows,” Xiao continued. “And I prefer it that way. Yet… when I hear your song—” He stepped closer, narrowing the space between them— “I can only mourn the presence of the mask on my face.” His fingertips rested on the demonic mask for a moment before letting it dissolve. Under it, tears slicked his face and beaded around his glistening eyes. “One day, I wish to wear it and dance— not to conquer demons, but to your tune, amid a sea of flowers. I want to bask in your light with you. Is that truly such wishful thinking?”
Venti's instinct fought to continue the song, but everything else in him begged to let go and pour out to Xiao all the ballads he’d written about him and all the times he’d sit under the stars in reminiscence just to try and spot his constellation. There were so many occasions where Venti would grieve his presence, so he would force himself to stare at the moon and remind himself that it was the same moon illuminating Xiao wherever he was. They resided under the same sky, even when the space between them felt like dimensions apart. So no, longing for a dance amongst fresh flowers was not wishful thinking. Venti longed for it, too, more than anything. He wished just to drop the musical muzzle on his lips and wipe Xiao's tears away as he told him all the things he’d like to do. Yet, faint shadows still clung to the yaksha's figure, and he wouldn’t dare risk interrupting the flow of the song in that state.
“I owe you a thousand lifetimes in debt. Today, though… I only wanted to prove that I was no longer your burden.” Xiao sighed and chewed on his lower lip, his face twisted in regret. “I thought— I knew — that if I could only make it through Lantern Rite without depending on your song, you would recognize my fortitude. Of course, I at first had convictions about attending the festival, but it ended up proving to be a much more pleasant experience than I had anticipated. After all, I had you as a safety blanket by my side. Your music was never even necessary— only your mere presence did the job. For the first time, I wasn’t afraid of innocents being harmed by my aura. The pain was only a distant memory; I even thought I could make it all the way through— but as the day wore on, I could hardly ignore the corrosion beginning to creep back. It was inching on unbearable, but all I could think about was keeping up appearances around you. The last thing I wanted was for you to believe I needed saving once more, yet… I think that, in sickness and in health, I will always need to rely on you.”
Venti let a tear escape as he neared the end of the chorus again, desperate to just cling to Xiao like a child and tell him that he was more important than any song or festival or force of evil combined, and that he was the only 'burden' Venti carried that made him feel lighter than air.
Xiao's gaze softened as he wiped the tear away with his gloved thumb. He stepped closer until their clothes brushed against each other and their foreheads nearly touched. “I don’t know how I could possibly repay your kindness… but for now—“
Without a single warning, his eyes fluttered closed, and he leaned in, tenderly placing a light peck on Venti’s flute, right above where his lips rested. The bard’s eyes blew wide at the gesture, and he gasped, his playful melody bursting into a cacophony of dissonant noises.
“Thank you,” Xiao finished. He began to step back, putting as much distance between them as possible.
Before he could process what happened, fear suddenly clawed at the bard’s insides. He had a gut feeling of what would happen next, and he wouldn’t dare allow it without saying his piece. He ripped the flute from his lips— “No, wait! Xiao! I—”
Before Venti could even form a sentence, the adeptus dissolved into a flutter of butterflies and shadow, instantly shooting away and leaving not a single trace, like he was never even there in the first place.
It all happened so quickly that Venti could have convinced himself he imagined it, but when he ran his fingers over the faint trace of moisture on his flute, he knew it wasn’t just an odd dream.
The conqueror of demons— who now made the first move instead of lingering in the archon's peripheral vision.
What on earth? He lifted a hand to his lips, lightly brushing against them and wishing his damn flute wasn’t blocking Xiao’s path.
But now, Xiao was gone, leaving Venti desperately trying to pick up the pieces he left behind. All the words he'd wanted to say died in his throat as he gazed pointedly at where the yaksha stood mere moments ago.
His knees buckled and he let his weight crumble under him in defeat, hazily picking at the disturbed grass that Xiao clawed at.
Why was it that whenever they drew closer, it was never quite close enough?
They were only a song that they would keep on beginning and continuing and never finish— dancing around each other in orbit at every encounter, yet never touching as if they were two of the same ends on a magnet. They pushed and pushed with every song and endearing glance and stolen moment, yet the unspoken tension only ever remained dormant. A turbulent flame burned behind feather touches, but they would keep this fire locked away until it died on its own.
Yet, the embers that remained so silent only tripled in size when they met once more. Every faint smile tracing Xiao’s mouth was kindling to the raging flames. Every soft praise was oil to the fire. Now, Venti’s lips burned.
No… come back, he pleaded silently. Stumbling forward, he reached out to catch the final wisps of shadow in the air, letting it swirl in his hand before fully dissipating.
His chest burned.
But the pattern must resume once more, where they kept their safe distance and played safe music in safe realms of their own. Venti was always perched on a rock, and Xiao always watched from the shore. It was safe. It was the way it had always been, and who was Venti to change it?
Yet, then again, it was Xiao who— while indirectly— still kissed him. Was this permission? Was this a line thrown into the ocean for Venti to catch onto? Can they finally close the gap?
Venti never wanted anything more than to just stop keeping up with the endless back and forth.
But the innate fear of rejection still anchored his desires to the ground. It was a tugging worry that he somehow read everything wrong, and that pursuing anything more than what they already had would wreck their friendship forever. All this time, the fear grew the back of his mind and fed on his hesitation like a parasite.
And then Xiao pursued for more than what they had all by himself. There was no more room for hesitation.
It was an irrational fear, and finally, the bard just let it be whisked away by the night breeze.
The scent of qingxin and dried blood left a faint residue in the air, so without brewing on it much longer, Venti followed its trail. He traveled with the wind that carried its aroma, laughing as he felt fresh air stream past his face. The bard melted in the breeze, free from the human vessel he bore. It was refreshing to simply lose himself in the night's cool breath.
The wind led him to a large lake area, where he found the yaksha himself lounging by the shoreside and dipping his feet in the water.
Of course, he would be at Dihua Marsh.
Venti descended upon the area and rematerialized. “You’re not having fun without me, are you?”
Xiao jumped from his thoughts. “Wh— Venti? What are you—”
“Oh, come on, Xiao. I couldn’t let you leave without getting the last word in!” He smiled wide, but the entire speech he prepared had dissipated the second he locked eyes with the one before him.
Come on, just say something. You had all this planned out, he urged himself. Yet, nothing came to mind.
“I don’t really wish to continue this conversation—”
“Why did you kiss me?”
Xiao was suddenly a deer caught in headlights, eyes wide as saucers and face beet-red.
Way to go, he scorned himself. That’s all you came up with?
He shook off the slip-up. “I mean, well, you technically kissed my flute. And, like, that was nice and all! But… what was that? I didn’t think you would… Not that I minded, though! I was just… Well, you know what I mean, right?” He seemed to be digging himself deeper into the hole he had created.
Xiao furrowed his brow, a bit dazed. “Pardon… but I don’t seem to follow.”
Great. Venti rubbed his temples. He breathed in deeply, letting all the clutter in his mind dissolve. Perhaps it was best not to think so deeply about what he wanted to say. After all, his greatest songs always only came to him on a whim, not when he had the intention to create one.
“Back at the harbor, you said a lot of things that didn’t sit right with me: you know, things like shadows and light, debt and repentance, saviors and conquerors…”
The yaksha crossed his arms and tilted his head towards Venti intently, a slight raise in his brow and pout on his lips.
Celestia above, please don’t look at me like you’re some keen puppy dog. He cleared his throat and ignored the pounding in his chest, continuing on. “I just don’t think it’s as black and white as that. This isn't a ballad or a fairytale— it's us. So please don’t paint me as a saint, okay? I’ve… committed my fair share of atrocities. Just as you have. We’re hardly any different, you know? It’s just that you’ve been dealt a much less fortunate hand than I. But, despite it all, you’re still a valiant protector, and you always will be. It's a much more heroic position than you believe it is. You always insist that you do what you do because of duty and debt, yet I believe it’s really the compassion in your heart that leads you to defend those you care for. And I…”
I love you for that.
He let those words die under his tongue; it wasn’t the right time.
“I truly admire it,” he corrected. “And another thing— never believe yourself to be a burden on me. This— whatever this is— it’s not transactional. It’s not a tab you can just pay off and be free from. I’ll always be here if you need me, Xiao, and… I’ll always need you as well.” His heartbeat pounded in his throat, and he was worried he would choke on it before getting to say anything else.
“You… need me?” Xiao seemed honestly flabbergasted at the idea, blinking and staring quizzically at Venti through long eyelashes.
“Of course. To be frank, you were the first to ever really appreciate my music. I never thought I would get anywhere with it, only playing for personal sentimentality— until I saw you so profoundly affected by it. You came into my life and showed me that symphonies could heal the deepest wounds no one can see. So, I practiced, and I composed, and I wrote and performed and waited just to see how you would like it. You were— are— my muse.”
“Venti…” Now he seemed to be the one lost for words.
The bard grinned warmly. “Can I take you somewhere?”
Xiao broke eye contact and glued his gaze to the floor. “I… don’t know. I must stay in Liyue.”
“Oh, come on!" He pouted and gave his best puppy dog eyes and winning smile combo. "Do you trust me?”
He hesitated for a moment before slowly looking back up and nodding.
Venti extended his hand. “Great! It’ll only be for a few minutes. I promise I won’t cause you any trouble.”
The yaksha gently took his hand, and they dispersed into the air, becoming only a trail of butterflies and dandelions drifting in tandem through the wind. They swirled swiftly past miles of mountains and vast terrain until the gales became sweeter, the air lighter. Venti led them down to a hill dotted with white flowers.
Still hand-in-hand, he led Xiao to the head of the peak, where a vast horizon filled the night sky with rolling hills and dazzling stars.
“Starsnatch Cliff,” the bard whispered, the sight never failing to amaze him, no matter how many times he'd seen it.
“And why are we here?” Xiao seemed to feel the same way, but he hid his awe under his usual poker face.
Oh, and would Venti love to see that face crumble. He chuckled and turned towards the grassy plain behind him, blowing a soft puff of air from his hand and letting the flowers scattered along the ground multiply until they completely covered the mountainside, almost like snow. He stepped forward a few paces and brought out his flute. Carefully, the bard shot a wind current under the instrument and let go of it, allowing it float in the air. Controlled bursts of wind flowed through the flute, and it rang out a few clean chords.
“Well, you did say you wanted to dance in a sea of flowers to my tune,” Venti chuckled. “And I’d like to finally give this song an ending. Why don’t we help each other out?”
The flute began its verse, and Xiao donned his mask, taking Venti’s hand. “How can you do that?” He stared at the floating instrument in bewilderment.
“I’m the god of wind and song,” said Venti simply, smirking. “It’s only my job.”
To his surprise, the yaksha laughed— actually laughed— and it was a melody like springtime lullabies. “And a job you exceed at. Is that why you’re always drunk?”
“Hey! What else is the wine god supposed to do?”
Xiao grabbed Venti’s hands and placed them on his shoulders. “Lead the dance, perhaps? What else are you the god of, again? Parties? Celebration?”
Being bold, are we? Two can play at that. Venti took the lead without hesitation, guiding Xiao as their feet expertly maneuvered around the cliffside. Surprised at how easily the yaksha kept up with his advances, he picked up the pace, this time adding a spin to the mix. Xiao took it gracefully, adding his own flourish to every move.
The familiar chorus swelled once more, and unexpectedly, Xiao took the cue to grab Venti by the waist and hoist him in the air for a twirl. He even blew a gust of wind under the bard to boost him up higher.
"Xiao!" Venti yelped, the moment of adrenaline melting into laughter.
The adeptus put him down, and without missing a beat, finished the rotation by leaning down to scoop up a flower. He held it up to Venti's face as they resumed their slower pace. "This looks like the flower on your hat," he pointed out.
"Yeah, it's called a cecilia. They're native to this cliff, and they're my favorite."
Xiao hummed in acknowledgment and twirled the stem in his hand, admiring it. "It smells sweet," he said, handing the flower to Venti.
The bard smiled softly at its blooming white petals before brushing aside Xiao's bangs and gently tucking it into his hair. "Now we match," he declared, satisfaction pulling at the corners of his eyes.
He only responded by lifting Venti for another spin.
They waltzed in total synchrony, almost as if they had melded into a single unit, hearts beating in tandem. He’d never felt anything more refreshing than a partner who perfectly kept up with his every move, keeping him on his toes— not to mention, said partner looked gorgeous while doing so.
“Where did you learn to dance?” Venti questioned, thoroughly impressed.
“Fighting styles and dances are not all too dissimilar. I practiced the art long ago alongside Indarius while looking for a way to better keep my balance. The method of learning didn’t matter to me; as long as I could vanquish my enemies as swiftly as I could, I was content with dancing.”
A half-witted “oh” was all the bard could muster, slightly chilled by the response.
“Though,” he added, “I hate to admit it, but while my initial intention was to hone my battle skills, I thoroughly enjoyed being able to dance. I wished I could simply dance for myself one day, without intent to kill.”
Venti pulled him in closer, lacing their fingers together. “And your wish is granted.”
He then summoned a sweet gust of wind carrying various shades of leaves and flowers. It swirled around them, mimicking their movements as they danced to the song. Doves perched by and sang along, occasionally flying past them. “Don’t forget, I’m the god of freedom, too,” he smirked. He gracefully dipped Xiao down on the next beat, leaning into him. “I think that's my favorite title.”
A fragment of an idea appeared to Venti, and before he could think through it rationally, he tilted his head down and gently kissed the yaksha mask where faux lips parted for jutting white fangs. After all, it was only fair to return what he was given.
Xiao flinched, taken aback. “What was that for?” he asked, slightly breathless.
“Just a thank you,” Venti winked. He hoisted Xiao back upright and held him closer.
The adeptus promptly removed his mask, staring at him with wide, gleaming golden eyes. “Can you… do that again?”
“Oh? Can we do it properly this time?”
He swallowed hard and nodded. “I want this to be real.”
Stunned that he would agree so eagerly, Venti smiled. He spun Xiao around one more time, him perfectly adjusting his footwork. As he came back to face him, the bard leaned in ever so slightly. Behind them, a new melody poured into the atmosphere. Without him even having to think about it, the wind currents through the flute produced a beautiful ascending arpeggio, letting the chorus build up on itself in a delicate crescendo.
“Do you hear that?” he whispered, barely an inch away from Xiao’s face.
“Yes.” He sighed in content, a fond smile pulling his lips.
Their breaths intermingled in the stinging winter air, dusting rosy pink across their faces. Venti would rather spend a century in that position than in another one where they ended chance encounters with reluctant goodbyes and awkward departures. He enjoyed the simple moment of standing so close and appreciating the warmth of the other’s body.
Thankfully, Xiao was not so patient. He closed the remaining distance between them, just barely brushing his lips against the bard’s. It was sweet, close-mouthed, and so brief that Venti may have missed it if his eyes weren’t blown wide in surprise when it happened.
Just that much was enough to send electric sparks racing down Venti’s throat. After the initial moment of shock, he regained composure and melted into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Xiao. The adeptus laid his hands on the other’s waist and pulled him in even closer. They couldn’t get enough of the other’s warmth, holding onto each other like they would disappear if they ever let go.
After centuries of shameful wondering, Venti was pleased to find that Xiao tasted of sweet almonds and fresh flowers. The aroma danced on their palettes as Venti playfully swiped his tongue along the yaksha’s cracked lips. Xiao pleasantly hummed at the gesture, the sound escaping him more beautiful than anything Venti could ever compose.
Their lips moved in synchrony, and their hands held each other in a dance so gentle and amorous; Venti was hardly even cognizant of the flute’s song finally ringing out in a resolution behind them.
After all, the nocturne of their soft moonlit waltz was all the melody they ever needed.