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“Dain,” Kaeya said, gaze void of contradiction. He was stretched out on his side, bluest of eyes set on his friend’s face.
“Yes?” Dainsleif looked back at him, too aware of the raw tone of his own voice in the dimly lit tent.
“When you fall asleep, do you dream?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I’m curious.” The prince’s lips twitched but there was no humor in his eyes.
“I don’t,” Dainsleif answered. “I haven’t slept either.”
Kaeya’s eye widened. He lifted himself on one arm, staring down at his friend in visible surprise. “You don’t sleep? Ever?”
“I rest. But every time I close my eyes …” I see a sky full of flames and a sea void of stars. I see nothing, because that’s what remains of home.
He couldn’t finish that sentence.
“When I first came to Mondstadt,” Kaeya said, “I couldn’t sleep either. I tossed and turned, and I snuck out to stroll through the woods at night, looked at the stars … nothing seemed to help.”
“What changed?”
The prince shrugged, then leaned back on both of his arms. “I let go.”
It sounded so simple, too simple. Impossible, too.
“It doesn’t mean I don’t miss home, don’t get me wrong.” Kaeya smiled and in the dark, his hair held a shade of midnight. “But I was tired to relive the day I lost everything. I chose myself, because that’s all I had left. It doesn’t mean I don’t pay a price for it. I have to lie to everyone I meet, all the time. But I definitely sleep better now.”
Dainsleif frowned at him. “That sounds tiring, too.”
“I got used to it.” His prince offered him a frivolous grin. “And I’m pretty damn good at lying.”
He rolled on his side once more, facing his friend directly. “The reason I was asking you about dreams is because I never had them either. Not since we lost Khaenri’ah. But a couple of weeks ago, they came back to me. First, I didn’t know what they were supposed to represent but now that you’ve returned … I’m fairly certain they were trying to tell me you were looking for me.”
“Are you sure they were dreams?”
The prince rolled his eye. “Yes, Dain. I know what dreams are. I saw stars and a black ocean. I saw Inteyvat flowers bloom at the bottom of that sea. A face reflected on the water’s surface, and I could never recognize who it was. But those eyes … full of stars.” He smiled again, but it looked a little fragile this time. His gaze met Dainsleif’s once more. “You’re the only person with eyes like this, Dain.”
A warm sensation gripped Dainsleif’s heart and spread all the way to his cheeks.
How strange, to hear a simple truth about his own appearance and to feel so flustered about it. And the way Kaeya was looking at him …
He cleared his throat. “You’re saying you dreamed about me before I arrived in Mondstadt?”
The prince nodded. “What about you? You didn’t see anything?”
“No,” he replied. His cheeks were still burning from the unexpected revelation. “But that’s because you’ve been on my mind for centuries. I was searching for you because I cannot sleep.”
Kaeya was silent for a moment before he said, “Now that you’ve found me, do you think you’ll be able to?”
“I’m not sure. I’d rather stay awake to ensure your safety.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Of course not.”
The prince let out a sigh. “Dain, you should get some rest.”
“I will. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“But I do.” The words were a whisper in the dark. Dainsleif wasn’t certain whether they were meant for his ears. But they made him feel warm once more.
He could feel his heart pound in his chest – alive, alive, alive – and he wondered what it meant.
As if he had noticed Dainsleif’s growing nerves, Kaeya smiled again. “I always wonder what’s on your mind when you look at me like this.”
“What do you mean?”
The smile bloomed – a curious grey curve, a challenge and a dare. “I can’t decide if you want to strangle me or kiss me. It feels like you’re holding back and I would like to know what it is you’re trying to hide from me.”
Dainsleif felt a lump in his throat. Another rush of heat warmed his face and he wanted to curse himself for his lack of composure.
He felt embarrassed at the thought that his prince had read him so easily. After all this time, Kaeya was still the only person who could irk him like that. He felt all flustered and foolish. It was so unlike him, and he didn’t know how to process these emotions.
All he could do was break their eye contact and roll on his back, so he could stare at the tent’s ceiling instead.
It drove him crazy, how he longed for the stars in that moment. For the stars and something else …
Kaeya chuckled softly beside him and Dainsleif knew his hasty aversion had betrayed him even more.
“I would never want to hurt you,” he said because he had to say something. “How could you possibly think that?”
The covers beside him rustled but he didn’t dare another glance.
“You want to kiss me, then?” Kaeya concluded, voice dipped in usual mischief.
What if I do?
Dainsleif couldn’t answer that question, not truthfully. “It’s been a long time since I felt that way.”
“Pity.” Kaeya sighed once more. “Should you ever feel that way again …” An obvious grin traced his tone.
A hint of disappointment trickled through Dainsleif; he tried to ignore it, ban it from his swirling emotions. All of them caused by the prince.
He had to be honest – with himself and with Kaeya – at some point. But now that he had actually found his prince, his last remnant of home, his priority had to be Kaeya‘s safety. Especially because the prince didn’t seem to care about it at all.
Everything beyond – irritating feelings, ancient memories – was something he had to keep to himself, for now.
“It’s late. You should get some rest.”
“Fine,” Kaeya relented. “You should sleep, too. You found me and I won’t leave, I promise you that.”
A promise?
A memory rippled through Dainsleif at the sound of that word, sudden and vivid.
✧
The both of them, rain-soaked and freezing, rooted at the spot beneath Kaeya’s bedroom window. Stars scattered bright and endless in the black sky above.
Kaeya – who’d been holding Dainsleif’s hand in his for the whole way back from the forest – raised their joined palms to his lips to place a kiss on Dainsleif’s skin.
“Tomorrow night, I will beat you,” he said, golden eye alight with anticipation.
Dainsleif raised a brow at him. “You said that last night. And the night before. And the night before that …”
“I mean it,” the prince retorted, smirk brushing along the back of Dainsleif’s hand. He lowered their linked palms, only to take a step closer.
That was their secret, something that existed only for them, only in middle of the night, the stars their only witnesses. A touch of hands, a kiss goodnight, teasing smiles and quiet understanding.
This time, Kaeya’s lips lingered for a second, only a few inches between them. He smirked as he said, “I promise, I will beat you, Captain.”
Dainsleif was the one who kissed him first – perhaps to silence him and bring an end to the relentless teasing.
The scent of rain and earth and late summer hung around them as Kaeya let go of Dainsleif’s hand to pull him closer instead. He reached around his waist, warm fingertips brushing along the fabric beneath Dainsleif’s cloak – all of this while he was smiling into the kiss.
When Dainsleif realized what the prince was up to, it was already too late.
He could feel the swift movements as Kaeya unsheathed a dagger from his belt and stepped back, leaving Dainsleif perplexed and lightheaded for a second before he had the chance to react.
As he finally rushed forward, Kaeya evaded his attempt to reach for him with a smug grin.
“Ah, ah, ah!” He held the dagger above his head, a triumphant gleam in his two-colored gaze. Dark, wet strands of hair framed his face, rendering him part of the night.
“That’s cheating.” Dainsleif scowled at him, folding his arms in front of his chest. “It doesn’t count.”
“Oh, it counts,” Kaeya announced, lowering the dagger and spinning it lightly between the fingers of his right hand. “I was just trying a new technique.”
“Mh-hm.” Dainsleif sighed, half a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Care to give it back now?”
Kaeya approached him once more and pressed another fleeting kiss to his lips. He placed the blade between his teeth and started climbing up the brick wall to his room.
“Kaeya!” Dainsleif called after him, trying to keep his voice down as much as possible.
Once the prince had reached the window, he took the blade from his mouth and waved it at Dainsleif. “You’ll get it back tomorrow, I promise.” He was still grinning. “If you can take it from me, that is.”
“It’s my dagger, I need it!”
“Goodnight to you too, Dain!”
✧
Dainsleif was still staring at the tent’s ceiling that shielded them from wind and night and, unfortunately, the stars.
The memory echoed in his mind like a spinning coin, unwilling to fall and choose a side just yet.
Slowly, he moved his hand across the covers, still not daring to look at Kaeya. He stopped himself when he realized what he was doing, heaviness settling in his chest.
Before he could retrieve his hand, he felt a movement beside him that stilled even his breathing. A second later, bare skin brushed his own, sending sparks and warmth through him at once.
He didn’t dare to move.
Kaeya seemed to wait for him to pull away and when he didn’t, the prince slowly interlaced their fingers, linking their palms just like in the haunting memory.
Dainsleif let out a trembling breath and hoped it didn’t betray his pounding heart.
He closed his eyes, then, saw a sky full of flames and a sea void of stars. But he saw Kaeya’s smile, too. An ocean of Inteyvat flowers, all frozen in place, unchanged. He even allowed himself to imagine another kiss – another cloud adding to his torment.
Their time had passed. Dainsleif wasn’t sure whether it had ever begun in the first place.
He was torturing himself to even think about it.
A knight and a prince. Two ghosts, homesick and eternal.
There would never be a time for them.
The hole in Dainsleif’s chest ached once more; he could feel all the pieces that he’d lost, all that he lacked and would never recover.
But he dreamed about me.
The prince dreamed about me.
Out loud, Dainsleif said, voice merely a whisper, “Goodnight, Kaeya.”