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Ahh, is she coming home?
Wanderer slouched back on the dining chair and tapped his foot in an erratic rhythm. Many thoughts disturbed his mind; this was the most uncertain he had been in ages.
One moment went by. Then a second, and a third, and all the while he hoped that someone, rather than silence, would keep him company.
When a distant jangle of keys came within the radius of his hearing, he practically sprinted to the door of the abode, twisting it open a little too enthusiastically.
At the entrance stood a subtly disheveled Mona, slightly frozen and just about to unlock the door herself. She lowered her hand, nodding curtly before letting herself inside without ever meeting his energy or gaze.
This sight was unusual, but Wanderer knew she was like this because of him. The anniversary of his fall at Sumeru was coming up, and his pooling regrets poured out of him as irritability. As a result, he was more easily riled up than usual.
Mona was originally no longer privy to information on his past. Though he was always aware that her consultations with the stars could reveal that of which he wanted to keep, the coldest shiver ran through him when she asked him about the name he hadn’t associated with for a year anyway, and Wanderer accidentally let the temperamental harbinger he so desperately tried to hide from her loose.
The man respected her wishes to give her space. They spent the day with their own agendas, but the uncertainty of their relationship at present made his insides churn.
Scaramouche was known to be a man of few nice words, and several heinous actions. Following his defeat, when the lesser lord took him in, she gave him a heart and he learned how to become human and positively interact with others.
… Learned in theory, that is. In practice, his archon-mandated and traveler-accompanied errands to the different nations showed that his struggles to express himself civilly still existed. But though outwardly harsh by force of habit, his new heart grew fond and friendly with some people, even more so with a certain mage he was reintroduced to in Mondstadt. By some miracle, she reciprocated his feelings.
Food had already been set on the table, as though Mona’s time of arrival had been precisely estimated. Normally, the man growing accustomed to his new life arrived back in the mage’s home earlier than she had and took his time to rest, often being found in the kitchen still by the time she came back. But today, two plates of a delicately arranged dish were already presented, like a peace offering.
“Come eat,” Wanderer commanded. “... If you want to,” he said, more quietly, realizing his initial tone.
Pulling out a chair, Mona took her place and observed the dish on her plate, before slowly taking bites out of it. Wanderer did the same, trying to cut the tension with his fork. Tender gazes ghosting among petty bickers about the stars were absent, and this was their most quiet meal to date. Yet the Wanderer’s heart was the loudest.
Once they were finished, he set the dishes in the sink. He opted not to attend to them right away, putting his focus on the woman whose heart he wanted to win back.
He found her just as she stepped into the bathroom and joined her without saying a word. His sudden entrance surprised Mona, but she didn’t stop him, observing him with mild annoyance and admittedly, curiosity.
The Wanderer ran a towel under the sink and squeezed the excess water. Then, leaning against the marble to face her, he reached out a free hand to hold her chin. But as his fingers were about to reach her, he looked into her eyes, which were finally meeting his gaze, as if to ask for permission. Understanding his intentions, Mona's demeanor softened, closing her lids and raising her head slightly as a sign of her consent. Trying to regulate the racing of his heart, he finally held the face he had made cry and missed all day, and gently caressed every crevice with the damp towel.
Kunikuzushi never had to apologize. Or rather, he never thought he needed to. For him, any action he committed, no matter how vile, so long as it contributed to his goal of power, was acceptable.
What Scaramouche lacked in his ability to speak kindly, Wanderer made up in his ability to instead not utter anything at all.
At present, he was powerless and at the astrologer’s mercy. He did not mind it one bit, for as long as he could be granted the opportunity to continue loving her.
“... I’m sorry.”
His love’s eyes fluttered open at the whisper.
“I didn’t mean any of those things I said about you.”
Mona sighed. “I know.”
They observed each other’s features for long seconds, the only sounds reflecting off the tiles being their breaths.
“I’m sorry too.”
“For what?”
“For being insensitive. For asking about that name.”
The easy way out was shifting the whole blame to a meek mage. The easy way out was to sweep the fact that he had still said hurtful words under his rugs of pride. Scaramouche would have done so.
But now, to the boy just escaping the shell of the balladeer, Mona was neither meek nor deserving of being criminalized.
“Don’t apologize,” he was cold, but his eyes betrayed his tone.
“... I was never an angel with that name. I have done things that I regret now as—as Kunikuzushi. But,”
Setting down the towel,
“I also met you then. So, if you want to know,”
Taking her hands in his own,
“Whatever you ask about me, I will… I will answer. And whatever you ask of me, I will comply. And if after, you want me to disappear, I will. I’ll make up for everything. Just…”
Softly kissing her fingers,
“... I’m sorry. For everything. I’m trying to be better,”
Trying to love better,
“So please be patient with me.”
.
.
.
He could only barely hide his surprise, stumbling back when Mona leaned in and planted her lips on his. When she pulled apart, she replied with her forgiveness, only just barely louder than their breaths.
Wanderer was unsure if she’d still forgive him once she inevitably learned about who he was. He was unsure if in her mind, his past would weigh more than his repentance.
But for now, he held the back of her head and reeled her in his affections, a vow to become the person she deserved to love attached at the hook.