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Days fell into night, flowers wilted and bloomed again, and Xiao still had yet to see Venti again. It’d been weeks.
Xiao was patient, yes. He recognized a country’s need for its deity, and therefore the deity’s need for its people. But stories spoke strongly of the independence of Venti’s land. They followed their god but did not seek him out. The god spent his time basking in their traditions, their conversations, but not demanding prayer or worship. His people prayed to him without needing to be asked.
And, sometimes at night, Xiao wished he could pray to the god as well. To ask for his presence. To see him again. To see the flowers of Venti’s design. The statues Venti’s people built to him and their small requests could not compare to Xiao’s desire to see him again. Even if the moment was bare in nature and fleeting.
It had been weeks since Venti had laid him down on the grasses of Liyue and cleansed him. Rid him, miraculously, benevolently, of corruption winding around his heart. Left him with a scatter of white petals and the true blessings of a god.
There were a couple of nights where Xiao was tempted to just find him himself. But perhaps that would be rude on his part. Venti had made a promise that he’d return and who was Xiao to doubt him?
So, in the dark of nights now, he laid awake outside, beneath the stars–waiting, waiting, for Venti’s return. For flowers to suddenly fall on his skin.
For hands, for lips on his cheeks, a greeting, soft under the pale light. For him, just him. Nobody and nothing else.
For sanctuary.
Tonight, there was moongleam bright upon the water of a forest pond Xiao was near. The grass felt soft beneath him. He waited.
If he closed his eyes and spread his wings out far, he could imagine the god appearing and reaching out to touch the loveliest parts of them. He always knew exactly where to stroke the down. Even when Xiao was injured and couldn’t move very much, Venti would still lean over him and pet all those places.
Nobody else had tried touching them like that before. And Venti could probably tell how much Xiao liked it by the way Xiao melted beneath the strokes, relaxing the second Venti’s hand pressed flat against a wing.
He missed that. A lot.
In the morning he stirred from the sound of birds and found himself still alone. His heart hurt for it; perhaps he shouldn’t have been expecting so much. A god had their own duties to attend to. Things to put care towards.
So why wasn’t Xiao one of them?
———
After a month and a half passed, Xiao found himself starting to lose hope. He was slipping, gradually, towards the conclusion that Venti would simply not be coming back at all. That somehow or another, he’d found someone else.
Someone else better than him, with the most beautiful of wings–ones much prettier than Xiao’s. Surely whoever he found would also be stronger, softer, nicer to be around.
But if that was true, then what were Xiao’s tattoos for? They were of the god’s design. They sprawled across his skin in clear teal and clever coils. Definitive proof of a choice made on fate’s part.
But something broke in Xiao a little more with every morning he woke alone. And he wished–messily, desperately–that he could only wake one day tucked in pure white, under the hands and care of the god. Because he missed him.
Because he loved him. And his heart hurt for it.
He wrote potential greetings in his head, for when he saw Venti again. He imagined the excitement of it. Throwing himself into the god’s arms with a smile so wide it hurt his face. What he’d tell him, how he’d hold the edges of Venti’s kind smile beneath his palms and say, “I missed you, I missed you, where were you?” until he got a response.
He rehearsed it. Repeated the scenario until it lost its sheen. Then he’d think of something else, words that would better suit their eventual reunion: “I missed you. I love you.” Then a kiss, to his cheek. “I love you.”
So until then. Until he could fulfill whatever imagined ideas he had, he’d just wait. The god had made a vow. He promised.
———
There was a meteor shower occurring tonight.
Such an event was rare. Legends painted them as good omens for prosperous futures to come. Indicators of positivity or change.
Xiao had seen the first tiny spark shoot across the sky earlier in the night, when he focused his eyes to it. In the coming minutes there were dozens more streaking across the black night. They reminded Xiao, a little, of the Lantern Rite–the lanterns up above. It made him appreciate the sight more.
But he was watching it alone.
It was inevitable to him at this point. Over the past months he’d toned down his expectations. Venti wouldn’t appear for every small thing Xiao witnessed or for the things Xiao wished he could be there for. A pretty sunrise or a nice flower. What he wanted to show Venti, insignificant as they were. He wouldn’t be here for a meteor shower either. Xiao would’ve asked if they could watch it together.
Xiao sat down, leaned against a tree and closed his eyes. And he was just…tired. Of lying awake at night, waiting. Of thinking Venti would appear at any moment to surprise him again.
He didn’t. It’d been two months and he still hadn’t. And Venti–he’d probably forgotten about Xiao, hadn’t he? He had his responsibilities, yes, but he’d left one of them behind. And Xiao didn’t want to be too dependent on him, but he was, he was, because the tattoos on his body defined home for him and it was Venti.
Something ached in his chest, tense. Constricted not painfully, but softly, like a gentle but constant reminder of the fact that Venti still hadn’t come back. And maybe it was his fault for having so much faith to the point it had him suffering like this. But he wanted that faith. Wanted to believe that Venti had been telling him the truth about this one thing, because that would’ve made his final words to Xiao true, too.
If he loved him, he’d come back.
The wind picked up. The tree Xiao was leaning against shifted slightly with a gust, branches scraping against each other. The waters of the pond nearby rippled. When the gust suddenly stopped, he didn’t even notice–he was thinking too deeply about Venti’s absence.
He almost didn’t hear the sound of steps. Almost.
Xiao opened his eyes slowly, looked up. And there, crouched near the edge of the pond, was Venti–his wings were stark white against the night sky, raised in a curve to the moon. There were white flowers in his hands, around his neck. His braids were undone. He turned and saw Xiao awake, and smiled, and the entire world shifted with just that smile.
The sight of Venti–his wings, his regalia, gentle expression–startled Xiao enough to make him flush red and involuntarily flare his wings out wide in presentation, plumage apparent in midnight and gold. He recognized the instinct: Impressing a mate, a lover.
And he fell forward afterward, tears immediately welling up in his eyes and pouring out, because Venti was here and not gone, and he hadn’t abandoned him for someone else. He was here and beautiful. Xiao’s face flushed redder from the tears and pure embarrassment for his instincts–his face fell into his hands to hide himself, wings quivering and falling back down.
Of course, Venti came over and cooed softly and gathered him up in his arms easily, letting him cry messily into his shoulder while stroking his hair. His wings had curled to his back but Venti petted the feathers there, in all the places he knew Xiao liked, while saying “What’s wrong?” and “Oh, sweetheart, don’t cry” as if he hadn’t been gone for two months. Like he hadn’t left Xiao all by himself for that long.
But Xiao still dug his face into his shoulder and cried and cried. The flowers around Venti’s neck rustled with him. He clawed at the fabric of Venti’s clothes and clenched tight at his chest as if it’d pull an answer out of him. And he reached for Venti’s wings, shoving his face into one just to feel their softness again. To make their reunion feel more real.
Venti let him cry himself out, gradually sinking to the ground and letting him sit against him in his lap. He hadn’t stopped stroking his wings even then. And it calmed Xiao down like it always did, made him relax and melt into his embrace as if it was just the simplest thing in the world.
Maybe it was. They had tattoos pertaining to the other on their bodies for a reason.
In the quiet, after all was said and done, Xiao rested his head on Venti’s lap. Looked up at him with tired eyes. Reached out and touched his cheek.
His voice was soft. “I missed you.”
Venti closed his eyes. “I know. The wind whispered to me about you.”
“Then why–” Xiao’s eyes welled up with tears again, “Why were you gone for so long? Couldn’t you–have returned? Just to tell me you are alright.”
“Certain things needed my attention,” Venti replied, brushing Xiao’s tears away. “But…I have thought about you every day. I missed you dearly.”
“You left me alone–”
“–I know. I know. I’m sorry.” He leaned down, pressed a kiss to Xiao’s cheek. “I’m sorry. It was never my intention to leave for so long. I should have only left for a couple of weeks at most. But my people…required my assistance.”
Xiao closed his eyes. “...I missed you.”
“I know, love. But I’ve returned. I am here. I will stay.”
“But this is not your land. You will be weaker here.”
Venti smiled. “Maybe so. But that is alright. I am here for you,” he said, reaching down to touch Xiao’s wings, “And these beautiful wings of yours. They have gotten even prettier and lighter since I have been gone. They remind me of the sun.”
Xiao could’ve started crying all over again at just those words. But he looked away instead, fighting off the urge. “...You lie. They are not beautiful.”
“But they are,” Venti replied, stroking the down. It made Xiao involuntarily shift and relax beneath his hand. “You showed me them earlier, when you saw me. You have the prettiest of wings. Loveliest of all birds. Of all angels.”
Xiao’s face flushed. “I…that was only instinct, earlier. I did not intend to show you them like that.”
“Oh? And what instinct is that?”
Venti was smiling at him like he already knew the answer. He didn’t say it, though. He only kept his palm pressed to Xiao’s wings, gaze lowered on his expression lovingly, watching, waiting.
“...To…” Xiao looked away. “To…court. Impress a lover.”
Venti just laughed at the words, teasing, reaching down to hold the sides of Xiao’s face. “–Then I am very impressed, sweetheart. You’re enchanting. I have been courted.” A kiss, to his lips, then a smile. “By the prettiest of all birds.”
Xiao blushed. “I…couldn’t be, Venti. You–you are…beautiful. Your wings are.”
Venti extended his, a little, and looked back at him. “Ah…then, Xiao, you should spread yours out for me. Show me them like you did before.” His gaze turned gentle. “I wish to see your wings in full display.”
“I-I couldn’t–”
“I will show you mine, if you do.”
Xiao trembled. Venti was smiling at him sweetly, and the temptation to do as he asked rose and fell within him with every breath he took. He wanted to. The urge shot through his heart and paralyzed any hesitation he had left–instinct taking over, clearly.
He pulled himself off Venti’s lap and sat up. The god watched him curiously, smiling, pressing a hand to his waist as if encouraging him to continue. It squeezed his waist lightly.
It was enough to make Xiao’s wings fly out in a wide arch to the sky. Venti looked as though he was in awe; he reached out slowly and pressed a hand to the down, patting it for a second like it was some sort of affirmation. Then he leaned back a little and did the same: Brilliant white contrasting against the dark.
Xiao started shaking at the sight. Maybe it was too much for his poor heart to handle. His wings drooped and fell back down, the temporary spell of his instincts wearing off.
He worried, for a split second, if Venti was disappointed that he’d stopped. But no. The god’s expression was of captivation. He caught Xiao at the jaw and kissed him.
It wasn’t a kiss to give him more air, this time. Or a soft peck to the lips. It lasted longer than all the rest. Venti kept leaning in, and leaning in, like he still wasn’t close enough, and his hand slipped to Xiao’s nape. The origin of his tattoos, again. He pressed lightly there, pulled away, and then kissed him again as if he hadn’t had quite enough yet.
Oh, Xiao didn’t know that kisses could feel like this. It was so…intimate. Like some part of his mind was softening a little. He let Venti peck his lips and cheeks afterward and felt himself smiling at the attentions, inevitably, because Venti being like that to him just felt so nice.
And he also blushed a little, because it seemed like one of his instinctual courting rituals had actually worked with Venti somehow.
Venti grasped his hand, pressed it to his cheek and smiled. “Your wings are truly beautiful. I have seen them spread many times now, and they have been beautiful every time.”
“Venti…”
“I love you, Xiao.” He closed his eyes. “I missed you.”
Xiao’s bottom lip quivered. “N-no, I’m sure I missed you more. A lot more. I have wanted to feel your embrace for a long time now.”
“ Xiao, love–”
“–I missed your touch, your voice, the–even just the sight of your wings. A-and the way you touch mine, how you pet my hair, hold me–” Xiao looked down. His wings drooped. “I have been so lonely out here. I had my duties to attend to but I felt like…you had forgotten about me. Left me behind for someone with…prettier wings, and who was more interesting than me–”
Venti immediately reached out and held his cheek. “I would never. I could never replace you in the first place. No one compares.”
“But I’m not–good,” Xiao said, scared of the words coming out of his mouth. “I have done many terrible things. I do not have anything to offer–not you, a god so much more powerful than I. I am not good enough. I do not deserve you.”
“Then what do you deserve?” Venti asked, leaning in. “Tell me what you believe you deserve.”
“A…” Xiao began, shakily. No words were even coming to mind. “Place…to sleep?”
Venti’s expression fell. He motioned at the ground. “Lie down.”
Xiao laid down. The grass was soft beneath him. Venti reached over and started pulling his shirt up, to which Xiao flinched and grabbed at his hand, but the look on Venti’s face told him he meant no harm.
Xiao let his hand go slowly. Venti’s fingers traced a fragile line across the tattoos marked on Xiao’s stomach, to his waist, the scar that spread across his chest. To the curls that split from the old wound.
Venti looked down at him. “You say you do not deserve me. But the marks on your body tell a different story. Fate makes no mistakes.”
“It’s–I’m–”
“–Worthy,” Venti interrupted, leaning down over him. “Deserving. Of me and the world before you. Worthy to bear the wings on your back. To have my touch. That is why my designs are etched on your skin.”
Venti looked at him. There was still hesitation on his face–like he couldn’t quite believe Venti’s sentiments. Like he had doubts in the workings of things utterly beyond them both.
If he did not believe Venti all the way, then Venti could at least demonstrate the realness of his claims.
“These fresh marks are the designs I left on you after healing your corruption,” Venti said, running a finger over his heartbeat, “You know they are new. Why do you have doubts?”
“My sins outweigh anything I could possibly deserve now. I don’t…think you understand where I am speaking from.”
“I do,” Venti replied, leaning down further, examining the skin there. He felt for a pulse. “Your heartbeat quickens. Why?”
“You’re–so close,” Xiao stammered. “I-I’m not used to being touched like this. It makes me nervous.”
“Hold on a moment longer, then.”
Venti pressed a kiss to the skin right above his heart. The edge of the fresh scar. From it, new tattoos emerged, small but definitive, across his skin. They ran from his heart to his collarbones in tiny cracks and swirls.
It was proof that Venti had been right. If fate had decided to give him such marks, and Venti could influence them so easily, then somehow, on some degree, he surely did deserve him. Even some higher power had come to that conclusion.
To that, Xiao covered his face with his hands. “I don’t…know what to do.”
“Believe me. Or, if you can’t believe what I say, then believe in what is on your own body. You can trust that.”
“How did you even–do that? Extend the marks?”
Venti pulled Xiao back up off the ground, pushed his shirt back down. “I couldn’t quite explain that to you, Xiao. The feeling just comes to me. It came to me when I healed your corruption. And…what you said earlier, when I asked you what you believed you deserved…” Venti tucked some hair behind his ear. “You do have a place to sleep: In my arms, if you’d like. Or hidden in my down. Anywhere.”
Xiao just blushed. “You are…too sweet to me.”
“Yet you seem to forget your own sweetness,” Venti replied smoothly. He stood from the ground and the flowers around his neck rustled.
There was a bundle of white flowers lying near the pond from earlier, when Venti had first appeared. It had been dropped in his hurry to gather Xiao in his arms.
Venti approached the bouquet, swept it off the ground, and plucked any shreds of grass left on the flowers. Vaguely, Xiao recognized the flowers themselves: Native to Venti’s land of wind, lost on high hills and cliffs. The flower he’d been gifted the morning he’d woken up alone two months ago.
Venti motioned him forward and tucked the bouquet into his hands, smiling a little. Fulfilling a promise.
Up above, a few stray stars still shot across the sky. Most of the shower had already passed–it was lost under their conversation. And perhaps the right moment had already passed him by, but there was a promise Xiao had to fulfill as well.
He had not told Venti about it. And he knew, just on the surface of his mind, that the words could not come a moment too soon.
He pressed the bouquet against his own chest, returned his smile, and then held a cheek and leaned in. Spoke softly.
“I love you, Venti.”
Perhaps two months of waiting had been worth the smile that blossomed on Venti’s face. The sheer adoration behind it. As if he’d been waiting to hear them for a long time.
He pressed their foreheads together. “Sweet angel that you are. Prettiest of all birds. I wonder how long you have recited those words in your mind. Is it as many times as I?”
“I have wanted to say it since I woke up without you. So…maybe we have thought it the same number of times.”
“Oh, sweetheart–”
“I-I wish, a little, that you hadn’t had to leave in the first place. I understand why you did. But I wanted to tell you I loved you.” Xiao swallowed and looked down. “I know I said I’d wait. It was just…difficult.”
Venti leaned in and kissed his cheek, soft. “...I am here now. Worry not. I will stay. I promise.” He pulled him in for a hug, pressed him into his shoulder, and Venti smelled like warmth and flowers. Some scent Xiao could lie in for a long, long time.
So he said the words, again, in reply to Venti’s promise. Spoke against his shoulder, muffled but loud enough for Venti to hear him. A hand trailed to his wings and stroked the down to soothe Xiao’s tense.
“I love you.”