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“You're not my brother. Stop acting like it.” said Diluc with a fiery expression, vision glowing a warning red.
“Ouch master Diluc. So cold.” He knew he was playing with literal fire. He knew he should stop poking the metaphorical bear. He knew ... and yet he couldn't stop. He need Diluc’s acknowledgement he need to know that he is still there, the he doesn't look like he is drowning every moment of the day.
“Get out.” He stands up as Diluc gets up from behind the bar counter to walk him out, well more like throw him out. “Don’t come here again” they both know damn well that next night Diluc’s on bartending he will be there to annoy him again.
This is the sort of dance they fell into after that happened. Diluc would bartend a few days a month and Kaeya would come and drink at the bar, sometimes they would share some looks while others they would argue.
Kaeya cherished these moments. Moments where he could forget the battle inside him, the sorrows and burdens placed upon him, he could just be Kaeya. Not captain Kaeya, not the hope of Khaenri’ah. Not anyone else.
But some nights his tongue got the better of him and he’d nitpick anything his brother did. Not that he wanted them to argue but this way he could acknowledge his presence. He wouldn’t be just another patron at the bar.
Now hit with the coldness of the night he regrets not being able to apologize to his ex-brother. It’s not like he didn't truly but every time he’d try and verbalize the words would get stuck in his throat clogging even his thinking.
Walking slowly, staring at the pavement he could not muster up the faux confidence the captain would have. He decided then to take the alleyways. He didn't want to hear Donna talking about Diluc or the Dark Knight, nor could he pretend to be the someone she'd want. He needed to upkeep the confident and flirty facade he's so carefully constructed.
Walking slowly he contemplated if he should just quit and move in a vain attempt to escape the stress of every move he’d make. His mind was in a constant war over what side he was on. Should he side with Mondstadt or his home land? There probably isn't someone waiting for him in his homelands province. He wasn't even sure if he could find a cure for the hilichurls.
Opening his front door he looked at the barren place where he lived. He’d only bothered to furnish the place with the bare necessities. The kitchen wasn’t even full of food or ingredients, only full of leftovers that he'd eat for breakfast. He never liked to stay in his house. It didn’t feel like the place he could live in.
Taking off his boots and cape he went to the bedroom to change into his only night clothes. He laid on his too stiff mattress with his too thin blanket and stared at the only picture in his house, a picture of him and Diluc playing in the vineyard. It was taken and given to him by Adeline, his closets and only mother figure.
Staring at the picture he could only wish “Luc” would be here with him, that the happy brother was here to cheer him up, unknowing of the troubles plaguing his mind. The one who wouldn't care for him, that would hug and comfort him. The one who accepted him without condition.
But people change. They do not stay the same forever. Just as the winds change, people do too. Some grow together in face of it while others drift apart either to never cross paths again or to converge together later in life. Such may not be his luck as he may face irreversible changes soon.
The threat of them has always stood above him. Now with Dainslaif knowing of his existence, one of the few that knew the implications of his name, and the travelers meddling in other people's business he may not see many more days of peace.
He knew that soon his ‘perfect’ life will crumble, when the lies that make up his person will crumble to the ground, when his loyalties will be questioned, when they'll doubt his actions. He knows that day is soon but he cannot accept it.
Despite how much everyday hurts, how much every meeting with Diluc rips his heart in fifteen pieces he will continue to hold onto the thin strings that keep it all together, strings that dig and hurt, on which he tugs on desperately trying to not let his flaws slip through cracks.
Closing his eyes just brings forth the images of his childhood, the barren and burnt land where he was born to the lush green grape vines he grew up on tp the blazing fire that lit inside his brother the day he became a disappointment and a lone wolf, forever to live within his memories yet never to experience real human connection in fear of the loss he may feel.
One may not understand the pain and sorrows that plague the lazy cavalry captain that sells his soul to work, who despite the looks from the outside works longer and then even the grandmaster. He is bound to be forever alone, to suffer in silence, to watch his heart bleed out for those he held dear as they press cold ice shards into the wounds, to watch as they get over him and don't seem to suffer the same pain as him.
Tonight he closes his eyes, cristaline tears trailing down his pale cheeks as he dreams of countless carefree days and futures where he’d leave the knights and manage the winery as was planned, knowing full well the next day he’ll wake up, go to a job where he is but a shadow to be compared to Diluc, then visit angel share in his last vain attempts to see his beloved ‘luc’.