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Lyney kisses her first.
It is sudden, and no doubt unplanned. He's delirious, pumped full of a catastrophic combination of both adrenaline and painkillers in the wake of his first ever rebellion against his Father, and he's only barely awake to boot.
Arlecchino hadn't pulled her punches against any of her children during their battle, but Lyney had by far gotten the worst of it. He'd been more occupied with protecting his siblings and serving as an impromptu shield when needed rather than actually attacking, and the results showed, because as soon as it had been over; as soon as he'd clarified their positions to the Knave, his body had given up on him and he'd collapsed then and there in Lumine's arms.
He hadn't necessarily passed out, but he had been unable to move, his breathing strained and ragged due to his battered body and broken ribs, and Lumine thinks she spotted the barest, miniscule hints of concern within Arlecchino’s cross-slitted eyes and stoic face as she'd walked over to help Lumine steady her son.
They'd walked him back to the hotel, where his siblings were waiting, Freminet immediately rushing off to fetch a doctor on the Knave’s clipped orders while Lynette looked about ready to pass out herself at the sight of her brother. Had Lumine not been a twin herself, she might have called it twin telepathy.
Lyney protests all the while, of course. Or at least, he protests as well as he can while barely being able to string a coherent sentence across his battered tongue. Still, his stubbornness only gets him as far as his own sister slipping him a particularly strong set of painkillers, and his eyes start to droop as soon as they manage to wrestle him into his hotel bed.
Lumine had thought it to be over then, her heart pounding rapidly in her chest as she watches the magician futilely struggle against his own exhaustion. She doesn't quite know what's got him so scared, why he refuses to let go so heavily, but she does know that he's a lot stronger than he lets on, and it shows especially now.
“Rest, Lyney.” The Knave orders sharply, the authority in her voice enough to have the shivers running down even Lumine's spine. She remembers the crimson moon, feels the sting of her own injuries and tries not to think too hard of the fact that she had, in fact, lost. “The doctor will be here soon. Don't fight it.”
Lyney relaxes at that, for as much as it can be called relaxing. He's stiff, frozen and body locked taut tangled in the sheets as he is, and Lumine wonders if maybe he too is remembering the wicked edge of the Knave's scythe closing in on them.
“Please,” Lynette adds softly, looking by all means as if she's about to cry, the most emotional Lumine has ever seen her, and that seems to be the final nail in the coffin.
Lyney relaxes, for real this time, and as he settles into the hotel bed and his eyes start to droop again, Lumine takes the gamble and makes her way over towards his bed. Her touch is delicate as she grips his crumpled sheets, easily smoothing them and laying them over him with practiced movements if only to get him at his most comfortable. She’s dealt with broken ribs and internal bleedings before, and she knows for a fact that they are not pleasant.
She hears him mumble something when she turns to move away, and the traveler doesn't think much of it as she hums in question and steps closer to where his head is resting against the pillows, bending in order to limit the strain to his voice as he repeats himself and entirely forgetting her own earlier conclusion.
Lyney is a lot stronger than he lets on, even when seriously injured.
His arms wind around her shoulders, grip surprisingly secure for how much they are trembling, and Lumine barely has the time to blink before he's pulling her into him. His lips are chapped and cold as they touch hers, surely not a good sign, but she can't bring herself to move, far too stunned by the sudden action for her brain to even process the fact that they're not alone; that Paimon and Lynette are still here; that Arlecchino is still here.
(It is that last part that truly solidifies just how high the painkillers have made Lyney. No way would he have dared to even think of something like this in front of the Fourth.)
“Thank you,” he breathes against her lips when they part, ragged and gasping between strained breaths. His pupils are blown wide from the sheer amount of drugs that had been pumped into him, yet that lilac stare of his still somehow looks strikingly clear. “For everything, chérie. Truly, you are magnificent.”
Lumine only stares at him, golden eyes wide and stunned and body locked entirely in place as she grips the edges of his bed. She doesn't move even when his eyes roll back, finally allowing himself to concede and lose the fight as he passes out against the sheets, and it is a testament to how unexpected his actions had been, because even then the room remains as eerily silent as it had been the moment he'd put his hands on her.
Lynette is the first to snap out of it, but only barely. Her touch is hesitant as it lands on Lumine's shoulder, and when the traveler looks over, the other twin’s face is molded into an expression she hadn't seen before. She can recognize some mortification, at least, and she wonders if that is also one of Lynette's modes.
“I…” she starts, looking from Lumine to her twin passed out on the bed and back. “I am so sorry, Lumine.”
“It's…okay,” Lumine eventually says, pushing herself away from the bed and straightening the shawl he had messed up. “He’s- he's high. He probably doesn't know what he's doing.”
“No,” Lynette says, hesitating only for the moment it takes her to glance over at the Knave, who hadn't moved or said anything this entire time aside from an inquisitive eyebrow raise. “I think he did know. He…he hasn't stopped talking about you ever since we first met.”
Lumine blinks. “Oh.”
“Yes.”
“Good!” Paimon eventually declares, breaking the awkward silence, and Archons, does Lumine love the little fairy. She'd honestly give up everything within a heartbeat for her, but she is so damningly tactless at times. “Lumi hasn't stopped talking about him, either!”
Immediately, the traveler's face flushes. “Paimon!”
“What? It's true!”
The clicking of sharp-edged heels silences their bickering quickly enough, the implications of it enough to have Lumine freezing on the spot even within her own mortification as she's promptly reminded of the Knave's intimidating presence.
When she turns, however, it is to find Arlecchino walking past her with an unreadable expression on her usually stoic face. She stops at Lyney's bedside, Lynette's ears flattening just the slightest bit as she moves over to make room. The Fourth only looks down at her son though, her poker-face far more immaculate than Lyney's own, before she sighs and shakes her head.
“This…certainly complicates things,” is all she says when she takes her leave, and Lumine swears, she couldn't have looked more like a tired and disgruntled father than she had in that moment.
Lumine kisses him second, and ironically, it is just as impulsive as the first had been.
“It was real?!” Lyney squeaks sharply, wide-eyed and red-faced as he stares back at his sister, just a mere few days after making a full recovery from his injuries.
“Yes,” Lynette says, looking entirely unimpressed as she flicks him on the forehead. “It was, unfortunately, entirely real.”
Lyney sputters, the words, for once, not coming to either him or his silver-tinged tongue as his poor brain attempts to compute what his twin is telling him. “I-I thought it was a dream! That's why I- oh, oh Archons.”
No wonder Father had called for him just a mere day after his recovery. She'd absolutely grilled him on his loyalties and whether or not he was aware of just what organization he was part of; what things possibly would be expected of him should the situation call for it.
Lyney had thought it odd, given that he was fairly certain he'd made his alliances clear that very same day he'd attempted to shoot an arrow point-blank at her face, but he'd played along anyway, certain that she was going somewhere he simply hadn’t caught sight of yet.
Only after Lyney had obediently answered all her quizzing and given what had been apparently the right answers had Father let him go, no further explanation given as she'd dismissed him, and it had honestly been nagging at the poor magician's brain ever since.
Why would she quiz him like that so soon after he'd made things clear? Had he given her any other reason to distrust him? Lyney certainly wouldn't think so, considering he'd been out cold for the better part of a week.
Lynette's words, however, tell otherwise, and Lyney is sure he feels a little light-headed.
“Why are you telling me this now, my dear, dear sister?” The magician almost hisses, only partially restrained as he is positively panicking. He paces their living room, fingers digging into his hair beneath his hat and he’s so worked up, he barely even feels Rosseland swiping at his hand with a disgruntled yowl. “I'm supposed to go see her in less than an hour!”
“Dunno,” Lynette shrugs, but there's mischief in her eyes, and Lyney loves her, he truly does, but sweet Tsaritsa is she awful sometimes. “I figured it would look far worse if you showed up pretending like nothing had happened at all.”
“That's-” Lyney stops mid-sentence, finger raised as he turns towards his sister to protest, but stops when he realizes with a quickly growing sense of dread that she is, in fact, right. His finger curls back into his fist, and he curses. “...true. Gods, Lynette, how am I ever supposed to face her now?!”
“Like you always have,” she tells him dryly, not bothered in the slightest by his quickly growing and increasingly more frantic protests as she comes up behind him and starts pushing him out the door. “Good luck, brother. Don’t forget Freminet looks up to you.”
She shuts the door in his face, locking it for good measure, and this time, when Lyney considers how much he loves his twin sister, he has to actively remind himself of that fact.
Luckily for him, intervention comes in the form of a group of treasure hoarders Lumine had apparently had history with before. They’ve barely set foot into Fontaine's grasslands when they get ambushed, entirely on their own because Paimon had oh so ‘coincidentally’ gotten a stomach ache right before Lumine was set to leave. Lumine herself had seemed rather flustered when relaying the story to him, her cheeks tinted the barest hints of red as she consistently avoided his gaze and seemed to be brushing her bangs out of her face quite a bit.
Honestly, the energy between them was so tense, so awkward and far from anything it had ever been before that Lyney is actually somewhat glad for the interruption.
The change is immediate, and it is positively fascinating to boot. Lumine’s eyes narrow into thin slits as the treasure hoarders crowd them, trusty sword immediately at her side. Lyney is fairly certain he can pinpoint the exact moment she forgets his presence almost entirely, her warrior’s blood leaving no room for petty things like embarrassment and unnamed relationships, and when she lunges, he almost feels a sense of pity for the fools that had dared to cross her twice.
He's quick to react himself as he pulls out his bow and backs up just enough to still have proper aim, but leaves enough room for the traveler to take the abundant amount of space he's by now learned she most definitely needs.
(He ignores the way his muscles scream in protest as he pulls the string of his bow taut, pretends not to notice the way his breathing lags just a little when he releases the first shot into his target's leg.)
Lumine owns the battlefield, swift and quick with her blade as she is, and perhaps that, as well as Lyney's own steadily growing troubles, have made him complacent, because he's not nearly as focused as he should be.
He's distracted between every shot, only ever focusing on what's in front of him and not checking his surroundings in the slightest. Father would've had his head for this were she here to see this, and for good reason too, because predictably enough, as Lyney downs another large fellow creeping up on Lumine with his arrows, he entirely fails to notice the one hovering behind his own vantage point, and he only realizes when he's already flat on his back.
Lyney hits the ground hard, the air leaving his lungs in a far more violent manner than his body can handle at the moment. He gasps, head spinning from both the lack of oxygen and the sheer force of the hit, but even then Father's voice rings sharp in his ears. She sounds a lot angrier now, definitely disappointed, and he's driving on pure instinct when he hastily grabs one of his arrows and manually jabs it into his opponent's side with a helping hand of Pyro as the hulking figure attempts to descend on him.
He snaps his fingers next, his remaining set of arrows exploding around them and blasting the treasure hoarder a good distance away from him. It certainly wouldn't kill his victim of choice, but Lyney can't exactly say the man will have much of a good day either when he eventually does wake up.
“Lyney!” Lumine calls, a touch of panic to her voice and oh, maybe she hadn’t forgotten him after all.
He hears a grunt, followed by the devastating sound of the blunt edge of her sword hitting her opponent in the collarbone, and then Lumine is rushing for him; at his side quicker than he had been able to breathe and perhaps Celestial speed is another thing he needs to add to his growing list of interesting things about her.
“You said you were okay!” She hisses, panic in her eyes as she falls into the grass next to him. Her golden gaze trails over his body, lingering especially where his own hands are covering his side and the panic quickly turns into something dangerously close to sorrow.
Lyney decides he doesn't like that look. “I am,” he tells her between gritted teeth. He attempts to straighten himself, biting back the hiss that nearly slips at the sudden sharp sting of pain and considers that he's now officially broken his promise never to lie to her again. “I'm just…sore, chérie. Don't worry.”
He doesn't tell her that he'd been warned as soon as he'd been cleared. Doesn't tell her that the doctor assigned to him had given him the okay to walk around and resume his daily tasks, but that he in no way should be running or sneaking around on missions, and that he explicitly shouldn't be engaging in fights of any sort.
Lynette had banned him from the stage as a result, only allowing him to smile and be the poster boy and performing simple tricks like keeping the audience's attention and sleight of hand while Lynette kept up with the more complicated ones. Father, in turn, had assigned Freminet to the House’s more demanding missions while Lyney was left on indefinite leave for now, and that one especially had left a bitter taste in the magician's mouth, as regardless of Freminet’s official role within their group, Lyney couldn't say he was very fond of the thought of his little brother having so much blood on his hands.
Lyney is usually a stickler for doing as he's told- a proper system can't be built on a foundation of disobedience, after all. When it comes to his family, however, he is always, always the first one to break away from order if he thinks it will protect those he loves, and it is as much an admirable trait as it is a flaw.
“Right,” Lumine bites, far rougher than is perhaps wise as she shoves his hands away to reveal the spot where blood has started seeping through his stitches. “Because this is just the perfect picture of a sore muscle.”
“Okay,” he gasps, pushing at the grass to lift himself and failing only slightly, his back resting against a nearby rock. “Okay, perhaps I'm not as fine as I said I was.”
He winces, and Lumine immediately responds by undoing her scarf and reaching over him.
Lyney hurries to stop her, his hand pressing against her wrist before she can tie it around his waist. “Don't.”
“Shut up,” Lumine says, pushing his hand away.
“It's white.”
“Shut. Up.”
“Lumine.”
She pauses, her face scrunching, and even when she's glaring at him, even when her pretty, golden eyes start welling with unshed tears, the sun reflects off of her perfectly, and Lyney thinks the only time she's looked more beautiful was when she'd boldly defended him and his siblings from certain death.
(Which, he notes, has happened a staggering total of three times now.)
Her grip on her scarf tightens, the strength in it enough for the fabric to crumple to a near unrecognizable state as she stares at him, and Lyney's eyes widen when the first tear makes its way down her cheek.
“You stupid, stupid man,” she sniffles, just before she bends to press her lips against his.
Lyney freezes for the first few beats, and then for the following two. He's frozen stiff, not having expected this turn of events at all, but her teeth nip lightly at his bottom lip, and Lyney knows he is a liar; knows that it is pretty much his entire thing, but Archons he couldn't ever say that he hated the feeling.
Having Lumine's mouth on him feels nice, Lyney decides quickly, and even through the pain he doesn't hesitate to lift his free hand to press against her cheek, his own eyes closing in content as he kisses her back in earnest.
Needless to say, it ends too quickly in his opinion, and the magician is not ashamed to admit he chases her lips when she pulls back. The only thing that stops him is the almost literal thorn in his side, however, and he considers that maybe, just maybe, he really should be resting as well as he'd been told. If it meant no restrictions when kissing Lumine, he really sees no genuine downsides to it.
The traveler flicks at his hat enough for it to tilt upwards, his flushed face and wide eyes on full display as she glares down at him. “Don't you ever,” she starts, terrifying grip locking onto his bow tie. Her voice cracks, and it's clear she's not just talking about the treasure hoarders. “Ever scare me like that again, Lyney.”
And Lyney can only nod hastily, barely breathing and entirely entranced as he stares back at her.
“Cross my heart,” he exhales breathlessly, wide lilac eyes entirely lovestruck as they meet gold.
He can still taste her on his lips. “Hope to die.”
Lyney kisses her again a mere three weeks later, smack dab in the middle of the city, and truly, the magician hadn't ever considered himself to be the jealous type.
Admittedly, she doesn't seem to be thinking much when she sees him again. Isn't thinking of the implications of her actions or how it might look to others; how it already had looked as early as their first meeting in Liyue.
Her friendship with Childe is an odd one, Lyney had realized that as early as Meropide- or perhaps, looking back, even earlier than that. Lumine's name had come up a lot among the Fatui’s ranks when she'd first made her appearance, and it had only intensified after her first clash with Childe, mainly because of the Harbinger himself.
(Lyney remembers walking into Father's office one day and for the first time in his life seeing her actually looking exhausted. When asked why, she'd merely said something about the Eleventh and his latest obsession with his ‘comrade’, refusing to elaborate as she'd rubbed at her temples.
He also remembers walking past Childe once, entirely bruised and battered as he'd just made it out of Liyue, but even with the severeness of his injuries, the man had looked nothing short of absolutely delighted as he'd rambled on about the one person that had blatantly kicked his ass and that, honestly, might have been the first time Lyney had found himself mildly curious about this enigmatic ‘Traveler’.)
Lumine, in turn, talks of the Harbinger with an odd mixture of both annoyance and fondness. She'd never admit it, but it had been clear just how worried she'd been for Childe during both his arrest and his disappearance; how uneasy seeing him at death's door had made her.
So when she sees him wandering Fontaine's streets again, looking a lot healthier this time and not coughing his lungs out, the sheer relief she feels is near tangible, and it is also the one thing that has her breaking away from Lyney and rushing towards the Harbinger.
Childe turns at the sound of her footsteps, and the way his own eyes, notoriously dull and unsettling, light up leaves a bitter taste in the magician's mouth.
“Can't stay away, can you?” Lumine teases lightly, grin wide and telling as she playfully taps his shoulder with enough force to cripple a lesser man.
Childe, of course, takes it in stride, and that's exactly how she knows that yes, he's fully healed and ready to go. “Girlie!” He replies cheerfully, a much healthier glow to his face. “How can I, knowing that you'd be here?”
Paimon scoffs at that, her arms crossing in blatant disapproval. “Smooth talker.”
Childe only smirks. “Good to see you too, Paimon.”
The fairy's disdain should be telling enough, honestly. She's intricately tied to Lumine as much as Lynette is to him, and so oftentimes, it is far easier to read Lumine by simply choosing to read Paimon instead.
Lyney is admittedly more of a smooth-talker than Childe had shown so far, he knows that very well, and Paimon's only response towards his own blatantly obvious flirtations had been nothing more than light eye rolls and knowing looks shot into Lumine's direction.
Lumine's response should be far more telling too, as she only raises her brows at the Harbinger in amusement, far different from the adorably flustered and wide-eyed looks she gives whenever Lyney says anything of a similar sort.
(He especially likes the times her face flushes a sharp red and she starts avoiding his eyes, choosing instead to toy with either her hair or the gems on her clothing. Lumine is a person well in touch with her own emotions, so those moments are few and far in between, but whenever it does happen, Lyney absolutely can’t get enough of it.)
She never shies away from his touch, never bats so much as an eye when he dips into her space with a flirty smile and an offered rose. Not even when he'd first kissed her, delirious and weak-limbed as he'd been, had she ever made the move to push him away. Childe, on the other hand, uses their blatant height difference to playfully ruffle her hair, and she's immediately batting at his hands in annoyance.
It's like night and day, the way she treats them, and it should reassure him, it really should…yet the Harbinger's flirty words and casual touches do nothing but agitate the magician.
Lyney doesn't say or do anything as he watches them, having been taught early on to pick his battles. Childe outranks him in almost every way; starting a fight here would only bring trouble to Father and besides, the magician doesn’t think Lumine would be very happy with him either.
Still, even as he hangs back, back pressed against the wall and clever fingers focused on idle cardistry, he picks up on how animatedly the two talk to each other, how relaxed the traveler is and how eagerly Childe seems to glow underneath her attention. Picks up on the casual comfort they seem to share, and truly, Lyney wishes Freminet was here; if only because he's proven himself to be far less a stickler for the rules than Lyney is.
“I should get going now.” Childe tells her eventually, and far too sweetly. His hand falls on her hair again, and while Lumine frowns up at him in annoyance, she doesn’t bat it away this time. “I’m looking forward to our next weekly rendezvous. I’m fully healed now, girlie…I won’t be holding back.”
Lyney is sure he must have misheard, his brain absolutely short-circuiting and fingers going slack at the implications left by Childe’s words and undeniably flirty tone. Their weekly what?!
(Never mind the fact that Childe’s grin had been unnecessarily sharp as he’d said that, nor the fact that his dull blue eyes had been filled with a look of sheer mischief as he’d stared directly back at Lyney. The magician had been far too locked in on the casual way he’d touched her to even notice, cards lying in a flourish around him, and that had probably been exactly what he’d been hoping for.)
Lumine only rolls her eyes, far too oblivious to Lyney's quickly growing crisis as she waves him off. “We’ll see,” is all she says.
(And Lyney swears, he might have just died on the spot then and there.)
He'd always been praised for his creative mind- it was the one prominent thing responsible for all his shows and tricks after all. Right now, however, Lyney considers his never-ending idea pool to be nothing short of a curse, as Childe's suggestive goodbye has done absolutely nothing to quell the raging scenarios of just what these ‘rendezvous’ of theirs could entail.
“Lumine,” he eventually calls, long after the Harbinger had left and they have resumed what was essentially meant to be a belated tour of everything Fontaine has to offer. She'd happily made her way over back towards him as soon as Childe had waved her off; had even questioned Lyney on his odd silence and why he didn't come and say hello with her and clearly entirely missing the source of Lyney's ire.
He hadn't found it in himself to burst her innocent bubble right there, once more breaking his promise of never lying to her again as he merely says something about not wanting to interrupt their reunion. The way Lumine scans over him is skeptical, but she seems to buy it, and so Lyney hastily pushes them past the topic of Childe and urges them to continue their walk.
But Childe’s words keep ringing through his ears no matter how hard he tries to distract himself, and eventually, Lyney can't take it anymore.
Lumine turns rather quickly, either picking up on the strange edge to his voice or the notable lack of endearments as he'd called for her. Confusion, Lyney finds, looks rather adorable on her rosy cheeks and golden eyes, but he only has a split second to admire it before his resolve kicks in and then he's wrapping his arm around her waist and pressing his mouth against hers.
Unlike the last two times, when both of them had been too stunned to react properly at first, Lumine doesn't hesitate to kiss him back this time. A startled noise of surprise is the only sound close to protest she makes, but then her own arms are coming up around Lyney's neck and her eyes fall closed.
Briefly, Lyney thinks he can hear the sounds of gasps and a tiny squeak followed by the tell-tale sound of disappearing starglitter, but he can hardly focus. There's a lot of white noise going around him anyway, standing in the center of Lucine as they are.
(His mind, creative and dangerous and traitorous as it is, momentarily considers the age old tradition of couples coming to this very place for a variety of reasons. Solidifying their love, celebrating life, introducing new life and truly, he has to cut this short before he starts entertaining thoughts far more dangerous than this.)
When he pulls back, Lumine is flushed a delicious red and staring up at him incredulously. Lyney doesn't think much, still running on sheer autopilot and maybe a touch of adrenaline as he reaches over and places his hat onto her hair, secure and completely covering the ruffled look it'd had from when Childe had messed with it.
“There,” the magician declares happily, a touch breathless. “Absolutely radiant, if I do say so myself.”
Lumine doesn't seem too amused. “In public, Lyney?!” She hisses lowly, cheeks flaming and fingers pulling at his hat just the slightest bit further over her eyes.
Lyney doesn't bother reminding her that their last two kisses hadn't been exactly private, either. “About time, don't you think?” He tells her instead, but pauses shortly after when she fails to respond immediately.
The cheeky and confident act falls, anxiety kicking in and his voice turning unsure. Lyney knows they're being watched, knows just how much of a spotlight he had inadvertently ended up putting on them with his little stunt, but to him, it's as if it's just them. Just him and her.
His next question is a whisper, and if he'd had his hat, he'd be fiddling with the rim of it. “Are you okay with that?”
And Lumine pauses, too. Her eyes, golden and eerily captivating, peer up at him from beneath the rim. She looks at him, at the people trying their hardest to pretend they aren't watching them and failing miserably, turns back to him, and then the color to her face intensifies even further as she looks away. “Well…” she starts, kicking at the ground aimlessly. “I can't say I’ve been resisting you either…”
The relief hits him like a flood, and this time, when he exhales and presses his lips to hers in a shorter and far more chaste kiss, he at least has the excuse that this time, the impulse had been driven by sheer joy.
(Later, Paimon tells him far too smugly that the weekly meetings Lumine and Childe share are nothing more than sparring matches which more often than not end with Lumine putting Childe into the ground. That he doesn't need to be worried.
Lyney pretends like he has no idea what Paimon's talking about.)
“What is this, Lyney?” She asks him one day, perched neatly on the countertop while she watches him scurry around his kitchen and setting up the dining table.
“Dinner,” he answers, far more absentminded and perhaps even jittery than she's known him to be.
Lumine rolls her eyes. “Not what I meant.”
He pauses then, his hand hovering over the table as he places down a set of wine glasses. He isn't looking at her. “...a date.”
“A date.”
“Yes,” he sighs, finally giving in and turning to face her. The glasses are left forgotten on the table, as are the plates, but he's still avoiding her eyes, and he doesn't make the move to step closer. “A date, chérie. This was meant to be…a discussion point, of sorts.”
Her brows rise, but she doesn't comment on his awkwardness. Lyney's rather cute when he's flustered, she's found, and while she does enjoy his silver tongue, she'll be the last to push him back on track whenever he gets like this.
“A discussion point for what?” She presses, despite likely knowing full well what he's getting at. Her own palms feel sweaty against the marble tops after all.
“Us,” he answers, far stronger this time, and Lumine doesn't dare take her eyes off him when he finally approaches her. Lyney stops right in front of her, lilac eyes charged as he places his hands on either side of her on the counter and leans in. “Whatever this is.”
“Us?” She parrots, sure she must be sounding like a broken record by now, but Lyney doesn't move, and she realizes with a start that he's entirely serious.
(Part of her thinks it should be obvious; that this is unnecessary. But then she considers his line of work, how easily the flattery and flirtations come to him, and considers that maybe, he's been played with too much. The lines blur too deeply, and so maybe a clear discussion like this might be exactly what he needs.)
She's much slower when she reaches for him this time, her hands always directly where he can see them. Lyney follows the movement with his eyes, swallowing lightly, but never doing anything to stop her, and so Lumine presses her palm gently against his cheek, caressing the skin softly as she pulls him in close enough for him to feel the words against his skin. A secret whispered between the both of them.
“What do you want to be?” She asks him, and she's startled by just how quickly the answer comes.
“Yours.” He's absolutely breathless, pupils blown and lilac eyes quickly flitting back and forth as they scan her face for any sign of rejection. His face is probably as flushed as hers, grip on the counter tight and unforgiving, but Lumine only smiles warmly, head falling into a nod as she dips her head and kisses him square on the mouth.
Lyney responds eagerly, hesitating for only a second before his hands relocate to her thighs, and when Lumine makes room for him, he easily steps into the space she grants.
They part just enough for him to see the golden glow of her eyes, their bodies still intricately intertwined, and her smile is absolutely dazzling as she tells him “Then that's what you will be.”
Lyney blinks up at her exactly once, his brain clearly processing what is decidedly not a rejection. When he finally does, he absolutely beams at her, and Lumine can hardly breathe as he fully leans into her body and seals their promise with another kiss.
One, she notes quite happily, that is far from being the last.