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You are loved.
That’s what the emerald-eyed young man says with a smile on his face as he passes you in the Akademiya halls, no doubt running some errand.
He doesn’t know everything you’ve done, you tell him later as you both sit in the Puspa Cafe. He has no idea the atrocities you’ve committed.
He doesn’t care. He still loves you, comes his reply. He’s smiling. Always smiling, that busy little bee.
He’s as bright as the sun, and you can’t help but feel like nothing more than the moon reflecting his brilliance.
Somehow he seems to know your thoughts. The ones that tell you that you are lesser than him. He reminds you again.
You love him, and he loves you.
~~~~~
You are loved.
That’s what the white-haired young woman says as she pats you on the shoulder. She must be off for Fontaine soon, but she tells you not to forget that she’ll always return.
She’s a human now, no longer an Archon, and there will come a time when she either never returns to you or never returns to Fontaine. Still, she delivers her beautiful lie of a “see you again” with a smile on her lips and tears in her ocean eyes.
She’s so similar and yet so different. She’s a puppet on a string, you’re an actual puppet. She’s just human enough, you’ll always be too human and not human enough at the same time. She has a heart of gold, you don’t have a heart at all.
Stop saying that, she scoffs. A physical heart isn’t what makes someone human, in her opinion at least. And that’s more than enough for you.
You love her, and she loves you.
~~~~~
You are loved.
That’s what the carefree bard, being earnest for once, says as he sits in a tree beside you, an apple in his hand.
Something in his gaze tells you he knows more about you than he lets on. The something in his gaze isn’t hatred or worse, pity. Just wistful sorrow.
Something in his being makes you suspect that he’s not quite as human as he claims to be. Perhaps he’s like you, pretending to be something he is not.
Something in his words of care and love soothes the aches of the wounds in your heart. The load in your heart feels lightened as he holds you close.
When he’s not with you, the wind itself seems to comfort you. The gentle breeze caresses your skin when you need a loving touch, and you have the sneaking suspicion he has something to do with it.
You love him, and he loves you.
~~~~~
You are loved.
That’s what the usually sharp-tongued woman whispers gently when she witnesses one of your rare breakdowns in a quiet corner of the Akademiya.
She doesn’t feel exactly what you feel, but she’s somewhat similar.
Lost in time, left behind, out of depth in a place that doesn’t really feel like home. Blessed by the wind, for reasons unknown.
Lonely but loved, she says as she gently cards through your hair. Flawed fingers through flawless strands of indigo.
Why does she love you? You don’t know. Why do you love her? You don’t know either. Perhaps it’s these moments of shared solitude where neither of you are as great as you make yourselves to be, but you both revel in a simple truth.
You love her, and she loves you.
~~~~~
You are loved.
That’s what the wandering samurai tells you as you sit on a random person’s roof together, gazing up at the stars. You see his constellation, burning bright in the sky.
How can he love you, when you were quite literally the downfall of his clan? The reason why his bloodline ends with him?
He shakes his head, telling you that it’s much easier to let go of the past than to stubbornly cling on to it.
You both make your escape, laughing, after the property owner angrily chases you off. Few people can get a genuine laugh out of you, and it’s fitting that one of those people is the descendant of the first human who showed you what it means to truly be happy.
You give him a slight smile, an expression of that true happiness.
You love him, and he loves you.
~~~~~
You are loved.
That’s what the Traveler says as she ties a strip of cloth around your bleeding arm after you and her spar with Childe for the nth time. She speaks softly to you, in a way few ever have.
Even though you’ve told the Traveler time and time again that your wounds will vanish and leave behind nothing but perfect porcelain skin, the golden-haired young woman still bandages the wounds from which sparkling violet trickles.
In reality, the reason you are so against this gentle treatment is because you don’t deserve kindness after all the sins you’ve committed. You tell her just that with a broken quiet voice.
The Traveler is usually silent, showing emotion through expressions or actions. But she speaks, when she reminds you.
You love her, and she loves you.
~~~~~
You are loved.
That’s what they all say to you as they gather around you for your birthday. The day itself is insignificant to you. You don’t really see the point, since nothing was even born on that day except a heartless puppet.
So why do you smile ever so slightly?
Because people who love you are spending time with you even if it inconveniences them. Some taking time off their jobs, some travelling long journeys.
The Traveler even bought a cake. You eat a tiny slice, if only to oblige her.
It tastes sweet, but the people around you are infinitely more special than the taste on your artificial tongue.
Deserving or not, heartless or not…
You are loved.
~~~~~