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"Du siehst nicht so gut aus, Liebling. Was ist los?" Xiao searched in the back of his mind for an indicator of how he should respond. He stared at the other, almost offended (but he never could be, not when it's Venti) as he scrunched up his face. Words were at the tip of his tongue, but all he could do was press his mouth in a tight line, crossing his arms.
"Don't you think it's time you answer that question for once?" The monotony in his voice was something that he wanted to keep out, but ultimately failed to do. Xiao wasn't sure why his heart sped up, or why his mouth felt dry and his teeth itchy. He raised his hand up, pressing his fingers against his lips, to subtly create a sensation other than those few annoying ones.
Venti just looked at him. Same as always. A small smile, a sweet bend of his eyebrows, and his eyes just slightly narrowed. Xiao wanted to shake his head, he didn't need to be looked at like a scared animal, like a victim barely saved from death. It was Venti's turn, and no matter his silver tongue, he wasn't going to be rescued from talking this time.
"Ist es wirklich wichtig?" The Mondstadtian flowed freely, a nigh invisible tremble beneath the words. Xiao offered Venti mercy, handing him back his cape and wrapping him up in it.
"It's cold," Xiao whispered when he was close enough. "I'm more used to staying on mountain tops than you are. It's too windy here." They both ignored the stupidity of that statement, instead just sitting down on the soft grass and leaning into each other.
Tell me Xiao wanted to yell out. Wanted to wrap his arms so tightly around the other that the only way out would remain to cry and confess. To admit that he wasn't invincible, that mental scars hurt and ache, and have been torn open and left to bleed and Venti is just allowing them without ever thinking of picking up a thread to patch them up.
Instead, Xiao just tighten his grasp, ignoring the tingling in his chest and begging his own body to keep it together. This wasn't about him, it was about his lover, and now definitely wasn't the time to divert his attention into comforting Xiao and helping him to rein his nervousness and anxiety in. Why was it even there? He would ask Venti later, not now.
"Hast du jemals gedacht... that they are better than you?" Xiao tried not to take it as a jab, the soft, almost meek, way in which Venti said it proved that it wasn't meant to be. "Your siblings, I mean. Did you ever think of them as better?"
Xiao hummed. "Of course. Every day." He thought back to those moments, of battle, of preparation, of wound tending, of comfort... "They were always better than me. I do not need to think about it, that fact is already clear. I've accepted it long ago." It was only after the words were out of his mouth that he stopped to wonder if he should have even said them.
"I feel the same way," Venti leaned his head on Xiao's shoulder, pressing closer. "Not about you and your siblings, of course not! Just..." He twirled the fabric of Xiao's sleeve between his fingers, his eyes half closed. Xiao pulled the cape tighter around the other, still playing to the cold being the reason Venti's fingers were shaking.
"You think your death in exchange for his life back then would have proven for a much better future, and an even better present." Xiao finished the thought for him, staring at him, piercing.
Venti laughed, joyless. "Du kannst mir nicht sagen, dass ich falsch liege." A challenge, maybe. Or perhaps a plea? "Everything that happened up until now, every screw up, was because of me. Every mess made, was because of my negligence. You can't deny that. He... would have done better."
"So you admit it then?"
Venti nodded.
"Everything up until this very moment was because of your doing. That's true. You rescued Mondstadt from the clutches of the God of storms. You rescued Mondstadt from the clutches of aristocracy. You allowed the citizens to choose everything for themselves. You gave what you promised, what you wanted, what he wanted. Freedom."
Venti pulled away immediately, a scowl on his face, but the anger was overrun by the tears cascading down his face. "You don't know anything. His life would have granted all of Mondstadt so much more. He was so much better of a leader than I could ever be, Liebchen. Nothing could ever compare... Mondstadt would never be free from the clutches of Decarabian had it not been for him."
Xiao gently grasped the other's hand, feeling his heartbeat in his fingertips. "When my siblings died... all I could think about, for decades, was how little my own death would have meant in comparison. That it would somehow leave a smaller wound if it was me instead of at least one of them." He ran his thumb over Venti's palm.
"You don't feel like that anymore?"
"No... well, yes, sometimes. When the nights are too quiet, and the nature seems so still. It brings me back to my days of captivity. It's a weird sort of nostalgia that I still can't decipher. Despite the torture, despite the agony, it was... good, and it was only good because I had them with me. I only miss it because I miss them."
Venti absentmindedly played with the edges of his corset, face contorted in concentration.
"I think..." Xiao tried to find the words. "Those memories aren't quite mine, but I'm still more than glad to hold onto them."
"Huh?" Venti's gaze snapped back towards Xiao, full focus on what his next words will be.
"I never saw those times as happy. Not in a single moment. Agony, languish, dispair; all of those were the words I would use to describe my captivity, but... when they and I discussed it, reluctantly, they would speak of those small moments of relief, of when we got to be together, or even just sleep in the same place.
Those memories of relief aren't mine. But I'll carry them for as long as I remain standing."
Venti turned his head away, an image appearing before his eyes. Right... he always spoke of how everything will be alright once the revolution succeeds, of how everything will be worth it, every sacrifice of his, as long as the people of the future get a taste of freedom, will be nothing in comparison to the reward.
He died with a smile Venti forces his mind to form that imagine, and to never let it slip.
Yeah... that memory of happiness isn't Venti's. He'll keep it regardless.