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Xiao never knew when Lumine would call for his aid.
No, that wasn't quite true; he knew sometimes. He came to expect her summoning him each Lantern Rite, dragging him into her adventures, or simply to spend time with him during what she knew was an odd time for his emotions. She had never missed a Lantern Rite, not since they met. No matter where in Teyvat her journeys took her, she would always return to Liyue in time for the holiday. Always. She told him it was important to her, though he wasn't sure why. It was only a holiday. Though, he began to look forward to it each year, if only because he knew Lumine would call his name. If only because he knew he would get to see her again.
Excluding Lantern Rite, she called on him rarely. It used to be that she only called his name in times of great peril. Battles she couldn't handle on her own, times she'd gotten herself hopelessly lost or stuck. On more than one occasion, times she had already been wounded. He grew to expect his name only at times of true danger, true need. But in more recent years, that wasn't always true; sometimes, she would call his name, seemingly only to ask for his company. This was a rare occasion, though. He wasn't quite sure why she did this. But she would whisper his name and he would appear at her side all the same, and she would ask for him to spend the day with her, and of course he obliged. He would do anything for her. She only needed to ask.
He wished she would ask more.
Xiao was no fool; he knew she was capable. She was stronger than him by a wide margin, he knew. She could handle herself. Still, he wished she would ask him for help more often. Whether for aid in combat or for his company; he just wanted her to rely on him more than she did. He told her this often. “Say my name,” he would promise, “and no matter where in the world you are, I’ll be there. I want to help you. No matter what.”
The farther she strayed from Liyue, the more difficult it became. Normally, it would prove impossible for him to travel outside of the region by someone calling his name. But he realised quickly he cared for Lumine enough to overcome that; when he gave her his name to call on, he gave her his true name. Strong enough to hear anywhere across Teyvat. No matter the distance, he would hear it, and he would be at her side. This was a privilege special to Lumine, one he had never bestowed to anyone else. The first time she called upon him in Inazuma to save her from a fatal strike, he knew it was worth it. Returning to Liyue could be troublesome for far jumps like that, but he didn't care. It was more than worth it, to ensure her safety.
Still, her calls for him were infrequent at best. When she was in Liyue, he could feel her presence, occasionally appearing near her even without her calling if he felt that she was in danger. But outside of Liyue? Xiao was blind. As far as he knew, she was in Sumeru now, or perhaps Fontaine. Far outside of Liyue’s borders, unlikely to return until the next Lantern Rite. Unlikely to speak his name. Unlikely, but not impossible.
It was late in the night when it happened. Perched upon the roof of Wangshu Inn, he felt her voice more than he heard it; “Xiao.” He was there in an instant, his name hardly finished leaving her lips before he was in front of her, spear primed at his side, alert. Ready for danger. But when his eyes settled on Lumine, he realised this was not a call for combat.
Lumine sat on the ground in front of him, legs crossed with her hands in her lap, staring down at her hands. He released his grip on his spear and let it fade into the realm between before kneeling in front of her — if not a time for combat, perhaps she was injured, needing assistance. “Lumine,” he called softly.
She raised her head enough to see him, eyes meeting his own. “Xiao,” she murmured. “You came.”
“Of course I came.” He studied her in the low light — her eyes were dull, hollow. She looked nothing like herself. Normally, he could swear he saw stars in her eyes, constellations that lit up when she smiled. Now, there was nothing. The sky he normally saw in her gaze was dim, lifeless. Heavy bags hung under her eyes, too. She looked… weary. Without thought, he raised a hand to her face and cupped her cheek, thumb stroking against her cheekbones.
She nuzzled into his palm and he realised only then what he was doing, that he was touching her. He tensed and nearly removed his hand, but hers came to hold him in place. Her smaller hand against the back of his own, ensuring he didn't pull away. “Will you stay…?” she asked, her voice so soft it was nearly lost to the wind.
“I’ll stay,” he promised. “Whatever you need, just give me the word.”
She did not say anything else. No more guidance, no explanation as to what might have been wrong. She leaned into his palm, eyes falling shut, hand leaving his to fall back into her lap. He watched her, eyes slowly combing over her appearance, looking for anything out of place. Finding nothing. She looked as she normally did, save for the exhaustion marring her face. No wounds that he could see, no sign of anything wrong. No injury, then. What else? Was she ill? Her skin didn't feel particularly hot under his hand — no sign of fever. If anything, she felt cold.
He adjusted his positioning, now sitting on his knees, raising his other hand to the other side of her face. Voice gentle, he asked, “Lumine, what's wrong?” There had to be something wrong. She would never call him so late at night if there wasn't.
She didn't answer for a long moment. He watched as she slowly inhaled, a long deep breath. Then her eyes fluttered open and she looked up at him through her lashes — eyes only barely open, really, like she was fighting to do so. “I’m… I’m tired,” she practically whimpered, and Xiao felt an odd stab at his heart.
“You should lay down,” he suggested. Eyes finally leaving Lumine to look around — he hadn't taken in their surroundings much upon his arrival, more concerned with Lumine. A campsite, it seemed, nestled into a bright forest. Sumeru, perhaps, based on the flora. He'd never been here before. He carefully scanned the camp. A meager campfire, already more ember than flame. A prepared bedroll, messy and rumpled from restless attempts at sleep. Her sword by the bedding, placed more carefully than anything else present in camp. Nothing else, that he could see. Nothing that mattered, nothing that belonged to her. “I can take you to Wangshu, if you would rather sleep in a bed —”
Before the offer fully left him, Lumine’s arms were around him, and he tensed. Head snapping forward to look at her. She'd crawled close enough to hug him, arms around his waist, now gently pressing her head against his chest. Startled, it took him a long moment to react. Slowly, his body relaxed. He carefully looped his arms around her body, returning the hug and inviting her closer when he adjusted his legs to accommodate her body against his. She had never done this before. Hugged him like this. Physical affection from Lumine was few and far between, saved for the occasional link of their hands, or short hugs to wish farewell. Nothing like this. Nothing like how she now clung to him, desperate, trembling.
“Tell me what I can do,” he whispered to her, settling his hands on her back. “How can I help you, Lumine. Please.”
“Just this,” she murmured. Her head pressed against him like this, her voice came out muffled, even beyond how quietly she spoke. “Just this, just… Just stay, please…”
“I’m staying. I’m not going anywhere.” She'd be hard pressed to get rid of him now, really. He was too worried about her; something had to be wrong. She was acting strangely, speaking even stranger. She didn't look or sound like herself, and now she was clinging to him like she was utterly terrified. Never had Xiao seen her like this. Even when he had come to her aid before, while she was injured or ill, she had acted nothing like this. Something was wrong. What? What could be going on? She wasn't in any apparent danger, she wasn't injured, wasn't sick in any way he could detect.
She said nothing else, only clinging to him. The more he adjusted to the unusual sensation of being held like this, the stranger he felt. Lumine was, truly, the only person who was close enough to him to touch him at all. Her being largely unaffected by his karma was to thank for this, even seeming to ease its effects on Xiao with her mere presence. But even then, she was such a reserved person, as was he. Physical contact between them was uncommon, unnecessary. Being hugged in such a manner was completely and utterly foreign to him. It felt… strange. The warmth of her body against his own, the rhythm of her heart slowing to match his own, the softness with which she clung to him. In an odd way, he didn't want it to end. Realising, in an instant, that he might have enjoyed it. Being held like this.
Even then, even if he might've liked the hug — and he wasn't sure he did — that didn't change the fact that something was clearly wrong. He cleared his throat. Voice quiet and cautious, “Tell me what's wrong. What's going on? Please.”
“I’m tired…”
“I know. But there's more than that, isn't there?” In his arms, Lumine tensed. “Just tell me what I can do.”
She shook her head against him. “It doesn't matter,” she murmured. “It doesn't…”
“It matters to me,” Xiao pressed. “It’s bothering you, so it matters.”
She went quiet. Seconds passed without response. He wondered if she would answer him at all. Then, finally, voice nearly a whimper, “I haven't… I haven't been sleeping.”
That much he could tell by looking at her. “How long?”
Again she tensed up. Voice impossibly quieter, “I don't know. A while. A few weeks? Maybe months? I don't…”
All the blood seemed to drain from Xiao’s body, a chill settling over him. “You haven't slept in that long?”
“No, no, I… I pass out sometimes,” she rushed. As though that made it better. As though that was any less worrying. “And then I — I sleep a little, and then I keep going until I can't, and…”
“... Why?”
“I can't…” Her voice trailed off into a whimper. Shaking her head, she tightened her grip on him. “I can't sleep, I can't, what if I — what if…”
Something is scaring her. Something about sleeping; her dreams, maybe? “Are you having nightmares?” he asked gently. She whimpered, didn't offer any other reply. He took that as an affirmative. He brought a hand to the back of her head, threading his fingers through her hair and pulling her in closer. “I can help with nightmares. You know that.”
“Not that simple…”
No, of course it wasn't. Nothing that could ever trouble Lumine would have such a simple solution. He nodded, slowly, turned his head to once again glean their surroundings. If they were truly in Sumeru, they were under the authority of the God of Dreams. What little power Xiao held over dreams was likely worthless here; normally, he could eat her nightmares, simple as that. But in the region of dreams? Unlikely. “Are you sure you don't want to go to Wangshu?” he asked again. “Or your adeptal realm? I have more influence there. I can help.”
“No, I… I don't….” Again she barely shook her head. “Just… Stay,” she managed. “Stay. Please.”
“I will. I’ll stay, I promise.”
She murmured something; if it was words, he couldn't quite understand her. Seeming to settle down at his promise, she relaxed against him. His hand on the small of her back, he pulled her in closer, shifting into a more comfortable position. It seemed he might be there a while. He let himself relax, too. Always easy to be relaxed around Lumine; the pain of his karmic debt fading in her presence, as it often did. It seemed being in direct contact with her like this improved that even further. Shocking him, he felt no pain at all, after a moment. Only the strangeness at being held, a feeling he was beginning to process might've been comfort. That, and the warmth of her body against his own. Such an odd experience, the warmth of another. He settled his head atop hers, face nestled in the crown of her head. Her hair smelled of the wind, of sunlight, of dreams. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to enjoy this. Her warmth, her comfort, her scent.
As time ticked away between them, more of her weight leaned against Xiao. Not that he minded. Her weight was hardly a burden, and even then, it was one he was more than willing to bear. He realised she was dozing off in his arms — her breathing slowing, alongside her heart rate, both of which he could feel against him. He said nothing. Only let her drift to sleep in his arms. Perhaps his presence would grant her better dreams, though he doubted this. She wasn't affected by the physical effects of his karma, but…
Had she called him only for this? To be held? Comforted, perhaps; humans often sought physical affection for comfort at times of need. Was that what this was? A time of need, a time for comfort? He wasn't sure. He was never sure of these things; human emotions and tendencies came as something he didn't quite understand, even though he felt many of them himself. They were beyond him. And Lumine was something further out of his realm of understanding, she always had been. The quiet, kind traveler, who always smiled at him, who was unaffected by his karmic debt. Unaffected by his attitude. Unaffected by so many things, and affected by so much else. Kindness came second-nature to her. Despite everything.
No, he never understood Lumine. But he didn't have to, did he? There were so many things he never understood, would never understand. But Lumine was kind to him. Considered him a friend, an idea he almost understood. He didn't have to understand any more than that.
A short while later, when he was certain Lumine was asleep, he carefully pulled her into his arms to carry to bed. Much as he wanted to keep holding her, she needed to sleep properly, comfortably. If she slept sitting up like that, she'd regret it come morning. He brought her to her bedroll and gently laid her down. Paining him, she mewled when the two separated and squirmed in place. As though displeased by the lack of contact. To soothe her, he brushed his hand against her face and tucked some of her hair away, murmured, “I’m staying.” He doubted she could actually hear him, but just the sound of his voice seemed to calm her enough to settle back into stillness.
He spent a moment removing some of his more uncomfortable accessories so that he could lie down next to her without fear of hurting her. The idea of Lumine seeking him for comfort in the night only to be diswayed by his sharp accessories disheartened him. He stripped himself of his necklaces, shoulder pauldron, and some of the accessories off his belt. After a moment of hesitation, he removed his mask from his belt, too, setting it beside the bedding. The rest of his objects he let fade from this realm for now. Satisfied, he carefully approached Lumine and crawled into place next to her.
There was not a lot of room for Xiao, but he didn't care for his own comfort. Lumine’s mattered more. He lay on his back and slipped an arm under Lumine to pull her closer to him — the action nearly subconscious to him, only desiring her closeness. Even when his mind caught up to his actions, he did not stop. Lumine fell asleep in his arms. Was that not proof of comfort? She would likely want to stay near him, even as she slept. So he settled her at his side, keeping her near, his arm folded over her body. She mewled and rolled towards him, nuzzling against his side and settling quickly. Cute, a distant part of him thought. An odd word, to assign Lumine. Not the first time he had considered it about her, but it felt odd every time. Lumine, calm and quiet and reserved, who had an air of something not unlike sophistication to her, could be cute.
He turned his head to watch her for a moment. How could she still look so exhausted even while she slept? How long had she been depriving herself of sleep? It seemed even she didn't know. Weeks, she had said, or months. Sleeping only when she collapsed. Why didn't you call for me sooner…? If it was nightmares plaguing her, he could help. If it wasn't, well… At least he could comfort her, couldn't he? That's why she had called him to begin with. He couldn't stand to see her like this. Even when Xiao had seen Lumine at her weakest, while she was sick or perilously wounded, she hadn't looked anywhere near as exhausted as she looked now.
Perhaps she could feel him watching, because she turned her head to angle her face downwards, essentially hiding from him. With a sigh, he looked away from her, gaze fixed upwards. This seemed an odd spot for a campsite, he thought, at least for Lumine. In the middle of dense woodland was far from what she usually preferred. The few times he had camped with her, she chose spots where she could easily see the sky — even in forested areas, she made it a point to seek out clearings. He thought it odd at the time. It made her vulnerable while she camped, both to weather and to attacks. But she always insisted. As though the sky itself brought her some sort of comfort. Why had that changed? For what reason was she now camped so deep in the forest that all Xiao could see above him was a canopy of thick, green leaves?
So much of Lumine’s current behavior felt so… strange. So off. He worried, but what else could he do but allow her to sleep at his side? He fell asleep with that thought in mind, drifting into an anxious rest. The warmth of Lumine’s body against his own serving as the only comfort against his worried mind.
Hardly slept at all, though, before he was awake again. He knew instantly that something was wrong, likely before even Lumine did. He could feel it, feel the distinct shift — something wrong. His eyes snapped open and he turned his head towards Lumine. She still slept at his side — to an untrained eye, she looked exactly the same. He noticed, though. Noticed how her body was tensed, how her shoulders were pulled up, noticed her hand on his side, grabbing the fabric of his clothes with desperation. Her face obscured against his side; hiding. He rolled onto his side to better see her, bringing his free hand up to her head. Angling her face enough to see her — heart dropping when he did, she looks terrible. Even in sleep, her face was contorted into something pained, something scared. A tiny whimper escaped her lips, the sound stabbing him. Was she having a nightmare…?
He shuffled downwards so that his head was level to hers, keeping his hand below her head. Then inching closer to her. He couldn't devour her dreams like he would normally, something in Sumeru prevented that, as he expected. But if he just…
Xiao pressed his forehead against Lumine’s, and in an instant, everything went dark.
He blinked his eyes open into Lumine’s dream. Somewhere in Sumeru, he recognized. Although surrounded by thick forests, he seemed to be in a clearing. A glance upward showed him the sky, unobstructed. In the twilight hours, hardly any stars visible through what remained of the sun’s influence on the sky. Ahead of him was a dilapidated, abandoned shelter. A house of sorts, perhaps. He stepped towards the hut, apprehensive and cautious. Something about this place felt…
He heard a sob from within the hut and immediately broke into a sprint. Unease be damned; nothing mattered to him more than Lumine, and he could recognize the sound of her crying from across the world. Flying into the hut, eyes quickly scanning the interior —
… Mirrors.
Lumine sat collapsed on the ground in the center of the room, facing away from Xiao. She had her face buried in her hands, sobbing softly. Surrounding her were mirrors. One on every side of her, the biggest mirror being the one in front of her — this one was shattered, too, right at the face of her reflection. But it wasn't Lumine in the reflection. In any of the reflections. The person staring at Lumine through the mirror was a stranger to Xiao. Golden blonde hair tied into a long braid down their back, dressed in dark browns and golden metal. Eyes golden and piercing, fixed on Lumine, disobeying the pose they should have reflected so that they could observe her. He realised, in an instant, who it was in the mirror.
Aether. Her twin. The person in the mirror looked exactly how she always described him, except more…
Xiao took a step further into the room, heart crawling up his throat. He swallowed it down. Calling softly into the quiet space, “Lumine?”
Her head snapped up, turning over her shoulder to look at him. Tears flooded her eyes and she cried out, “Xiao —!” In the mirrors around her, the reflected eyes of Aether turned towards him in a glare before shadow fell over the mirrors. As Lumine scrambled to her feet, the mirrors stopped reflecting her entirely. Empty glass surrounding her, save for the shattered mirror that was now behind her — each shard reflected either Lumine or Aether, creating a collage of their appearances. She didn't see it, though. Too busy running towards Xiao. And he didn't acknowledge it, though the sight made him sick; too busy meeting her halfway to pull into his arms, hugging her tightly.
“I’m here,” he murmured, holding her tight against his own body. She clung to him just as desperately. “I’m here. Are you okay?”
“Xiao, I — I…” She whimpered, shaking her head against him. “It wasn't me, you have to — you have to believe me, please, it wasn't me, it was him, I’m not him, I’m not him, please —”
“Shh, shh, it's okay, Lumine,” he soothed softly. She sobbed, clinging to him even tighter. He didn't know what she was talking about. But it didn't matter, not when it came to soothing her, “I know it wasn't, it's okay. You're not him, I know. You're alright, Lumine. You're alright.”
“I’m not him,” she whimpered again. “I’m not him, I can't be, I won't be him…”
… Was she talking about Aether? She had to be, right? It didn't matter, he supposed. Raising a hand to the back of her head to pull her closer, he murmured back, “You're not him.”
“You — you promise? You promise I’m still…?”
“I promise.”
“Not him,” she repeated. “Not him, not him, not him…”
“... Let's get out of here,” he suggested carefully. The sight of the mixed reflection of Lumine and Aether in one of the mirrors made him increasingly uneasy, and he doubted it would do Lumine any good to stay in this hut. She whimpered, offered no actual response, didn't let go of him. After a long moment of hesitation, he leaned to pick her up. Hoisting her into his arms, holding her tight against him. She clung to him just the same, head nestled in the curve of his neck. Slowly, he stepped out of the building, leaving the mirrors behind them.
She was still crying. He hated the sound of her crying — all he wanted to do was soothe her, reassure her, calm her down. And he would, soon. Just had to get her somewhere less… Well. He carried her outside, and when she flinched and hid her face to avoid seeing the sky, carried her further into the forest. Only when they were blanketted by the canopy of leaves above did he carefully lower himself to the ground, adjusting Lumine into his lap. Holding her, he asked, “Are you alright?”
“I’m not him,” she mumbled. “It wasn't me, I’m not him, I’m not…”
… Still on that, then. It was as though that was the only thing she was capable of saying. He cleared his throat, offering, “We should… You should wake up, I’ll take you to Wangshu. I'll make sure you don't have any dreams at all.”
She tensed. “No, I can't, if I wake up, what if…”
“... What if what? What's wrong?”
“I can't,” she whimpered again. “I can't, I can't, I’ll — I’ll get stuck, I can't do it, I don't want to be him, I don't want it, please —”
“Lumine,” he gently interrupted. She whimpered, shaking her head against him, crying softly into his shoulder. “This dream isn't good for you. You won't get any rest like this, you need to wake up.”
“I can't…”
“I’m laying right next to you,” he continued. “I won't go anywhere. You'll be okay, I promise. When you wake up, I’ll be right there.”
“What if I’m not… I can't…”
“You'll be alright.” He broke the hug between them, forcing Lumine to look him in the eyes. She looked so scared, an expression utterly foreign to him. He couldn't remember a time he had ever seen her afraid. Not like this. Bringing a hand to her face, he carefully wiped away her tears. “You’ll be alright, really.”
She sniffled, eyes falling from his to look down at her hands, now balled atop her thighs. “Xiao, I… I can't do this, I can't be alone again, I can't, I can't —”
“You won't be alone, Lumine.” Reaching forward, he gently grabbed her by the wrists, pulling her hands into his. “I’ll be there. I promise, I’ll be there. I’ll be right next to you, the moment you open your eyes. You won't be alone for even a second.”
She nodded; slowly, like she was still struggling to believe him, to accept it. “You’ll be there,” she echoed.
“I will.”
“And… And I’ll be me?”
“You will. You won't be anyone but you, I promise.”
Another slow, hesitant nod. “Okay,” she agreed softly.
“Okay.” Still holding her hands, he leaned forward. Pressing his forehead to hers, he closed his eyes and murmured, “Now wake up.”
The dream ended in an instant, his eyes snapping open only to see Lumine’s, wide and scared and staring at him. He was still so close their heads were nearly touching. He quickly shuffled back, bringing a hand to her cheek, running his thumb soothingly over her skin. “See? I’m here.”
“Xiao,” she whimpered. She shuffled closer to him, raising her hand to cup over his with a quiet whine. “You're real?”
“I am.”
“Am I?”
“You're real, Lumine,” he assured. “You're real. You're okay.”
She nodded into his hand. “I’m me,” she murmured. “I’m not him.”
“You're not him.” He still didn't know what she meant by that, but he had a feeling it was the root of… this. Whatever this was. Her fear of sleeping — more specifically, her fear of waking up. Something must've happened in her travels to incite this kind of anxiety. But now was no time for questioning; he doubted she had been asleep more than an hour or two, she needed far more rest than that. “I’ll take you to Wangshu to sleep more,” he announced. Separating from her so that he could sit up, though the quiet mewl Lumine let out when he let go of her face pained him. “I’ll clean up camp.”
“... We don't have to,” she murmured. She sat up while Xiao stood, carefully shuffling out of her bedding. “I don't… I don't need to sleep, it's alright.”
“You do,” he dismissed. Stepping towards the campfire, he controlled the air to snuff out what little flames remained amid the charcoal and embers. “We're going. I can take you back here tomorrow, if you have business here.”
“I don't, but…”
“... But?”
“... I don't want to sleep,” she admitted. Voice so quiet he nearly missed it.
He paused, turning his head to study her. She sat on the ground, pulling at the fabric on her palms and avoiding his eye. “... I know,” he said eventually. “But you need to.”
“... And… If I can't?”
“... You at least need to rest.”
She gave a careful nod, turning her head towards her bedroll. “I can… I can try,” she murmured. “I can try.”
“Trying is enough.”
He turned back to the fire while she took the time to carefully fold up her bedding, moving it to storage. The both of them quiet while they cleaned up the campsite. When he had finished tidying properly, he returned to Lumine, finding her sitting in place with her sword lain across her lap, studying the blade. He frowned, slightly, knelt in front of her. “What are you doing?”
She raised her head to meet this eye. Seeming confused, for a moment. Then looking back down at her sword. She ran her fingers carefully down the flat of the metal, murmured, “Aether’s sword is different. He still has his true sword.”
“... His true sword?”
“I lost mine,” she continued. The way she was speaking, it was almost like she wasn't really talking to Xiao. Talking at him but not to. He couldn't tell if she even heard him. “A long time ago. When we were separated. I lost my sword, and my powers, and my wings…” Trailing off, her shoulders tensing. “... But Aether, he still has his sword.”
“... Your wings?” Xiao echoed. “You had wings?”
Her fingers slid to the edge of the blade, and Xiao felt himself tense as they glided up to the tip of her sword. “I did,” she murmured. “But it was a long, long time ago.”
“... You miss them.”
“I miss a lot of things.” She pressed her finger to the point of her sword, and for a moment, Xiao worried that she would draw blood. But she pulled away just as quickly. “But it doesn't matter anymore. They're gone. My wings, my sword, they're gone. I won't get them back. And Aether…” She shook her head. Continued in a lower voice, “Aether still has his sword.”
He stared at her for a long moment, her hands, her sword. Eventually taking a shaky breath, he said, “You don't know that. You might get them back one day.”
“... Maybe,” she murmured. Seeming unconvinced.
“... Put your sword away, we're moving,” Xiao instructed. She nodded and obeyed. Taking her hands off of her sword, it faded away in her lap. Safely out of her hands. He didn't like her having it right now, not when she seemed so…
… She didn't move, from her spot on the ground. He watched her for a moment before sighing. Shuffling closer to her, he murmured, “Hold onto me.” Again she obeyed without hesitation, looping her arms around his head while he pulled her into his arms. He stood up and adjusted his hold on Lumine. Not the first time he had carried her, even excluding her dream, but it never stopped feeling strange. To have her so close. This time felt different; she was clinging to him, he realised. Arms tight around him, face tucked into his shoulder, seemingly desperate for contact.
Strange. So much of this was strange. He ignored the oddity of the situation and pulled her closer, hand steady on her back, arm under her legs. “Close your eyes,” he instructed. “Warping can be a little uncomfortable, tell me if you feel sick.”
“Mhm…”
With a deep breath, Xiao closed his own eyes, and let the shadows at his feet crawl up his body and swallow him whole.
When he opened his eyes, he was again atop of Wangshu Inn, just where he had been before Lumine called him. She must not have been far into Sumeru — the jump hadn't exhausted him nearly as much as he expected. In his arms, Lumine whimpered, pressing her head firmer against him. “You alright?” he checked. She made a quiet, affirmative noise. “Okay. I've got you,” he promised softly. Holding her tightly, he hopped down onto the top balcony of the inn and slipped into his room.
Never before had he been grateful for this room; he rarely used it himself. Sleep was not on his list of priorities, only letting it claim him when he was too exhausted to resist… Much like Lumine was doing, he realised with a frown. He ignored that thought and gently laid Lumine down into his bed. She made a quiet sound of hurt when he did, trying desperately to grab for him. Did she still want him close…?
After a long moment of hesitation, he slipped into bed beside her, laying next to her. He didn't have a massive bed, but it was enough room for the two of them with some careful space between. She rolled over to face him. Eyes half-open at best, dim with exhaustion. “Xiao,” she murmured, drowsiness making her call for him barely audible.
“Yes?” He raised a hand to her head and tucked some of her hair out from her face, so that he could see more of her. “What can I do?”
“You’ll stay…?”
“Of course I’ll stay. I’m not going anywhere.” He let his hand frame her cheek, running his thumb over her skin. “I’ll make sure you don't have any dreams, don't worry.”
“Mm…” Drowsiness seemed to be claiming her further by the second, and yet she still wouldn't close her eyes. Fighting to keep them open, to stay awake. She looked at Xiao through her eyelashes and murmured his name again, “Xiao?”
“What is it?”
“Can you…” She trailed off nearly as soon as she began, soft frown falling over her features. She nuzzled into his palm and squirmed closer to him, reaching her hand for his chest.
He frowned back, confused by her fractured request and her actions. “What’s wrong, Lumine?” he asked. Cupping her cheek properly when she turned her head into his hand. “What do you need?”
She shook her head the slightest degree, the movement miniscule and accompanied by a nearly-silent whine. Instead of speaking, she shifted, moving towards him. He froze in place while she repositioned herself right next to him, tucking her head into his chest, murmuring quiet nothings. Her arms snaked around his torso, holding him softly, her head pillowed by one of his arms. Her voice nearly entirely muffled by his body and his heart thrumming in his ears, “Stay like this…?”
Slow and cautious, he settled his other arm over her body, draped over her waist and hand on her back. He nestled his head over hers, nuzzling her without thought, without meaning. “I’ll stay,” he whispered into her hair. “I’ll stay. Just like this.” She made an appreciative noise, almost like a hum. His promise must have been what she was waiting for; within moments of the words leaving his lips, she fell still, finally succumbing to sleep.
This clinginess was, as everything else about Lumine’s behavior that night, unusual. But he couldn’t find it in him to be displeased by the way she was holding onto him. By the way she wanted him to hold her in turn. If holding Lumine brought her the peace she needed to sleep, who was he to protest? No, no, even if that weren’t true, Xiao wouldn’t protest this. How could he? The warmth of Lumine’s body against his own, the smell of wind and sunshine in her hair, the way her contact — her very presence — seemed to drive away the anguish of his karma. He was as comforted as she was, perhaps more so. Closeness with another like this had never been something Xiao sought, never something he desired. Never something he had experienced. Physical contact with other people was a privilege not granted to him. But now, holding Lumine, he realised how desperately he craved it. How terribly he did not want to give it up, not for the world. He closed his eyes and gathered her impossibly closer to him, hooking his leg over one of hers to draw her nearer.
This proximity with her would make it easier to devour her dreams before they could fully form, but even as the thought entered his mind, Xiao knew it was only an excuse. He could just as easily consume them from their original positions on the bed. But he didn’t want that, that distance between them; neither did Lumine, clearly. She wanted this more than he did. Or, no, she only identified the want better than he did, better than he ever could. Enough to act on her desire, enough to seek contact with him. Enough to ask. The fact that Xiao enjoyed it was inconsequential, in the long-term. All that mattered was Lumine’s comfort. Her safety, her peace. Nothing else. Lumine was all that ever mattered.
Still, he did as promised, not letting a single dream fully form in Lumine’s mind. Whether those dreams were peaceful or nightmarish, it didn’t matter. Lumine wanted no dreams at all. Most of them, he knew, were nightmares; or at least the seeds of nightmares. They tasted bitter and felt thick in his throat. The nicer dreams were far less common; dreams that would have made her happy, perhaps. The ones that felt light on his tongue, that tasted sweetly of almonds, that he practically never got to indulge in. He felt a guilt when he tasted those dreams. Would Lumine have liked them, if he allowed them to reach her? Would they have brought her peace? He didn’t know. He swallowed them down regardless.
Hours melted away between them. Him drifting in and out of sleep alongside her, waking only to steal her dreams. Darkest hours of night fading to pale sunlight outside, light peeking through the windows of his room. Not something Xiao worried about, cared about. Times of newfound safety in Liyue meant he could indulge in this: in Lumine. In sleeping next to her, holding her close, breathing her scent and stealing her dreams. She deserved all of the rest she needed, that she could get. And Xiao did promise her, didn’t he? That he would stay with her? He had no intention of breaking that promise. No intention of breaking the contact between them. Morning light did nothing to change his mind. It never would.