Chapter Text
Every surface in the house is marred with dust. A house plant bought on a whim sits precariously on the windowsill begging for water, its caretaker long haven forsaken it. A cupboard stands stuffed full of miscellaneous items. A half opened suitcase lies on the floor, one of its sides propped up on the wall to act as a temporary drying rack.
In the midst of the mayhem is a boy.
His hair is fanned out around him and the fading dye on the neglected ends stream out just far enough to catch a ray of sunlight, his hair lying on the floor illuminated like a glistening river.
He pays no heed to the chaos of the apartment, his brows drawn taut to focus on the singular goal in front of him. His fingers drum mindlessly on the floor as he thinks a few details through before resuming to type furiously on his phone the moment the answer comes to him.
Once he’s done, he clicks the submit button on the form on his phone. There’s a twinkle in his eyes now that the pesky form is done and filled out.
“Now, we wait,” he says to no one in particular. Breathing deeply in, he shuts his eyes and falls asleep right there in the middle of the room.
His alarm blares all the while.
Venti sips his latte leisurely, in stark contrast to the barista at the counter that peers over to glare at him from above the massive line he’s holding up.
“There’s people behind you.” Albedo strains.
“Guess they’ll just have to wait, won’t they?” He takes another long audible sip through the protruding straw as if to drive his point home. “Now what would I like?”
“You just ordered.”
“And I want to order again!”
“You’re a menace to society”
“This menace will take a blueberry muffin.” Tilting his head, he squints up at the display screen. “Actually-“
“One blueberry muffin, coming right up,” Albedo says firmly.
Once he’s seated back at his table, (yes, this table is his) he turns on his laptop to begin one of the many assignments that are due precariously soon.
Five minutes of staring blankly at the screen and a resolute nod at the laptop later, he closes it.
“Those are never getting done,” a disapproving voice mutters from behind him.
“Very true,” he responds dejectedly.
The seat in front of him is filled. Albedo takes off his apron and cap to stretch his arms for a bit.
“Filled out the form already?”
“Yessir, this time next year, yours truly will probably be on a beach somewhere in Fontaine lounging by the ocean.”
Albedo gives him an unimpressed stare.
“Don’t you worry, I’ll never forget you,” Venti says mock tearfully.
“You’ve only been in the city a few months.”
“And in another few, I’ll be on my way.”
Albedo rests his head upon his palms.
“You won’t like what I have to say.”
“Then let’s not hear it!” Venti says gleefully, clapping his hands.
The rush has died down significantly by now, which means if he doesn’t come up with something soon, Albedo is going to continue to harass him based on the direction of this line of conversation.
“I think I have a lecture right now actually,” He crams his bag full with what he can and grabs a handful of whatever’s left on the table. Standing up slowly, he walks backwards toward the door.
Albedo rolls his eyes. “Sure you do. When was the last time you’ve scheduled a class before eleven in the morning. Also, you might want to look behind you. There’s someone right-“
True to Albedo’s word, Venti collides with this mysterious someone and sends his things scattering over the café floor.
Venti curses under his breath and begins to collect his things off the floor, an apology on his tongue to whatever poor soul he’d had the misfortune of running into. There’s a lot of cranky old rich guys that come to the café from the surrounding offices around this time, wouldn’t it be scary if one of them were to be carrying a coffee that spilled all over their seamlessly white, soulless and lacklustre work shirts? Maybe they’d get Venti to compensate them for their ridiculously expensive work shirt. He’s honestly already spent more than he should’ve this month. Not that it would be a problem of course! He’s got money to spare, and then some. But he’d much rather really avoid the hassle.
With the terror of being rightfully yelled at, he looks back to see-
Nothing.
He barely manages to catch a glimpse of a hastily retreating figure from the clear café door.
He does end up planning to go to his afternoon lecture. However, from the second he leaves the café, all the way up to the university, he feels an eerie sensation follow him.
To cut away at some of his apprehension, he spends ten minutes walking around in circles. When that doesn’t work, he hops oddly in place making funny faces. That gets him a few glances from passersby but does nothing to quell the weird feeling in his gut. He sits on a park bench and stares relentlessly at his surroundings till his eyes burn but still fails to see anything worth his worry.
He heads into the university and the feeling goes away immediately. Proud of himself at having lost whatever ghost seems to have taken a liking to him today, he celebrates with a loud cheer and a canned cocktail.
Diluc and Diona wrinkle their faces in sheer disgust and abject horror as they pass him in the hallways respectively. He is not fazed in the slightest, however, since those two don’t really know what life’s about. He is definitely not about to feel judged by someone that moans about retribution every chance they get in their law seminars, at least, that’s what he’d heard from Eula, and coming from her, it must’ve meant serious business.
By the time he’s done with class, he’s fairly certain that all of the one’s he’s about to miss tomorrow have been duly compensated for.
Venti leans heavily against the glass doors of the cafe he’d just exited, a weary sigh escaping him. Sue him, it was either going to be another coffee or a cocktail. His coffee and phone are clutched precariously in the same hand, while he uses the other to dab away at the sweat that accumulates on his brow.
The street is busy. Students from the universities nearby loiter and occupy most of the tables. After a full day of classes (one class), he’s nearly ready to collapse, and definitely more than ready to head home already.
Elbows jostle his sides as he tries to traverse through the crowd, which is busier than usual today. The sun shines high and is the the hottest it has been all year. It’s definitely a little revolting, thinking about the amount of sweat being exchanged between strangers and moist huffs of hair being breathed directly into his face. He doesn’t say this lightly either, he’s definitely not usually one to complain.
His classes had run pretty late today, he’d always hated Wednesdays. A large groan that echoes from the depth of his body mirrors the same sentiment. It was definitely time to eat something lest his stomach digest itself in desperation.
He walks (half limps) the way he knows the dining district is. The prospect of having take-out for the gajillionth time in a row this week alone almost has him retching. Deep inhales, Venti, deep inhales.
Is he catching a fever? Now that he thinks about it, which he shouldn’t, there might be sweat dripping off the top of his hairline into his eyebrows. He throws up a little in his mouth. Perfect timing, as if he didn’t have enough to deal with today.
Where was he again? Right, finding the food district. A few minutes into his arduous trek, the waft of delicious food carries itself over to his desperate self. The seats on the outside patios of restaurants with patrons in fancy clothes look especially inviting to his shaking legs that might just give up on him any moment now.
Come on Venti. Come on.
His phone buzzes with a text, and he could definitely use a break. After a thorough examination of a nearby wall where he assessed that if he were to lean on it, it would indeed hide the gigantic sweat stain his entire backside definitely has definitely plastered onto it, he slumps with a sigh and opens his phone to take a look.
One second his phone is in his hand.
The next, it’s gone.
Well, fuck.
Venti’s first instinct, like the sane, rational, serene individual he is, is to flounder like a fish out of water and stare at his hand in disbelief for fifteen seconds.
When he can finally get his legs to move, they’re running out of the crowd aimlessly until he can get a full gulp of air. Venti then uses the last wit about him to remind himself that he can’t call someone to help, like he instinctively reaches his pocket to do, because his phone is now without a doubt well and truly gone.
He then spends a few moments moping about and pacing the expanse of the pavement freaking out. Trust him to have a fawn response when he usually wouldn’t be able to shut up. He should’ve moved way quicker.
Venti, frustrated, kicks a rock on the ground with his foot. Well, only one other place to go.
Realistically, he could just buy himself a new phone but he’d already spent the majority of this month’s allowance from what his parents sent him on delicious restaurant takeaway. Screw it, he’d had exams all month and it was only his first year. Okay and maybe he did splurge on this cactus that repeats whatever you say to it, it drives Ningguang livid and that is funny enough to warrant its existence in his cupboard.
Okay and maybe he spent money on that gacha game he plays a whole bunch when he didn’t get the character he’d been saving up months for. And then maybe she deserves her weapon too?
Either way, he wasn’t really ready to face his parents about why exactly he’d run short of this month’s allowance. His life is over.
The next day ensues in as much harmony as it could in the absence of a phone. Slamming the coffee cup down on the table like a haggard drunkard, he whines at the barista.
“If I didn’t know you already and the others weren’t terrified to approach I’d have let one of them handle whatever this is.” Albedo gives Venti a stare that’d be enough to send a weaker man running.
“Albedo,” Venti moans in despair. “Do something, this is all your fault.”
“This is my fault how exactly.”
“What made you think it was a good idea to leave me unsupervised for any extended period of time”
“Aren’t you always saying we need to leave you be to let your, and I quote, creative genius bless you with opportunity”
Venti considers this for a moment. “The last time my ‘creative genius,” venti air quotes “blessed me with opportunity, I ended up stranded in a foreign country.”
Albedo hums, “you make a good point.” He carefully picks up a wash cloth to wipe over the table and its numerous coffee stains with “let’s keep you caged in the cafe.”
“Why a cage?” Venti shivers. He pops open his first can of beer.
“Surveillance is what you need, right?”
“Surveillance from the kitchen, maybe?”
Albedo narrows his eyes suspiciously at Venti. “You’ll just eat the kitchen.”
Venti wiggles his eyebrows. Albedo gives him an unimpressed stare.
Albedo, to his credit, does seem to genuinely feel sorry for Venti. He’d already prepared himself for a thorough bullying or a reprimand about carelessness and looking at your surroundings.
The realization came to him in the cafe that there had been someone following him all morning. Combine that, with the one moment he let his guard down and it all makes sense.
Whoever it was had to have taken his stupid phone.
As a professional freak outer, it had taken an hour and a half worth of unintelligible whines and unrelated tangents for Albedo to sufficiently make out the important bits of the jumble of words he’s produced over his second canned beer, a lot of which include random iterations of, ‘stupid, stupid Venti’, and ‘how could you let this happen’, as well as loud groans and sudden bangs of heads against tables.
“You should really put that down,” Albedo suggests nervously when Venti pops open a fourth can. “It’s only four o clock.”
“Can’t you see I’m grieving,” Venti bemoans.
“You’re never going to find your phone in that state,” Albedo suggests nervously as he tries to inconspicuously slide the fifth can away from Venti’s direction.
“It’s gone,” Venti wails when he slams the fifth can out of Albedos reach, open and into his awaiting mouth.
“This really can’t be good for your liver.”
“My tolerance is godly, which, by the way we shouldn’t even be talking about, because, in case you haven’t noticed already, I’m in dire need of consolation.”
“That much is evident,” Albedo says distastefully.
After a long bout of silence in which Venti has his cheek pressed against the table and gazes forlornly at the wall, Albedo continues hesitantly.
“You know, I could definitely pay-“
“Absolutely not”
“-still have some money saved up, wouldn’t be too much of a burden.”
“And risk having that laptop of yours having to see another year? Put that poor thing to rest.”
“First of all, that was rude.”
“It really isn’t normal for a laptop to sound like a freight train when it starts up.”
“It really isn’t that bad.”
Venti raises his eyebrows, daring Albedo to repeat the statement. The other doesn’t have the heart to follow through.
“I know you’ve been saving for it forever, just get yourself the laptop, you more than require it.”
Besides, the phone itself really wasn’t too big of an issue to replace. His parents will probably understand and pay for his new phone, anyway.
All his photos though? The phone contacts he’d have to painstakingly replace? The embarrassing meltdowns he’s written in his notes app.
Oh god. If someone manages to get that phone open and read them, he thinks he might somehow be able to feel it and die from the mortification, however far off they may be.
It takes a grand total of three days for Venti to get over his phone. In fact, one call back home and money was in his account.
He did get yelled at for a whole bit. That, however, is unsurprising considering both his parents are worry warts and alright so maybe he isn’t the best living off on his own.
When he moved out at the ripe age of fifteen to go to a fancy music school in Springvale, his parents had been worried sick. There was no denying he was a music prodigy and that the school would do him much good, the fact he’d even made it past the competitive admission process had left his parents completely baffled. The first they’d heard about it was when he’d shoved the acceptance letter in their faces with a smirk.
The people in Windrise, where he’d lived all his life, had been a nightmare. His big personality had been way too much for his small town to handle. At school, his dyed hair had made him a mockery to the descendants of the more prominent aristocratic families. The way his boisterous laugh would sound in the corridor would have heads turning and the expression on those faces were ones of unveiled repulsion. In time, he’d said, he’d learn to live despite their judgement, completely and authentically as himself.
He'd learn, he’d thought, when someone had shoved him in a locker and locked it because he’d got the soloist role for the school choir. He’d learn, he’d thought, when someone stuck blue bubble gum the shade of his hair onto his backpack. He’d learn, he’d thought, when it had been years since he’d had a true friend that wouldn’t eventually leave, unable to stomach the embarrassment of being associated with him. But he’d never stopped being himself.
He’d learn, he’d thought with tears streaming down his face and applying for the school away from home.
In the end, he had run.
What he learnt at the school in Springvale was that horrible people existed everywhere, but so did really nice ones. He’d managed to make a few friends and quite a few people still didn’t like him. However, now, he’d learned.
There were tears of pride streaming down his parents faces from where they sat cheering in the crowd when he graduated and celebrated him finally coming home.
The very same day, in blue robes billowing in the Springvale wind he’d shown them another letter. This one, for a university in Mondstadt city. They’d been speechless.
The friends he’d made at the school never heard from him again, he was too afraid one day he’d become too much for them and they’d become sick of him and once again he’d end up alone and abandoned, too much for anyone to handle. There was nothing his parents could say that would change his mind and eventually, he’d made it into the city with a beaming smile and a lot more confidence than he’d ever had before.
At least throughout it all, he’d unapologetically been himself.
The city had been a crazy change of landscape compared to the quiet ivy ridden streets of Windrise or the aged masonry of the school in Springvale. It was all bustling streets and unrestrained laughter, endless streets and the most majestic giant cathedral. It was, in all honesty, all he’d been looking for.
Right then, he’d made fast friends with so many people at the university and got to know the barista whose good natured sighs when he’d entered the café and serene expression when he’d rant had cultivated a most lovely friendship. He’d gotten busier with the workload given and dropped in to be a part of so many different bands, had a bunch of specialized ensembles and (sometimes) attended boring music theory lectures.
It should’ve felt like this could be forever.
Instead, with each passing day he’d felt a quiet dread culminate within him.
Escape, it whispered. Run, it insisted. There was only so much time until everything went back to the way it had been in Windrise.
He’d been a bit ashamed to ask his parents for money, he hadn’t seen them in ages. The last time he’d received one of his mother’s soft smiles or heard one of his dad’s awful jokes had been that day at the graduation in Springvale. Needless to say, he hadn’t yet told them about the transfer application to the university in Fontaine.
He would tell them…
It just wasn’t time yet, besides, no point worrying them for no reason at all if he didn’t even get accepted, anyway.
“What are we going to do with you, boy?” That had been all his father had sighed on the line when he’d called them to explain the situation on Albedo’s phone. Ten minutes later, he’d received a notification that money had been transferred.
So yes, he was pretty fortunate. He wasn’t heartless by any means though. His parents were already pretty well off but piggying off of them for the rest of his life seemed a bit embarrassing. Come on, even HE could feel ashamed, despite what many people seem to think. Which, of course, was why it was imperative that the request for full scholarship be accepted if he was going to Fontaine.
Today, the weather is a lot better. It was pleasant enough for him to actually sit on the bench on the park near his apartment without his ass catching fire. How much longer would have to be able to people watch in the city.
One person in particular seems to be making their way straight to him on the park bench. One very very very very pretty person. Very pretty person. Pretty…
Venti clears his throat and straightens his posture. After a thorough assessment with his finger to his lips, he does indeed ascertain that he is not drooling. Play it cool, Venti.
“You from around these parts, pretty boy?” he whispers under his breath. His eyes widen in horror. “Absolutely fucking not Venti, something cool, for Barbatos sake, something cool.”
He absolutely cannot afford a fuck up. There really isn’t enough time to rehearse for something to say. Honestly, someone with as pitiful of a love life as him should have a script for times like these. Why hasn’t he already got one? At least he knows what he’s going to do as soon as he gets home.
All thoughts of pretty men and abysmal love lives leave his head when the stranger gets a bit closer and all Venti can think of is to search his pockets for his phone to call for help, because this man does not look alright. Obviously, he finds no success (see above).
The first thing that stands out are an extremely prominent collarbone and clothes that look like they should’ve filled out but instead hang loosely around the man’s figure. His hair looks unkempt and his cheeks appear hollow and sunken, but nothing compares to the dull glazed over look in his eyes. Eyes that look like they belong to someone way older and not someone that looks just about Venti’s age.
What concerns him most though, is the long gash that is just barely visible under the sleeve of a dirty shirt and stands out horribly against pale and brittle arm skin.
There aren’t many homeless people in Mondstadt city. To make it this far, people would have to be pretty well off, anyway. Venti has no idea how this guy has survived it this long on the streets without the authorities dragging him off.
It’s worrisome.
His second thought is to chastise himself for judging and assuming when he knows nothing about this man’s life.
The man whose eyes now bore into his own. Venti realizes his mouth is gaping and quickly shuts it to nervously swallow.
He scours his bag that sits beside him on the bench for his wallet.
“It is not money I ask for.” The man’s voice is smooth like silk, with a rasp that Venti can’t tell is natural or a result of a dry throat. There is an accent there, but Venti cannot immediately place it.
The man extends one trembling hand forward and in his palm is-
“Is that my phone?” Venti croaks.
The man nods his head solemnly once. The man’s eyes begin to water and there is a deep seated tiredness in him that Venti does not think any amount of sleep would be able to fix.
He cannot bring himself to move at all. Every sane and rational thought has left his head, but at the same time his brain’s working a million miles a second. A good place to start would be to retrieve his phone from that hand that looks like it’s shaking with just the effort of holding it up.
“Call the police. I stole it. Demand they arrest me.” The voice shakes.
Venti notices the wetness in the man’s eyes reach a brink, but they do not fall down.
“Please, the number’s already been dialled.”
Venti looks around the park as though some magic entity will spawn right here and tell him how to deal with the situation in front of him. Or perhaps, someone will jump out from the bushes with a gigantic camera to laugh in his face and admit that he’s just been pranked.
None of it happens though.
The sun begins to set behind the trembling man and the sky bleeds resplendent shades of pink and a runner huffs and sings under their breath with their headphones in, unaware of the scene they’d just passed.
Venti’s eyes once again catch the bleeding gash on the man’s arm.
“Hey, listen, I don’t know what your deal is but I don’t think you’re okay right now,” Venti says as he cautiously retrieves his phone and the arm drops like dead weight.
“I’m not going to get the police involved, there’s really no need,” he laughs nervously, “that thing on your arm though?” he winces. “How about we go to the hospital?”
The man’s eyes widen and he resolutely shakes his head. Venti notices it looks like he’s about to flee.
“We won’t do that,” he rushes to add, “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want. I’m really thankful you returned my phone so please, if you don’t have anywhere to be, come home with me tonight, let me take a look at whatever that is.”
Bummer that this is the context he has to first utter those words.
“Could I please have your name?” Venti asks softly, like he’s speaking to a cornered deer.
The man’s lip wobbles and he seems to think for a second before choking out a rough “Xiao.”
“How about this Xiao, if you come home with me and have a coffee with me tomorrow, then this?” he shakes his phone in the air, “this is old news.”
“I stole your phone.” Xiao clarifies as though Venti is stupid.
“I know.” He nods.
“I stole it. I’m a thief”
“You’re hardly a thief if you’ve just stolen one thing.”
“I could steal other things, from other people,” Xiao continues to say, and his voice always sounds like it’s on the edge of breaking and that crushes Venti.
“Well then,” he says with a laugh, “guess I’ll have to keep a close eye on you to make sure that doesn’t happen. Looks like you’re stuck with me for the foreseeable future.”
Xiao looks at Venti like he’s a puzzle that doesn’t make sense. This is honestly reasonable considering not everyone invites their thief to come home with them. Maybe he truly has gone insane, who can say?
“Come stay at the house with me?”
“No”.
“Where are you going to sleep?”
Xiao taps his foot on the ground twice. Venti doesn’t understand. “Here,” he says.
“You’re sleeping here?!” Venti says in horror.
“Yes.”
“Come with me.”
“We,” Xiao says with his head averted, “we do not leech off of others.”
Venti does not understand who these ‘we’ are, but it is clear Xiao is prideful and won’t accept his invitation unless it’s more modest.
“Just take my couch for tonight?” Venti smiles softly.
Xiao considers this for a long moment, then looks down and nods once hesitantly.
You
so
smth just happened
Albedo
Oh no
You
wdym oh no
it cld be a good thing L
Albedo
I can practically feel you freaking out behind the screen right now
Of course it’s not a good thing.
You
keep my order readi tmrw
Albedo
I’m really scared but okay.