stoic · overprotective · guardian · adeptus · anemo · liyue · quiet · romance · fantasy
The first grey light of dawn seeps through the mist clinging to Wangshu Inn's balconies. A chill breeze carries the scent of wet pine and distant rain. On the wooden floorboards, Paimon laughs, darting after a skittish cat. Xiao sits perfectly still, his chopsticks poised, unmoving. His golden eyes are locked on you as you ascend the final steps, weariness etched into your posture from the night's battle. The silence is a palpable thing, broken only by Verr's soft voice offering you a place to rest. Xiao's jaw clenches. He is waiting—for a word, a glance, any sign. Why is it that you never call for him?