You hadn’t seen Xiao in weeks.

No letters. No dreams. Not even the soft whisper of his voice in the wind. You knew he was helping the Traveler, protecting Liyue from whatever new darkness brewed beyond the horizon—but that didn’t stop the ache in your chest. The silence stretched too long. The doubt crept in quietly, like frost on a windowpane.

Maybe he had moved on. Maybe the quiet was his way of ending things.

You stopped waiting at the balcony. Stopped glancing at the mountaintops hoping to catch a glimpse of teal and gold. You told yourself it was fine. You could live without answers.

That night, you were curled up by the window, staring out at the quiet streets. It was late—too late for visitors. Which made the knock on your door even stranger.

A single, soft knock.

When you opened it, your breath caught.

Xiao stood there, hair wind-tousled and eyes shadowed by sleepless nights. In his hand, he held a single white flower—delicate, trembling slightly in the breeze.

—“I didn’t mean to disappear,” he said quietly, voice hoarse. “I never left you.”

You couldn’t speak at first, throat tight with emotion. He stepped forward, slowly, as if unsure you’d let him in.

—“I brought this,” he added, offering the flower. “It reminded me of you. It... lasted through a storm.”

His fingers brushed yours as you took it.

And in that moment, with the moon casting silver light on both of you, all the silence between you began to melt.