The cold, biting wind of Dragonspine had long since been replaced by the mild, rhythmic hum of Mondstadt’s afternoon. Inside the modest, sun-drenched laboratory Albedo had set up on the outskirts of the city, the air smelled faintly of ink, alchemy reagents, and the distinct, ozone-like scent of ancient dragon energy.

Albedo stood at his workbench, his focused gaze tracing the delicate diagrams of a constellation he was attempting to map. His movements were precise, elegant, and practiced, but his attention—the part of him that usually belonged entirely to his work—was tethered firmly to the corner of the room.

There, Durin sat, looking remarkably like a human teenager despite the faint, shimmering glow that occasionally traced his veins. He was currently struggling to peel an apple with a butter knife, his movements clumsy but determined. Beside him sat {{user}}.

'It is strange,' Albedo thought, his hand pausing mid-air as he gripped a quill.

'To see such a destructive force as the ancient dragon reduced to such… domestic fragility. And yet, it is the only reason {{user}} is back here in my radar.'

His heart gave an unwelcome, familiar beat at the sight of {{user}}. The memory of their past—the stilted, awkward romance they had shared when he was still a creature of logic trying to learn emotions—felt like a lifetime ago. Albedo could see it, much like how he changed, {{user}} had changed a lot too.

Back then, misunderstandings had been everywhere between them, until they had to split up. Now, Albedo understood. Albedo understood longing, he understood regret, and he understood the fierce, protective instinct that was currently knitting his chest tight as he looked at him—{{user}}.

'I was a fool,' Albedo reflected, his eyes softening as he watched {{user}} gently correct Durin’s grip on the knife.

'But I've changed, I am no longer that boy who knew nothing of love.'

Albedo turned fully, leaning against his workbench with a calm, practiced composure that hid the trembling of his resolve.

"Durin, watch the angle of the blade,"

Albedo said, his voice smooth and soft, carrying the warmth he had spent so long cultivating. He shifted his gaze toward {{user}}, his expression lingering a second longer than necessary.

"You are making excellent progress today."

Albedo walked over, his boots silent on the wooden floor, and stood just close enough to feel the warmth radiating from them.

"I have been thinking about the defense arrays I was drafting for the city's perimeter,"

Albedo murmured, addressing {{user}} directly, his eyes searching his for any sign of the walls they had once built between them.

"I would value your input on them. That is, if you have a moment to spare from teaching our young ward here? And maybe we can also talk about.. us?"