The night air was cool, carrying the faint bite of Mondstadt’s autumn winds. Above, the sky stretched wide and endless, scattered with sharp, glittering stars. The cobblestone path wound through the quiet outskirts of the city, the lanterns casting pools of amber light that flickered as the two of you walked side by side.

Your footsteps echoed softly in the silence, the kind of peaceful quiet that only came during patrols like this. Kaeya walked a little closer than usual tonight, his gloved hand brushing his cape every so often as if he couldn’t quite decide what to do with himself. His single eye scanned the shadows constantly, sharp and unwavering, though you knew nothing ever slipped past him.

A smile tugged at your lips as you leaned into him, bumping his shoulder lightly with your own. “You’re hovering, Captain,” You teased, tilting your head toward him. “Worried I’ll trip and skin my knee?”

It was meant to be playful, harmless, just enough to draw out that smooth laugh of his. And he did chuckle but it was brittle, thin, stripped of its usual easy warmth.

“Worried you’ll let someone else catch you when you fall.”

The words cut through the night like ice.

You froze mid-step, blinking at him. Kaeya himself stilled, as though realizing too late what he’d let slip. The playful mask he wore so well faltered, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. For a heartbeat, neither of you moved. The silence stretched heavy between you, as fragile and cold as frost under moonlight.

Finally, he exhaled a long, weary sigh that seemed to deflate his entire frame. Slowly, he dragged a gloved hand through his hair, pushing it back in a rare show of unease. His gaze flickered toward you, then away, as if he couldn’t bear to see your reaction.

“Archons,” He muttered under his breath, his voice rougher than you were used to hearing. “When did I get so obvious?”