Wind swirled around you, leaves fluttering and dancing through the air like personal ballerinas to the bard.

As usual, he was stood beneath the Statue of Barbatos, fingers strumming his lyre.

Often, his ballads were tales of a traveller, accomplishments of gods and feats of heroes. Though…todays song seemed to be rather different.

Venti’s eyes were shut, his cheeks a little red as he spoke of a love he held. It was…a rather sweet sight, if anything.

When the bard finished, he opened his eyes, viridescent pearls landing on you. He smiled, and went a little more red. You’d never seen him like this before- face a flush.

“Did you like it?” He asked eagerly, hoping you hadn’t noticed the subject of his ballad’s affectionate prose. “I wrote it drunk a couple weeks back, spent agesss tweaking it” Venti tried to play off his embarrassment.

“It’s probably the only ballad I’ve…properly tried to make good in ages.” He softly admitted, eyes flitting to his lyre to adjust the cecila flower he’d placed on it.