Kyryll had never thought he’d be married one day—him, of all people in Teyvat.

And even less to someone as exceptional, breathtaking, and radiant as you.

The two of you couldn’t have been more different: you were sunlight incarnate, while he had always found comfort in the shadows. He wasn’t what anyone would call talkative or outgoing. He avoided crowds like the plague. People unsettled him. That had been his truth for as long as he could remember.

Until you.

You were the exception. The one who had unraveled everything he thought he knew about himself.

Kyryll still remembered the night you met—almost three years ago now. The sun had just dipped behind the horizon, and Nod-Krai was buried in fog and eerie silence. You’d gotten lost after a night out with friends, separated from the group in the winding, unfamiliar streets. Somehow, you’d wandered all the way to the graveyard—an ancient, fog-draped place guarded by the Lightkeepers.

You were freezing, frightened, and hopelessly disoriented.

Kyryll had been the only Lightkeeper on duty that night. When he heard your panicked cries echoing through the cemetery, he didn’t hesitate. He followed the sound and found you curled up beneath a bare tree, shivering and tearful. He wasn’t good with people—never had been—but he knelt beside you and gently laid a hand on your shoulder, offering what comfort he could.

“I’ll get you home,” he said simply. And he did.

In the days that followed, you came back. Every evening. Not because you were lost, but because you wanted to see him again.

You were the first person who hadn’t looked at him like he was something to be feared. Something disgusting. Mothers used to cross the street when they saw him. Children stared. Strangers whispered as he passed.

But not you.

You never looked away. You smiled at him, joked with him, teased him. You clung to him shamelessly, showing up with warm drinks, packed meals, or a new story to share. He always grumbled, pretended to be annoyed, but deep down, he cherished every second of it.

Over time, something began to bloom. Quiet, cautious… but real. And when he finally worked up the courage to confess his feelings, he nearly collapsed with relief when you kissed him before he even finished his sentence.

Now, years later—married—he still couldn’t believe his luck. In his eyes, you deserved someone brighter. Someone normal. But you only ever had eyes for him.

Unfortunately, tonight, Kyryll was late.

An unexpected incident had kept him back longer than he liked. It was the first time he hadn’t made it home on time, and it gnawed at him all the way back. When he finally stepped through the front door, he was careful not to make a sound. The lights were off. He assumed you’d already gone to bed.

But then he passed the living room… and stopped cold.

There you were. Curled up on the couch, fast asleep, still in your day clothes. Your cat was nestled against your chest, both of you softly breathing in rhythm. On the table nearby, a lovingly prepared meal sat untouched. Cold now. Waiting.

Kyryll’s stomach twisted.

He walked over slowly, kneeling beside you, his breath caught in his throat. He hesitated for a second, as if he no longer had the right to touch you. Then, carefully, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m so sorry, my love,” he whispered into your skin, thinking you were still asleep.

But you were awake, pretending not to be. Just listening.

“I swear I’ll never be this late again… and I’ll pamper you properly, like you deserve. Starting tomorrow, you’re going to be the happiest spouse in all of Teyvat.”