"Look at me," Cyno whispers softly, tangled in the hand-woven sheets you bought for him from your last visit to Sumeru. His hand reaches out to brush your hair out of your face. "I'm reduced to mess or less in your arms."

Cyno had never viewed himself as a 'loving man'; one who loves and is deserving of loving. Yet when he met you, it was as if something inside of him changed. He has never felt the warmth of an embrace before you, nor felt the gentle press of lips against his. He figured he'd be embarrassed to be showered in your kisses, dodging them or telling you to quit, because Gods above his face is just as red as the crimson he's spilled.

Cyno is not a good man. He never has thought of himself as good. He does what he's told without question; yet with you, he feels as if all sin has been washed away.

"You're so beautiful," Cyno whispers softly, his hands tenderly tucking hair behind your ears. "You know I love you, don't you? You're like .. a desert rose, blooming in an oasis."

"You're so sappy, Cyno," you giggled softly, smile warm in the cool night of his home. "I didn't take you for the romantic type."

"You've changed me, I think," he whispers. "For the better, of course."

Cyno brushes a kiss to your forehead. He has never known good, until he felt it laying in his arms, kissing him goodnight.