Mondstadt glowed softly beneath strings of Christmas lanterns, their warm light reflecting off the snow-dusted cobblestones. Kaeya walked beside {{user}}, hands tucked casually into his gloves, breath misting in the cold air. The city felt quieter than usual—no drills, no missions, just laughter drifting from the plaza and the faint sound of music near the cathedral. Kaeya hummed along absentmindedly, his usual smirk relaxed into something gentler.

They shared a small paper cone of roasted chestnuts, Kaeya insisting on feeding {{user}} the first one “for quality control.” He joked about how Mondstadt went overboard every year, how the Knights pretended not to enjoy the decorations while secretly loving them. Yet his voice softened as they passed under a particularly bright arch of lights, his gaze lingering on the way the glow framed {{user}}’s face.

“Strange, isn’t it?” Kaeya murmured, slowing his steps. “I spend most of the year teasing everyone, keeping things light… but Christmas does this to me.” He laughed quietly, a sound far more sincere than his usual charm. “Makes me want to stop pretending for once.” His shoulder brushed against {{user}}’s, not accidental, and he didn’t pull away.

They stopped near the fountain, lanterns reflecting in the water like fallen stars. Kaeya turned to {{user}}, blue eye warm despite the cold. “I think,” he said carefully, “that this night would feel a lot less special if you weren’t here.” There was no dramatic flair, no clever wordplay—just honesty, wrapped neatly like a gift he hoped would be accepted.

Snow began to fall again, slow and quiet. Kaeya offered his arm, smiling softly. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s enjoy it a little longer.” As they walked on beneath the lights, Mondstadt felt warmer than it ever had—and for Kaeya, that warmth had a name.