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Being dragged along a jagged dirt path by someone significantly shorter than you was strange, especially since that person was a god in disguise who spent his days drinking away the bad memories. He wasn't as eager as when he fist slipped his arm through the crook of your elbow to walk side by side the way lovers do, but his energy was still a great match for you, who had just got done crying an embarrassing amount and was holding a heavy, delicate parcel.

He babbled incessantly about how nice the wind was today, ironic since he was the one doing it, and how excited he was to get back to his home city after so long away. You were tempted to call him out on his bullshit but saw no need too and instead nodded with a customer service smile on your face until the two of you lapped into silence.

Truly you weren't annoyed by him, you just didn't have the energy to deal with his brighter personality. He was one of your favorites, his story being compelling and his ideals being something you could get behind. But right now you wanted to crash on your new bed and think about how you were going to arrange the beautiful frames that you received, even though you didn't have any pictures.

The quietness of the walk now that Venti had calmed down and stopped pulling on your arm, seemingly no longer in a hurry, was nice.

And it was gone in two seconds.

"So," the bard piped up, his voice no less peppy than it was a few minutes ago. "Has there been any good poetry since I've been? Have the bards been holding up Mond's good name?"

You smirked. "I don't know, how long have you been gone?" You glanced at his face to see a twinkle in his eyes, once you couldn't discern the meaning of. "Kidding. I don't follow many of the performances."

"No love for poetry or song?" He bumped his hip against yours, a teasing look on his face.

"No I do, I've just been focused on other things recently."

"So what do you enjoy?"

Though poetry was never your 'thing', you did have a few poets you liked back on Earth. Venti was gonna push if you were vague, and as one who's probably been keeping up with all forms of art for the past 4000 years or so, 'oh just a couple authors here and there' was not gonna cut it.

"Oh I- well I like this one poem that I'm really fond of, it's one of my favorites."

Venti giggled, squeezing your arm. "Well don't just leave me hanging! What is it?"

"It's called uh- Death of a Young Woman."

"Hm." Venti hummed. He tapped his chin with his pointer finger, deep in thought. "I haven't heard that one. Will you tell it to me?"

Yeah because it's by someone who doesn't fucking exist here. You think, but out loud you say, "Yeah my mom wrote it." No she didn't. "She liked writing poetry but she never published anything, liked to keep it to herself ya know?. It goes-

She died on a hot day. In a way

Nothing was different. The stretched white

Sheet of her skin tightened no further.

She was fragile as a yacht before,

Floating so still on the blue day's length,

That one would not know when the breath

Blew out and the sail finally slackened.

Our conversations were silent.

The difference was that I'm her house

The people were broken by her loss.

He wept for her and for the hard tasks

He had lovingly done, for the short,

Fierce life she lived in the white bed,

For the burden he had put down for good.

As we sat huddled in pubs supporting

Him with beer and word's warm breath,

We felt the hollowness of his release.

Our own ungrateful health prowled, young,

Gauche about her death. He was polite

Isolated. Free. No point in going home."

You finished reciting the poem, surprised that, even though it truly was one of your favorites, you remembered it so clearly. You turned to Venti, not expecting a kind of sadness you were unable to comprehend. Even though he looked young and carefree, his eyes were heavy now, with memories and old loss you knew but didn't know.

"Why do you like this poem?" He sounded somber, but there was no judgment, just genuine curiosity.

You sucked in a breath. "Well I like how it talks about grief and how conflicting it can be. How a man can love someone so much, yet feel unburdened by her death, and guilty for feeling such. How some feel regret for living while others die and how some simply wallow in despair and tears. I like how it's shown that grief can take multiple forms, and none are depicted as bad, just that the situation is depressing for everyone." You cocked your head, shocked at your own rant. "At least, that's how I interpret it. Every author has their own intentions with their works."

"And you think no form of expressing grief is bad?"

You shook your head. "Well not exactly. If you're hurting yourself and others, then it's not good and you probably need some outside help, but if not, then I don't think there's any wrong way to express grief, or honor someone's memory." You glanced away from Venti's inquisitive gaze, not meaning to let that last part slip.

Next to you, Venti giggled again. Somehow, it was less excitable, less outgoing than any other laugh he'd had all walk, but it felt so much more unguarded than the others. "Well, I didn't think our little walk would get so deep."

You barked out a laugh, just so shocked that after your rant and the not so subtlety of you, that was his response. "Neither was I."

The rest of the walk was not drenched in Venti's overly chipper voice and cheesy rhymes or the companionable silence, but with banter and you encouraging Venti to tell you more about traditional Mondstadt songs, poetry, stories, and more. His tone was light and happy and yours matched, growing more comfortable around him by the second.

By the time you made it to the gate you almost didn't want him to slip his arm from your own, content with hearing his memorizing voice pull you in with more classic Mondstadt ballads.

Reluctantly, the two of you parted, with him offering to meet up once more for him to share more stories and you more of your 'mother's' poetry, and with you pointing him towards the Angel's Share. You waved and watched him skip, his eyes brighter than they had been the whole trip, now that he was back in his city.

Following the path you'd tried to get used to these past few days, you arrived at the doorstep of your apartment. Creaking open the door you stepped into a fairly barren living room with only a couch, ottoman, side tables and carpet to fill up the empty space. The living room, kitchen (whichever was to the left), and the entryway had no personal decoration, but that was gonna change.

Moving to the small dining room, which was next to the kitchen, you dropped the Kamera and box of frames on the four person, circular, dining table. The slim light fixture hanging above it swayed as you swept past it to go down the hallway, passing the guest bathroom, to your bedroom.

Swinging the door open you caught sight of your, very comfortable looking, queen bed in a thin frame. Ariel was draped over a velvet love seat that you had bought and pushed up against the window so he could lament, or whatever he does, in the shimmering rays of the sun.

You had told Ariel you were okay with getting an apartment with two bedrooms, but Ariel called you on your bullshit real quick saying that all the apartments with two bedrooms were really expensive. He said he didn't mind rooming with you, feeling better that he was closer to you anyway in case something went wrong, and you didn't mind being near him so you accepted the nice single bedroom apartment that you had your eyes on.

"Hey." You called him. He cracked open his eyes, blinking annoyingly at the sunlight streaming through the window, forgetting that he actually liked when the sunlight warmed his skin. "Guess what I got?"

"What did you get?" He murmured.

You grinned, clapping your hands together. "I got a Kamera."

"Really?" He sat up, smiling at your little calf lifts of excitement. "I thought they were super expensive and uncommon, how'd you find one?"

You grinned shyly, unconsciously looking to the ground. "Actually Diluc got it for me."

His eyebrow raised, smile loose and teasing. "Oh?"

"Shut up." You rolled your eyes and gestured for him to follow you to the dining room. He did and you presented the Kamera and frames, shaking your jazz hands.

"Nice." He commented, picking up the Kamera and turning it over in his hands. "What do you want the first picture to be of?"

"I don't know." You shrugged. You leaned against his shoulder. "Kinda want a picture of Diluc, Kaeya, and I."

"Your new friends?"

"Yeah wouldn't it be nice? I could give them copies too."

Ariel smiled softly at you, wrapping his arm around your waist. "I'm sure they'd both love that, but I'm sorry I won't show up in any of the pictures."

You sighed, disappointed but not surprised. "Yeah I figured. I'll be sad we can't hang up some pictures of us but, maybe I can draw you instead."

"You can't draw."

"Then I'll commission a portrait or something I don't know."

"Others can't see me." You looked at his crinkled eyes and lips pressed tight to stop a laugh.

"Ariel you're getting on my fucking nerves." But you couldn't help the smile creeping on your face either and you both busted out laughing.

-

Dinner was an anticipated affair with it being your first home cooked meal.

You liked cooking, never being the best but enjoying the relaxing motions of mixing and experimenting with what you did know. You found yourself better at baking than cooking but you couldn't exactly have an entire chocolate cake for dinner.

Well... maybe you could. But you didn't want to risk getting chastised by Ariel, who would no doubt raise a fuss about your unhealthy option.

Tonight you decided on making some simple soup with rice, chicken, vegetables, and herbs, pouring a nice large bowl for yourself with a glass of water.

You set the table, placing your bowl down along with a bowl for Ariel, who could eat (and was rather surprised when you thought he couldn't, looking at you with the most deadpan expression, saying that he was only invisible, not intangible). He thanked you and dug in, complimenting your mediocre skill, but it made you smile anyway.

You just made food, in your own place, with someone you care about. It felt nice, it felt calming. A complete contrast from what you knew was gonna come.

You knew the situation with Dvalin would get worse until Aether came, that it would probably stress you out. You had resolved that you were gonna help, but already you felt like you wanted to collapse and the worse hasn't even come yet.

It didn't matter. You were gonna help in the best way you can. Until then, you were gonna enjoy this soup.