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Thinking back, Aether actually could hardly remember anything that happened in those final couple of months. It wasn’t like before, where he couldn’t reach behind the despair that clouded his brain into his recollection. Rather, the opposite was true—the days that passed were so uniformly serene and heartwarming that none of them stuck out to him.
It was almost enough for him to forget that something very dear to him was still missing—but really, it never left his mind entirely.
That was how he and the others ended up once again on the cliff overlooking Dihua Marsh at sunset. The days were still short, so it wasn’t quite time to turn in for the evening; even so, as the daylight faded, drowsiness began to tug at Aether’s eyelids. At the very least, he and the others could relax and appreciate the view before they slept. Regardless of the time of day, Aether would never turn down an opportunity to perch at his favorite spot above the marsh, observing Wangshu Inn in the distance.
And the view was even better when he could enjoy it alongside his favorite people. Previously, looking out over the marsh would summon a pang of loneliness to his heart, but that was no longer the case–not quite so much, anyway.
Just close enough to feel Aether’s warmth, Albedo sat with his gaze set intently on the tablet situated in the crook of one arm. He was so still and peaceful, save for the dance of his hand along the page, that onlookers might think he was a mere painting—but Aether could easily glance over and notice the sparkle of curiosity in his eyes as they flicked between the scenery and his drawing. Indeed, Aether knew that there were rarely times when Albedo felt more alive than when he was creating something. Just on Albedo’s other side stood Childe, taking his regular role of keeping watch over the group.
The evening sun dyed the landscape in a light golden hue. This color’s warmth matched the feeling in Aether’s chest as he cast his eyes over the lowlands—yet the warm feeling wasn’t quite enough to protect against the winter breeze that nipped at his skin as it passed by. He hugged his knees just a bit tighter.
He could have easily fallen asleep that way. Albedo turned his attention to the sunset in the west, and Aether thought nothing of it—even as that sky-blue gaze, gleaming brilliantly in the golden light, lingered there for several seconds.
“Hmm?”
A vocalization of uncertainty, as light and faint as the wind through the grass, escaped Albedo’s throat. Only when Aether noticed Albedo’s hand fall to a dead stop did it occur to him to look in the same direction.
Aether’s body reacted so quickly that he was on his feet before he knew what he was doing.
Some distance away, farther down the slope, stood Xiao, silhouetted by the setting sun.
The rush of blood from his head that rocked Aether’s consciousness confirmed that he was not dreaming.
Maybe a trick of the light? Indeed, the view from this angle, with Aether staring directly into the sun, was not ideal. And while the sashes adorning Xiao’s clothing fluttered in the occasional gust of wind, he was otherwise as still as a statue. Perhaps this really was an illusion after all.
Aether took one precarious step down the hill, followed by another. And then another.
Still Xiao did not move, though from here Aether could begin to make out the features of his face. Xiao’s golden eyes burned as steadily as fearless flames, almost brighter than the light of the sun behind him, and his lips formed a perfectly straight line. Aether seemed to remember the same placid, unreadable expression from much of the time he spent with him in the past.
And yet, as Aether approached, that firelight seemed to soften, reach into his heart with its gentle warmth. It was almost enough to break through the cold barrier of disbelief remaining in his chest.
Aether’s gaze traced every contour of Xiao’s body. The way his hair fell in front of his eyes and curled over his shoulders—the shimmer of the tattoo along his arm—the compact, lithe, graceful figure that had lived only in his imagination—how much of it had he forgotten?
Now, it didn’t matter. Even on the infinitesimally small chance he failed to commit Xiao's complete image to memory, he would never have the opportunity to forget it again.
Xiao's gaze, resting patiently as Aether admired him, never left Aether's face. At last their eyes met again. The minuscule shifts in Xiao's attention, the instantaneous flicks of his eyelashes, revealed that he was indeed alive. Aether could almost hear the crackle of the imaginary flames burning in the golden threads of Xiao's eyes, but he figured it was just the wind.
Other than the subtle shifts in his facial expression, Xiao yielded no evident reaction to Aether's approach. It was almost like he was waiting for something. For Aether to look away? Or to speak? Or… to touch him?
Aether gingerly lifted a hand from where it hung at his side. A nagging voice at the back of his head admonished him, claiming that getting too close would break the spell, and the illusion of Xiao would disappear into thin air.
But such a thing never happened.
Aether's hand paused as he decided on a destination. He only broke eye contact for a moment, to work out where his gesture was headed, and then he reached for Xiao's hand.
He allowed their fingers to brush—an almost imperceptibly small point of contact, but through the fabric of their gloves, they did feel each other. A tiny, invisible spark of recognition jumped between them. For the first time since their separation eleven months ago, they had touched.
They were reunited.
Aether planned to gradually reach for Xiao's hand, holding it gently in his own as he welcomed him back with a smile. He rehearsed these actions in his head many times in the second or two it took him to move his arm, until he was sure he could execute it perfectly.
Though not unpleasantly, that plan immediately flew out the figurative window.
It took him a moment to register why Xiao's face had disappeared from his field of vision, until his brain processed the sound and sensation of their bodies colliding. Xiao had leapt for him, capturing him in a fierce embrace, casting his arms tightly around Aether's back and burying his face so deeply in his neck that Aether marveled that Xiao did not suffocate. Xiao's grip was both passionate and inescapable. His fingers dug into the back of Aether's shoulder and into the bare skin of his waist, an almost crushing force against his flesh that highlighted in Aether's imagination the defined contours of the muscles in Xiao's arms. Xiao's firm nuzzle brought his hair to tickle the tender flesh of Aether's throat and lips. The deep breath pulsing through Xiao's body displaced Aether's chest in a rush of warmth and closeness and familiarity.
The burst of physical affection seemed to melt Aether's insides in a single blast until tears started to well up silently in his eyes and the air struggled to escape his throat.
Perhaps still in a state of awe and disbelief, he slowly allowed his arms to fall around Xiao's body. One hand found its way along Xiao's side, pressing into the thin fabric separating his skin from Aether's touch, while the other nestled into Xiao's hair on the back of his head. Aether put all of his energy into etching the sensation of Xiao's form permanently into his memory.
This moment—this is what the last eleven months were all for.
And Xiao's faint movements as he relished the embrace told Aether that time did indeed continue to pass.
It was all real.
Aether struggled to decide what to say first.
"Welcome back, my love."
Xiao's response was to wordlessly shift his grip, crane his neck just a bit more. Aether thought for sure that Xiao could never hold him any tighter.
He could easily recall what Xiao's voice sounded like. He might grunt in agreement—a quiet but harsh noise, grinding against the eardrums, one that, at this proximity, would surely grant Aether the opportunity to feel it rumble from the depths of Xiao's chest.
But right now, no such noise came. And Aether wanted to hear it again.
"We're together again—as we should be."
Xiao shifted once more, now pressing his face higher into Aether's neck, almost to his jaw. Though still firm and certain against Aether's body, Xiao's arms started to drop. Aether thought he felt, through the supple flesh of Xiao's back, something inside him stiffen—almost like he was choking back a sob.
It's all right. He'll talk when he's ready. Aether had no business forgetting that Xiao was the quiet type who spared no more words than absolutely necessary—which made the sound of his voice all the more precious.
Aether allowed his hands to wander, softly caressing Xiao's head and torso.
"I missed you."
Just another vague shift in response. Aether felt that Xiao might lift him into the air at any moment. Or was the tension in his body…?
"I missed you so much…"
"...Xiao."
Something snapped.
It all happened in a fraction of a second—just after the sound of his name left Aether's mouth. Aether didn't even have the time to feel puzzled, or worried, or surprised, or relieved.
Xiao's breath coursed into his lungs, grating against the back of his throat. It might have been a sob, or just a deep inhale.
The hand that was on Aether's back rose to cradle his face, alighting urgently on his cheek.
And the image of Xiao's expression as he briefly leaned out of the embrace—his forehead deeply creased, his eyebrows heavy over his furiously blazing eyes, his teeth gritted and glistening beneath his slightly parted lips.
For just that moment, Aether felt a pang of shock in his heart. Shock at the intensity of Xiao's face—that, and the jarring sense of deja vu that would have flashed him back to a very similar situation, eleven months ago, at their time of parting, had he any spare time at all to let his attention wander.
But he was not granted that opportunity.
For in the next instant, Xiao's lips were upon his.
All of the desperation and longing he must have felt over the last eleven months were poured into that kiss, the pressure so harsh and tenacious against Aether's mouth that he thought it might eat away his skin.
His eyes closed.
Aether's reaction was almost instinctual—he opened his mouth to yield to Xiao's impetus, tilting his chin, hooking his jaw against Xiao's for some vague, perhaps futile sense of stability. His hands ended up holding Xiao's face, guiding it, his fingers curving around the back of Xiao's head. Xiao's kiss was powerful, relentless, and Aether kissed him back, casting moderation to the wind to make up for almost an entire year of kisses they had missed, compensated for in this one moment. Xiao's voice spilled erratically from his throat, following the fluctuating hold of their lips, and Aether, likewise, abandoned discretion of his own voice, allowing sighs and whimpers to overflow from deep in his chest.
He wanted that kiss to never end. His heart was on fire, and the sheer force of Xiao's mouth against his was the most certain sensation he could recall experiencing.
They only parted when they were completely out of breath. Xiao's chest heaved for air as he collapsed against Aether—and Aether, never the stronger of the two, barely managed to hold his posture against Xiao's weight. Fortunately, Xiao seemed to realize his mistake soon enough, and planted his feet before Aether lost his balance entirely.
Aether stabilized himself with a gentle grip on Xiao's shoulders. When Xiao looked back up at him, there was a pale vulnerability shining in his eyes that Aether couldn't remember ever seeing before, even in his wildest dreams. Almost like Xiao was afraid of something… maybe he, too, was afraid to let go.
In spite of everything, Aether let his lips spread into a warm smile.
"I take it you missed me, too."
His arms already folded up against Aether's chest, Xiao leaned in again for a much lighter, more tender embrace, his forehead softly resting against Aether's cheek.
And at long last, he spoke.
His voice was just like Aether remembered it—airy, rough, yet faint like a breeze after it had weaved through the stout limbs of a tall, ancient tree, adopting the jagged texture of its bark.
"I did."
And though Aether perhaps forgot them for the moment, Albedo and Childe observed all this from afar. There was no question, from the second their eyes had locked, that this was the man Aether had been waiting for all this time, and their passionate touch only more firmly cemented this obvious fact. Yet no frustration or disgust stirred in their hearts—only a quiet, warm resolve, a certainty that their beloved traveler was finally truly happy—finally whole.
Albedo, in particular, couldn't help but think of a passage from a tome he had perused at some point in the distant past, and brought these words to his voice now, setting it free on the wind as it drifted across the plains of Mondstadt and the lowlands of Liyue, enveloping the vast land of Teyvat in its blessing.
"There, you would come to him—now you are together again."