pairing: kaeya alberich/reader
rating: general
summary: Lisa’s tired of watching you pine after her colleague, and devises a plan to get the two of you together.
The holidays are busy, and Monstadt is no exception. Even the headquarters of Knights of Favonius are bustling with activity: knights running around the hallways carrying boxes and stacks of papers in their hands, nearly tripping their own feet; citizens coming and going out of Jean’s office to talk to her about one thing or another; and Jean in the center of it all, listening to the citizens’ requests and relaying orders to her knights.
Filled with excited conversations and full of life, you can tell that everyone is excited for the holidays, talking about where they want to spend their holidays or the plans they’ve made with their loved ones.
“Is it always like this?” you ask, your attention completely on Jean, watching as she sighs and shakes her head. Somehow, she seems to be looking only more and more troubled as each second passes.
“Only during the holidays,” Lisa responds from somewhere behind you, and you quietly glance at her from the corners of your eyes. She meets your gaze with a smile, and then turns to watch the scene in front of her, smiling in amusement. “We’re less busier when it’s just a normal day.”
You nod at her in response, and for a moment, everything is quiet. Jean sits back down on her chair, murmuring incoherently to herself as she buries her head in her hands. Curious, you open your mouth to ask her about the latest trouble, when the door to her office suddenly flies open, startling you out of your speech.
You turn toward the door, watching as Kaeya barges in, carrying a stack of boxes in his hands. He drops them unceremoniously on the floor, and laughs sheepishly when Jean glares at him in reprimand. He turns toward you, and gives you a grin when he spots you staring.
“There you are!” he says brightly, and the smile on his lips is enough to send butterflies in your stomach. You hate how he always makes you feel this way: warm and weak in the knees, desperate for an ounce of his attention. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”
You feel your cheeks heat up at his words, though you’re quick to quash the warmth sinking into your bones, scolding yourself for even feeling such a thing. Stop it, you think, He only sees you as a friend!
“What’s up?” you ask, and it’s hard to sound so casual when he’s looking at you like this: his attention completely focused on you, as though you’re the only thing he sees. Nothing else. No one else.
“I was wondering if you could help me out a bit,” he replies, his smile widening just a fraction. He leans against the door, crossing his arms over his chest and eyeing the pile of boxes by his feet. “Jean suggested that we ought to make the headquarters a bit livelier for the holidays, so we decided to put up a tree and decorate.”
“I’d love to help,” you say, even before he could ask you the question. He laughs, eyes twinkling in amusement, and you feel your breath hitch in your throat, your heart hammering against your chest, so quick and so loud you could almost hear it. Gods, you hate how he can make you feel like this with little effort.
“Wonderful,” he says with a smile. “Let’s get started then, shall we?”
-
The hours pass by in relative silence, and the two of you wander around the headquarters with boxes in your hands, covered in head to toe with decorations: garlands wrapped around your neck, lanterns hanging around your fingers, christmas lights tied loosely around your arms, red and green following you everywhere, even as you close your eyes and daydream for a moment.
And now it is done, and all that’s left is to admire your work, but a familiar voice stops you in your tracks, freezing you in place.
“Stop right there,” Lisa says, and her voice is strong, loud, enough to echo in the sudden silence of the room. You turn around to face her, blinking in confusion when you find her staring at you, her hands resting on her hips. She seems different somehow, and you swallow nervously, afraid you’ve angered her for some reason. “Don’t move a single step.”
A tense silence envelops the entire room, and unable to bear it any longer, you open your mouth and ask, your voice quiet, uncertain. “What’s wrong?”
She smiles at your question, and there’s a dangerous glint in her eyes when she speaks—a sight that nearly makes you shudder in fear. Uh-oh.
“There is a popular tradition in Mondstadt,” she begins, and her voice is soft and low, as though she is merely regaling a tale. “With how long you’ve been here, surely, you must have already heard of it?”
You rack your brain for an answer, but nothing comes to mind. “What tradition?” you ask, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.
“Oh, come on,” she says with a huff, crossing her arms over her chest and rolling her eyes, as though she doesn’t expect you to not know something so trivial. “You’re both under the mistletoe. You know what that means: stop stalling and just kiss.”
“W-what?!” you exclaim, your eyes wide with surprise. You feel your cheeks heating up, and it’s hard to keep your attention on Lisa, when all you could feel is a familiar presence beside you: so close and so warm that it’s almost hard to ignore. Almost. “I’ve never heard of this tradition before!”
“It’s a holiday tradition,” Lisa replies nonchalantly, shrugging. You don’t fail to catch the smile playing on her lips, seemingly even wider than before, and somehow, you have a bad feeling about this. You narrow your eyes into a glare, opening your mouth to protest, but the man beside you interrupts before the words could even leave your lips.
Beside you, Kaeya chuckles, clearly amused with the situation, and you feel your stomach drop. You turn around to face him, swallowing nervously when you find him already staring at you, his lips curled up into a smile, playful and mischievous. Oh, no.
“Kaeya…” you begin, and you aren’t even sure if it’s a warning or a plea. He hums under his breath, tilting his head to the side and feigns confusion, and the rest of your words die down in your throat, your mouth suddenly going very dry.
“We can’t defy tradition,” he says with a shrug, as though the whole thing is something so simple. When he turns back to face you, you can see that his eyes are alight with mischief. “Unless you don’t want to kiss me?”
“I-it’s not that!” you exclaim, feeling your cheeks grow hotter by the moment.
“So you do want to kiss me!” he says with a chuckle, and the twinkle in his eyes are brighter than before. “And here I thought Lisa’s only been toying with my emotions.”
“I’ll never lie about something like that,” Lisa shoots back from somewhere around you, though her words are lost in the pounding of your heart. You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out but a sound—quiet and incoherent; and between the warmth of his presence and the intensity of his gaze, you find that you are already pinned. A deer caught in the headlights, suddenly unable to move.
You don’t know how many seconds pass between you, don’t know how long you’ve stood there looking like a fool: jaw slack, mouth open—a fish out of water. He hums under his breath, and steps closer toward you, just enough to feel his body pressing against yours, warm and solid. Real.
You want to look away, to turn your head and close your eyes, but you can’t. His gaze pins you in place, caging you in. Time stops, and the world is suddenly narrowed into a single moment, a single entity—him.
Slowly, he closes the distance between you. His breath is hot against your skin, and his hands are warm as he cups your cheek, calloused fingers tenderly caressing your skin before he finally leans in and kisses you. It’s short and sweet: the barest feeling of his lips against yours, and all too suddenly, it’s over—the familiar warmth on your lips gone, replaced only by the feel of the chilly air brushing against you.
There’s a quiet clapping from somewhere around you, and you blink, suddenly pulled back into reality. You turn to the direction of the sound, and find Lisa staring at the two of you, a huge smile on her face. “Finally,” she says, closing her eyes and sighing in relief. “You don’t know how frustrating it was watching you pine.”
She nods at the two of you, and then begins to walk back to her desk, leaving you gaping after her: your jaw slack, your eyes wide with shock. “Wait!” you call after her, the earlier moment suddenly forgotten, replaced by a sudden burning curiosity. “Is the tradition even true or not?”
But the only response she gives you is a chuckle, and somehow, you already feel like you know the answer.