#[ delusionaid. ] take your eyes off of me so i can leave.

[orchideae]

Finally removed from the box that had contained it for too long a time and too far a distance, her gaze softened in her watch of him. Or perhaps, it warmed simply at the sight of his confusion at this unusual, yet surely oddly familiar shape before him, one that was now left wrapped in fabrics from exquisite silks to colorful linens. Even they were gifts, and yet none of them would be warmer than what they held concealed tightly within them. She could have spoken then, could have uttered words of wit or promise, but she had chosen silence instead as she often had and would again, and again in his presence. In truth, observing him was often all that she'd longed to do: seeing that curiosity unfold amidst the countenance that she'd see even at the close of her eyes at night when he was impossibly far from craving fingers, and seeing the confusion tickle the corner of his lips. Every twitch of muscle and every glint in those eyes were things that she had come to revel, and they were things that she had lost track of when they'd come to matter as much as they did now. Somehow, and somewhere, he had become the one thing that she didn't understand, and yet understood far better than anything else.

"No." Ah, the need to comment had arisen, and the chuckle that'd come before it had been much too warm in nature. "It's not your regular teapot, I think it's even a little ill-suited for tea brewing." She'd pulled some strings for this numerous moons ago, cashed in favors with the traveler and Liyue's adepti alike, and then owed a tenfold more to a certain renowned Madame Ping. But she would owe another dozen if that was what it had taken her, for no price would be too much anymore. "Don't worry," she whispered in jest, "I promise that there's plenty of tea inside of it." She truly reveled much too fondly in the sight of him still. And so as she fought all urge to lean into his side for now, a smile lingered on her lips to prevail over any confusion that he might feel in reassurance. "When you're ready, lay your hand to it, and close your eyes." If he cannot see Inazuma, Sumeru, Mondstadt or any other of Teyvat's nations, then she would bring them to him. And first, he would see Liyue. He would see the sun and moon take their turns above its shore and he'd see its mountains to his back, and he'd witness its harbor in the distance. But most importantly, he would see a place amidst it all that belonged to no one but him, a place crafted for his escape, a place she crafted for his peace. "I hope that it's to your liking, your Grace," No, he was Wriothesley. He'd become it long ago, sometime before she became his. "—Wriothesley."

A finger rose to move in a slow stroke across his jawline, right up to his chin, as a whisper formed ever quietly on her tongue. It was warm, and filled with promise. "Go, I'll be right behind you."

Happy rebirthday, Wriothesley 💙 // @delusionaid