Random Stories by Mercyy

Genshin - Xiaoven inspired by a friend's artwork

         A warm atmosphere wrapped me around as I sat alone in the restaurant's table. The clicking of cutlery against the dishes along with the soft murmurs of the people around me resonated softly in my head, clearing it from all negative thought. But no sound stole my attention as brusquely as that harmonious piano. Gentle, melodious notes dancing in the air in a melancholic piece, floating into my ears as what felt like a blessing from the gods. I closed my eyes to concentrate solemnly in that song which name I had forgotten. A shiver ran through my spine, shaking my body tenderly, my heart full of feelings —good ones, of course— that I didn't recall experiencing before.

            Where was it coming from? Who was this skilled angel playing it? I demanded to know.

            As golden light filled my sight once again, I stood up, a few strands of hair caressing my face when I turned to where my senses made me believe the beautiful sonnet was coming from.

           I didn't look around much; time felt like it was frozen around me, I wasn't receiving any looks for being the only one who wasn't seating, nor people whispered about the gorgeous girl in the red dress who was probably showing more skin than she should be. The only thing I could see and hear was that melody.

           As I got closer, it only sounded more and more heavenly. Refreshing, calming, stunning. Like freezing water on a hot summer, like sweet, healing elixir to a dying person's lips. It embraced me, called me, and once it ended my ears craved hearing it again. Please, gods, don't forbid me from hearing such perfect tones again, because I will die. Pray tell who's the messenger whom you sent to deliver such a delightful message to me, a mere mortal?

           I finally laid eyes on him after what felt like an eternity. Oh, deities, what did I ever do to be worthy of hearing him make the piano sing so skillfully? To see such a sight, such an astonishing being molded carefully and lovingly by your almighty hands?

            The way he kindly touched every key, producing a chain of notes as pleasing as they can be, eyelashes low and lazy over his honey eyes that burnt with passion, made me feel so... special. The gods had chosen me to hear their ethereal chords, so how could I feel anything less?

           The thought of approaching him crossed my mind, but was I meritorious of speaking to him? He looked as magnificent as he played: like a dark angel, carbon hair covering his concentrated expression, and he probably hid his mighty black wings from most so they didn't notice there was a being from above walking amongst them. But I had discovered his secret, his way of playing the instrument had betrayed him.

          It caught me off guard when his two shy fox eyes suddenly noticed me, curious. His harmony didn't stop, and he played as exceptionally as if he wasn't observing me.

"Xiao?"

          This new, high pitched and gentle voice snatched his eyes away from me, and the tones stopped abruptly. I frowned, upset. Who would dare to interrupt such a godly performance?

          My eyes, too, widened when I met the owner of the voice. Two turquoise braids adorned the sides of his face, and a smile and gaze full of utmost love were directed towards the pianist. A breeze whooshed through us and stopped right above his hands, materializing in the most gorgeous golden lyre I had ever seen in my life.

         He giggled, and it was music to my ears, "why did you stop?"

        His fingers ran through the instrument, producing notes as heavenly as the ones I had heard before —or maybe even more. Without a word, the pianist began playing again, this time with a smile in his face.

          I felt like they had taken me to Heaven, were they both had come from, when their tones mixed perfectly, like they were born to be together.

          I sobbed. Oh, was I crying? I hadn't realized, I was too shocked to think about myself in that moment. It was just so beautiful, so out of this world, gods, was it a dream? It felt like it, because those harmonious chords couldn't have been produced by any normal person in this mortal world.

           Yet there I was, tears of joy streaming down my face; and there they were, playing like there was no tomorrow, narrating their love story.

           As the melody kept hitting my senses, I felt weak on my feet and stumbled, softly falling on my knees. I took my hands to my mouth and smiled through them, enjoying every second of the scene with blurry eyes while it lasted.

           They hit the final notes gracefully, and I felt like standing and clapping until my hands fell off, but I was so stunned by the sight of them that I couldn't even stand.

          The braided boy slowly paced towards the other, reaching for his face and cupping it when he got close, as tenderly as if he thought it was going to break or fade in between his fingers.

"I've missed you," he whispered, and the pianist threw himself into his arms. He held him as if he was his world, with so much affection I didn't think was possible.

            Intertwined, they looked like an angel of light and an angel of darkness, the sun and the moon, the yin and yang. How long had it been since I had felt this happy and blessed?

The pianist hugged him tighter as he mumbled "I missed you too."