There's no way around it. Formal outfits really don't suit you.
You give up at tugging at the hem of your shirt, and start tugging at the neckline instead. You aren't used to showing so much cleavage. You aren't used to owning so much cleavage.
You redirect your fussing to your hair. You'd taken pains to brush it, once, twice, using your silver-backed hairbrush, but the summer air had been thick and heavy on your skin as you'd made your way to the winery, and a brisk wind had ruffled your hair and chafed your cheeks. Surely it must be a tangled mess once again.
You might never have agreed to meet with Crepus and his family if you'd known that you'd be fretting so much about it. It's the first time that you've ever been so serious about anyone before. In fact, it's been a while since you've met anyone as sweet and as caring as Crepus, and you're acutely aware that this meeting is crucial for the future of the relationship. There's no way that you can possibly refuse. That's probably why you're paying so much attention to how you look: you're trying to distract yourself from anticipating an evening full of long, awkward silences where you all dine in a frosty silence. Or an evening where you can feel his children's dislike for you pulse through the air, as they accuse you of using their father for your own selfish means. Neither of these is a particularly appealing prospect. At least, you can look nicely dressed. It might make you feel a little better.
You fingers are shaking as you hold onto a flowered tin. You'll admit that you're eager to curry favour with Crepus and his sons, and surely a few cookies never hurt anyone.
Unless they happen to be allergic to the ingredients.
The though sends you into a fresh panic, and you clutch the tin tighter. Your mouth is dry no matter how often you swallow, and you can't keep from shaking as you climb up the steps and approach the house. The door opens before you can so much as knock, and you wonder if they've been watching with their faces pressed against the window, watching out for your arrival. You try to smile, to cover up the panic coursing through you. A small, round face stares at you, with the widest, most curious eyes.
"Hi." The red-head says boldly. "I'm Diluc. Who are you?" Before you can answer, he tears out of the foyer, yelling, "Kaeyaaaaaaa!"
"Oh –" You say, stepping back uncertainly, but it isn't long before Diluc returns again, with another child in tow. If Diluc is bright and cheerful, Kaeya is much more serious and guarded, preferring to hang back behind his brother, uncertainty colouring his face. "Hello. I'm –"
"We know who you are. You're [ NAME ]! Dad's told us allllllll about you!" Diluc says, oblivious to your discomfort. He continues speaking before you even have a chance to reply, turning large eyes onto the tin still clutched in your hands, as though it might possibly protect you from the onslaught of relentless questions. "What's that? Is that a present for us?"
You clear your throat, discreetly looking around and wondering when Crepus will arrive. "Yes, actually. I made cookies."
"Cookies?" Kaeya pipes up, speaking for the first time as he edges closer.
"Can we have some?" Diluc asks, his face brightening.
"Well –" You hesitate for a brief moment, wondering if you should be giving them snacks so close to dinner. But then Diluc casts a pleading look at you, echoed by Kaeya a quick second later, and you can feel your already shaky resolve begin to crumble. "Okay."
You pass them the tin. Diluc fumbles with the lid, but eventually gets it open. Anxiously, you wait for their reaction. Diluc and Kaeya both peer inside the container, staring at the crisply baked shapes. The scent of sugar and vanilla wafts out. The cookies have been painstakingly shaped into thumbprints, with strawberry jam centres, chocolate fingers and vanilla rabbits.
Diluc chooses one with a bright red centre and pops it into his mouth, savouring the sweet taste and chewing slowly. His little mouth is stained red with jam, and crumbs cling to the corners of his mouth, both of which are promptly transferred to his mouth with a wet finger. "Dad's been talking a lot about you."
"Y-Yeah!" Kaeya says through crumbs and icing, shoving another cookie – whole – into his mouth.
You can feel the blood rushing to your cheeks. You have to clear your throat before you can speak. "Really?"
Diluc nods his head vigorously, already reaching into the tin for a second cookie. "Yeah! You know, he spent an hour deciding what to wear for tonight? Both shirts looked the same but he still couldn't decide, so he called us and Adelinde in to ask. And when I asked why he was asking us about his clothes, Dad said that you look really nice, and he wanted to look nice for you too because he likes you a whole bunch, and he's thinking of. Uh. Um. Pro-Pre –"
". . . Preposing." Kaeya says helpfully, biting the ears off a chocolate rabbit.
"Uh-huh. What's preposing?"
"Dunno."
"Let's ask Dad later."
"Yeah!"
You seize up. Frozen, like a wide-eyed rabbit in headlights, you can't even manage to nod as you try to assimilate all this new information. Crepus loves you. He's thinking of proposing. You can feel Diluc and Kaeya looking at you, darting around your face and searching for answers and reasons to your sudden change in expression. You avert your gaze, unable to meet their eyes.
"Your face looks funny!"
"Funny."
"Diluc? Kaeya?"
Crepus descends from the stairs, immaculately dressed as always. He smiles when he sees you, his face wrinkling up into the lines of one used to joy and gentleness. When you fold yourself into his side, he presses a kiss to your forehead. You breathe out a sigh and close your eyes, shutting out the world and inhaling the scent of his pale blue shirt. It smells like home; of freshly washed clothes and lavender.
"Sweetheart, you've met the boys?"
Diluc smiles at you, showing off the prominent gap in between his teeth as he beams; it seems as though the light from the lamps lining the hallway intensifies their light. "[ NAME ] brought cookies, Dad!"
Kaeya nods vigorously, holding up a saliva-coated biscuit for emphasis. "Cookies!"
Crepus' brow furrows as he looks at you; you can only shake your head and offer him a sheepish, guilty smile in return. He'd said that there wasn't a need for you to bring gifts of any sort, but it was a bit too late for that now, seeing as how his sons have already fallen upon your gift with the ravenous demeanour of a pair of hungry wolves. "Did you say thank you?"
"Thank you!"
"Go wash your hands. Dinner's ready." Crepus says, and it's all the invitation that Diluc and Kaeya need. With a last wave at you, the two boys scamper into the house, still holding onto the tin. "And no more cookies!"
"So." Crepus takes hold of your hand, letting his fingers slip in between your own. And in that moment, nothing else really seems to matter. Your heart is swelling, as a thousand different emotions hits you in a tidal wave, overpowering the fear, the uncertainty. And in that moment, you realise that you wouldn't mind this domesticity. You might even find yourself longing for it, if you're being honest. Two healthy, vibrant children, an adoring husband. And a big house to wander around in, bright and beautifully decorated, knowing that when you were asleep, your husband would slip into bed beside you. "What did you talk about with Diluc and Kaeya?"
His words only cause your smile to widen, and you bounce on your heels, your laughter giddy and laced with a promise. "It's a secret."
