"Oh my Bartabos" Rosaria laughed heartily at Kaeya's joke. Here they were again, at Angel's Share, drinking fine, red wine from Bordeaux glasses. Incredulous! thought Rosaria to herself. Just last week, she and Kaeya were caught behind the Church of Favonius, doing unspeakable things almost as sacred as that damned church. Sister Victoria walked to the back and stopped dead in her tracks upon seeing the two sinning together. Dropping all the copies of "Barbatos: the God of our Wind" from her arms, she knelt down and immediately started bowing like a madman, head hitting the floor at a ridiculous speed as if her rowdiness would atone for their sins. At this, Rosaria pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth in amusement, eyes travelling from Kaeya to the wine. What fine wine this was, perfected through Diluc's original art of distilling the alcohol. This handiwork indeed was the exquisite fruit born of his labour. The history made this crimson, clear-ish liquid look even more beautiful in her pale, thin hands.
"You good? 2 glasses and getting weak already." chuckled Kaeya, her disconcerted gaze not escaping his keen observation.
'Not that much of a weakling, could do with 12 shots more" rosaria huffed, swirling the translucent, rancid liquid around in the glass, "just...deep in thought"
Wine. This pungent, bittersweet juice of alcohol. So propressing. This gentle, luxurious liquid was like a propelling force of hot and cold, laughter and tears, love and lust. An overwhelming, propelling force constantly blurring the line between this and that, until polar opposites seemed to morph into one, the universe going their ways yet harmonically existing as one. This, this was the condescending power of a beverage, the overwhelming sensation of alcohol, and maybe their relationship rooted itself in similar origins. A gratifying contradiction of interests, too exciting to resist.
