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ceylonmoon · 29 days

Text

a quiet sliver of time

G | Genshin Impact | Capitano/Scaramouche

Word Count: 1,069

Tags: Plotless, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Rain, Cuddling, Established Relationship

ao3 link:

Fic Continued Below:

The torrent doesn’t appear to be stopping anytime soon.

It paints translucent little rivers against the window-panes, pittering down from the roiling grey mist swirling above. A faint tapping trickles in from the branches of stray trees knocking on the walls and mortar; by the next cycle of the sun, one or more of them was certain to be uprooted. The wanderer faintly wonders about what could have upset his mother this time.

“Any chance that we won’t need to delay our grocery trip for the fifth time?”

Beside him, Capitano stirs. “The tempest will not quiet until tomorrow,” he murmurs after a moment. As usual, he doesn’t bother taking a glance out of the window, the knowledge inherent from within somewhere the wanderer hasn’t puzzled out yet.

So effectively, the wanderer thinks as he stares out the window next to their bed, monsoon season has yet again gotten the best of mortal forethought. He and Capitano would scarcely mind going out in such weather— even Sumeru’s most temperamental rainstorms still couldn’t hope to match up to one of the Tsaritsa’s milder frenzies— and Nahida would probably revel in the rain more likely than not. God of Dendro idiosyncrasies, he supposes. But the vendors had hardly appreciated their stock being waterlogged before the customers could even have a chance of bartering, and so the majority of them had packed away their goods for another day. The more weather-wary ones hadn’t bothered to come at all. So it would have bore no fruit to trek out to the bazaar in this state, even on the off chance there were still merchants at their stalls.

The benefit, at least, was that he would get to spend his break indoors. Though he could certainly tolerate the rain, it wasn’t as if he actively enjoyed feeling like a drenched cat every time he stepped outside.

Hm. Speaking of cats.

In a deviation from the usual routine, he finds his lap occupied with both the normal manila folder of assignments to tear apart and the less common undulating oil-slick of Capitano’s hair as he lays— not quite asleep, but in whatever purgatory he found himself in whenever the urge or need struck.

Strangely enough, the urge has been striking Capitano more frequently lately, judging by how the wanderer found his side more accompanied the past few weeks. His running theory is that this sudden onslaught of clinginess likely has to do with the rain and the natural dendro aura of the landscape; something about the inherent concentrated energy soothing over the leylines just enough that it trickled into the abyss, consequently turning Capitano into the equivalent of a cat that indulged in too much cream. The thought nearly causes a smile to spread across his lips because Capitano would absolutely abhor that description, had he known.

Well. He isn’t complaining— in the depths of spring and the emerging traces of summer, the glacial temperatures that Capitano emanated were more than welcome, especially in Sumeru’s heat waves.

Idle, the wanderer wraps a particularly unruly lock of Capitano’s hair around his index. The tendril burbles slightly at him before smoothing down again into its almost-usual form.

“Your hair is getting wavy,” the wanderer notes, absent. “I was under the impression it disliked straying from your usual style.”

One of Capitano’s eyes blinks open. He’s been also forgoing the helmet more often than not as of late, so the void of his face and the innumerable eyes marring it are on display. The wanderer is nearly alarmed by how much more…emotive he is, though he doubts anyone else would be able to tell, the stoic bastard.

“The humidity,” Capitano explains, peering up at the wanderer. Then, with decidedly more amusement in his voice, “It is not that it dislikes new forms. Rather it is simply a matter of…retaining propriety.”

“Hm. So you don’t bother being proper around me? How disrespectful,” the wanderer taunts.

As if faced with a terrible affront, Capitano’s hair tightens around his finger, ripples, and begins straightening at the ends to prove a point.

“You would find it more insulting if I were to act with propriety towards you,” Capitano says, underpinned with something resembling teasing accusation.

The wanderer snickers. “Perhaps I would.” Mollified, Capitano’s hair begins curling into the spaces between his fingers, attempting to draw ever closer.

“The revered Captain,” the wanderer murmurs, brushing a strand of hair out of the abyss that composed Capitano’s face, “Look how far you have fallen. Clinging onto a divine being like this.”

His eye has almost fully shut again at this point, blinking slow and languid. “If you constitute a divine being, then perhaps I may ascend to Celestia yet,” Capitano responds mildly.

“...Maybe you had a point,” the wanderer concedes, abruptly, horribly filled with something like fondness, godforbid. In the back of his mind, he notes that his cheeks are starting to ache. “You’d be much less entertaining if you were dignified.”

Capitano graces them with a breath that could be interpreted as laughter, settling back into something strangely placid. Content, even. “Do you view me as something akin to a circus animal?”

“You were the first of the fools for a reason, I’d assume.”

“I surrender the issue.” Capitano lets out one of his half-breath, half-laughs as his eye shuts fully, dissipating and melding back into the twilight.

“Coward,” the wanderer says, half-hearted, “you just want to go back to sleep.”

No answer this time around, save for a pull at his wrist down towards the bed.

Hm. He has been done for a while anyways. The wanderer sets the envelope aside on the nightstand and extinguishes the lantern with a flick of his wrist. In the meantime, Capitano holds the covers open as an offering, insistently waiting for him to finish up.

“Hah. You really are getting clingy,” the wanderer tells him as he slips underneath the blankets. Behind Capitano, a glancing strike of lightning illuminates the room in a flash, reflecting silver off of his helm sitting faithfully on his side and the infinitesimal constellations spiralling within the chasm and threading through the gloss of his hair. Maybe the blame goes to both of them then, when their limbs end up intertwined immediately, a gravitational tug into orbit.

The wanderer shuts his eyes. He has time to kill.

The torrent doesn’t appear to be stopping anytime soon, after all.

#genshin impact #capitano #wanderer #my fic #capiscara #scaratano #once again yelling into the void abt a rarepair #oh they are SO in love im sobbing #not that they would admit it ofc

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