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✤ — Universe: Euphonious ✤ — Concept: It's time to part ways ✤ — Characters: Xiao, Alatus A/N: Here's the extended angst~ itwasntmeanttobe~ Also, this can be read as a standalone!

It was a flower between hearts that yearned to connect, yet cannot.

Perhaps in a different time where he is not shackled by his duties, and where you aren't meant to be so far...

Maybe that is where you both will allow the flower to bloom—and not to wilt.

Xiao

"Daybreak,"

That's your time of departure, he knows. He hears that man—Zeta, a good friend, you said—inform you.

"Two days from now."

He heard that two nights ago. That daybreak is meant to be today.

Perhaps that is why you're standing beside him, in the morning, with the rising sun as a witness—and not the moon. Singing, as you did the previous nights.

Though for some reason, even when he is lulled to solace, he can't help but notice that this song of yours has gotten more mellow, more despondent.

He doesn't like to think that it's because you're sad that you're leaving.

Because then, he's prompted to believe that you don't want to leave him.

And he loathes that, heavens, how he despises the idea.

"It's time, [Name]," he hears someone say, and you echo off the last notes, voice almost breaking.

Because he's not meant to feel this stupidly enchanted by a simple mortal. In a matter of days, no less.

Indeed, Xiao detests it with every fiber of his being, down to the very core.

Yet, when he feels your hand land on his arm and his eyes meet your [c]s that tell of an eternal goodbye to a love that can't flourish in this time...

When he hears the delicate sound of his name rolling past your tongue despite the melancholy tone that matched your smile as you turned to leave—as he watches you disappear down the road to Liyue...

Xiao notes that—with an empty chest—no matter how much he abhors that he was so easily taken, he doesn't regret those nights.

And he doesn't regret meeting you.

Alatus

There is relief in knowing unsaid sentiments—feelings that needn't be shown, words that needn't be uttered.

Just the small tingle of a spark, or the race of the heart. They are all that's ever needed to imply the similitude of ardor.

Shoulders grazing, fingers barely touching, the sun rises.

"That's quite the sad song you sang," Alatus smiles, "You're not thinking of requiems now, are you?"

A breathy laugh escapes as you jokingly hit his arm, the blues of your smile dissipating with the rising sun. Surely, if there is a way to eternalize a moment, he'd do it.

Your name is called just as the rays peek through the mountains.

The Yaksha can't help but dampen his chapped lips, his nerves relaxing for resignation to slip in.

He looks at you, only to find you already looking at him.

Goodbye. Untold words.

I'll miss you. Untold feelings.

Alatus allows his stare to linger, "See you next time."

Hope for a reunion.

You nod. "Next time."

Somewhere, someplace, again—with you.

a/n: what else stings than the trope 'right person, wrong time?' :')) im bitter i need fluff now, im sorry xiao TT

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