Countless scrolls and papers were scattered around the room. As I stood in the doorway of the study, I wondered if I had accidentally wandered through the wrong door and into the portal leading to Hell—if such a place even existed. It was like a storm had swept through and trashed everything—the storm in question now sprawled on the floor.

I trudged over to the blonde man on the ground, careful not to step on any papers that I knew he valued much more than his own life. I nudged his side with my foot. "Come on, you big man baby. Wake up."

He stirred and groaned—but only turned over, curling into himself.

"Kaveh," I demanded.

Slowly, his eyes drifted open. They were so... tired and weary... Those crimson irises looked at me and held my gaze—nothing more. There was no more movement, save for the rising and falling of his chest as he breathed.

I smiled a little, understanding painted on my face to try and coax him out of... whatever state he had found himself in. He never elaborated. "Feeling a bit mopey, are we?" I knelt by his side. "Reckon we can finish this tantrum later?"

He swallowed once—twice—composing himself enough to ask, "How did you get in here?"

"Alhaitham let me in."

He bared his teeth and slammed his fist on the wooden boards lining the floor. "Dammit, Alhaitham!" I jolted at his sudden outburst, to which he calmed, rising to a sitting position. "I—sorry. Sorry." He blew out a breath—and I noticed that he, once again, was refusing to explain himself. "The—the payments. That's what you're here for right? I—just—"

He paused again, and I waited. "Take your time."

He nodded and hummed, massaging his temple. Then he stood, and I followed suit. "Can you please... tell your master..."

"Just a few more days?" I finished for him. He nodded. "I... can try. You know, if he came here himself, he'd say no."

"That's why I need you to talk to him." He clapped his hands together and bowed his head. "Please! Just a few days! Alhaitham is very strict about his rent!"

"He never changes the date."

"Exactly! There's no leeway! No kindness!" He raised his head—and I saw the dark smudges beneath his eyes. The scattered scrolls in my peripheral vision screamed out to me—and probably screamed out to him, too. Finish us. Get back to work, you lousy architect. I wondered if that was what he was hearing. Every day. From everything. Including himself. "Please."

I inhaled, long and deep, before nodding. "Three days, Kaveh. That's all I can give you. Master needs that Mora just as much as you do."

A breath shuddered out of him and his body sagged. "Thank you. Thank you..."

I studied him once more. The gaunt face... the tired eyes... the trashed room... the heavy breaths... "When was the last time you took some time for yourself, Kaveh?"

"Uh... A while, I suppose?" he replied, rubbing the back of his head. I hummed, noting the paleness of his skin. "If that's all, I'll get back to work."

With that, he grabbed some scrolls off the ground and slammed them onto his pinewood desk. He took a breath, before seating himself and bowing over the table, adding sketches, notes, and whatever else an architect added to a blueprint. I looked over his shoulder. His hands trembled as he wrote, his writing shaky. He could barely hold his quill.

"Kaveh." He only hummed in reply, acknowledging I had spoken and he was listening. "You're overworking yourself."

"What do you expect?" he snipped. "My clients just changed their minds! They want it redone—even though it was perfectly fine the way I had done it before! Every detail," he rambled, probably without realising it, "was done exactly how they had wanted it! And now they want it changed! They didn't even look at my proposal!" He banged his fist on the desk. "I mean, how stupid is that?!"

".. Kaveh," I said again.

"What?!" he demanded, whirling to face me. Every muscle in his body was screaming. His mind was screaming, too—but for a clearly different reason.

He was not in good health. If this routine continued, he would most certainly fall ill. Archons know if Alhaitham would offer any aid. And even if he was able to scrape together enough Mora for his current payments, his future debts would take even more out of him. Reality pulled and tugged at him—at his sensitive gullible self.

Which was why it pained me to say, "You've spilt ink on your blueprints..."

He snapped his head back to the sheets of paper—and sure enough, ink covered a generous portion of his work. Kaveh froze, taking in the stain of black that slowly seeped into the paper like a disease, before slamming his face into the desk, covering his head with his arms. The muffled scream that came out next was the definition of pain—of agony, frustration and long, hard suffering. I wondered if tears would be next.

I knew he had troubles. I knew what life tossed into his face. But today was the first time he had told me what was on his mind—and I knew it was a result of his crumbling under the pressure. Crumbling... like pastry. Cracking and breaking... until there was nothing left.

And I found myself moving at the thought, righting the spilled ink pot. My hands then caressed his neck, rubbing my thumbs firmly against the base. He stiffened but made no move to object as I began to massage his shoulders. Ever-so-slightly, his body relaxed at my touch as I pushed all the knots and tenseness out of his body.

But it was the song that spilled out of my lips that made him give in to my touch wholly and fully and he sagged against the desk. It was an old lullaby of Sumeru. It was famous—or perhaps infamous—due to its haunting melody, which often deterred people. But sung right, it was beautiful and calming. And if one listened past the sound, one could hear the lyrics—and resonate with their message.

I wasn't the best singer in the world, but I certainly wasn't the worst. And faintly, I could hear Kaveh singing along, too. Barely audible, but it was there. His voice. So heavy. So tired. But he understood the song. Perhaps he was one of the only few who did. And so whenever he became stressed, I would share this song with him, if only so he could find comfort within it—bury himself deep within its melody and words and hide from the reality that he was presented. And when he so easily lost himself in the song, I knew he would rather be anywhere else than the world he had been placed in.

The song finished—but he kept mumbling to himself, humming the melody of the song to himself over and over, as if to extend the period of safety. I continued to massage his body, having made my way to his neck and about to start on his scalp, when he raised his head. He stared at the wall with that bleak and weary gaze, the fire and passion in those crimson eyes all but extinguished. "I'm tired..." he said at last, fingers trembling where they laid on the desk, coated in ink.

Smudges of black could be found on his cheeks where he'd rested in the spill. I pulled a handkerchief from my pocket and rubbed it against his cheek, and he let me. "You're such a child, you know?" I said. "Having to get me clean you up like this..."

Those tired eyes slid to me—and instantly, I wanted to take it back. That was not the gaze of a child. Far from it. The weight of maturity laid heavily on his shoulders. But he did not object. Deep in that crimson gaze, I saw it. Saw the flicker of pain that told me he agreed with every word I said. I finished with the ink smudges on his face and grabbed his hand, wiping the ink from it. The way it was so... limp in mine...

He didn't care. Was too tired to bring himself to do so. To pretend that anything in this world mattered to him.

I shoved the cloth back into my pocket, holding his hand tightly, those delicate fingers twining with mine. "What do you say we go out for a break, Kaveh?"

"I have no Mora left." His voice was shattered, everything taken out of him by that single scream of accumulated rage and frustration.

"You're not paying," I reassured him. I patted his hand as he looked up at me with something like surprise lighting his dulled eyes. "You're not paying. Let me treat you—and then let me guide you back to health. Ok?" There was a pause. "Please?"

Slowly, he nodded and stood from where he was seated. He towered over me, but from the way he held my hand, I knew he had given me control. Help me. Guide me.

I smiled at him slightly, reassuring and promising. I will.

Help me.

I will. I reached for his cheek and caressed the soft skin beneath my hand. Such beauty... wasting away right before my eyes. I'll help you. I promise.

Do you promise? The words were a plea in his eyes, so desperate, so longing... So... afraid.

I promise. With all of my heart—which I now give to you. My smile deepened—and his taut expression softened. I give you my heart, Kaveh. All of it. I will help you.

And tears began to fall. A slow steady stream of water pooled in his eyes and overflowed. He really was a child... burdened with the heavy weight of the world. Abandoned—left to waste away. By all.

I wiped some of those tears away with my thumb. They continued to fall, eyes glossy as the brave front he had put on slowly crumbled. And the real Kaveh showed himself. So vulnerable. So sensitive... So loveable. I would follow him to the ends of Teyvat, he who could appreciate beauty where it laid in all and any form.

He knew this. If it wasn't clear to him before, it was clear to him now. I loved him. And I was tired of pretending I wasn't.

And somewhere, deep within those glossy crimson eyes, a fire of passion and resolve and love sparked, the embers burning away his pain into ashes. I knew that along this journey, his flame would constantly be extinguished, courtesy of the suffering that shrouded his body, mind and soul. But I would help him burn it all away. And every man that rose from the ashes that formed, be him new or old, I would love all the same. Because Kaveh...

My mouth parted to speak those words, but he interrupted me with a slight smile. "I know." Perhaps he had known for a while—read my thoughts and understood long before I had. And the tears began to fall from my own eyes as he said, "I know... because I love you, too."

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A/N: Kaveh angst because I can. Gotta appreciate the most human character in the whole game. Sorry it's so short

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Fanart credits: https://www.reddit.com/r/GenshinGays/comments/13kicdu/the_kavetham_angst_is_living_rentfree_in_my_head/?force_seo=1