Until it's (Too Late)

After all the whole ordeal as using the carmine outfit he wears as the Darknight Hero. He has been keeping it like this since a couple years ago, hidden in a black large box, under some boots and shows that he knew the maidens wouldn't bother to mess. The last letter he'd received from his estranged sworn younger brother, the impeccable handwriting that the bluenette has showing the dark curves of the written letters in the plain white of paper like a beacon of chance.

The subtle change in their dynamic has been happening in a slow pace through the years. The pain of knowing that he full cheeks and yet smart little brother has belong to a trained spy, said fella that lived under the benevolence of his father. The father he'll not have again to tell him stories, or to calm him through the stormy nights which the thunder would shake his very being while he was too young and yet responsible to lead winery. Nor would he have his little brother to equally calm him down because little Kaeya was also too afraid of the noises.

At those days, in which he was truly alone, he prayed for Barbatos to not let the Electro archon destroy his house or the grapes outside. At the very core of his being, while his cheeks was cold and he could feel clearly the warm tears running on his flesh, he prayed that little Kaeya was safe from that storm, that he had a roof over his head and someone to hold him as the storm urged in the sky.

Of course, the dynamics changed as they grew older, and they both grew cynical. The uncanny mask of the lord of the Dawn Winery impeccable upon his polite face. The pressure of having all the things and people that involved his business keeping him sharp on his authority. An role he assumed to early, which he learned to early that or he become the hunter or he'll be prayed upon. The sting and jealousy of the not little anymore Kaeya assuming his position in the Knight of Favonius was there in his heart as well the worry of having someone in the line of danger, in the place that was supposed to be his.

But he made his choices, how he learned that his not so innocent little brother and how the Favonius treated the death of his father made him act. The Knights lost their precious and powerful asset and Kaeya being the one that suffered his pent-up rage, within and without reason.

Sigh

While alone on his large mansion, the candle being the only source of light and his company, he returned to his table. To admire the dark curves of the beautiful handwriting that belongs to Captain of the Knight of Favonius. Remembering the many nights he'd to deal with his antics on Angel's Share, sly or not. Or having too much drink and had to wait to someone to collect his drunk ass before he could close his bar, clean it and return to his home to rest.

But know they're reconciling, somehow. Kaeya has been his little spy/mediator with what happened inside the Favonius HQ as he acted in what the red-head truly believed that Mondstadt needed. A proficient warrior, a hero, someone that would have no qualms or being too slow to make the dirty work. To make things right through any means necessary. The very appearance of that crazy Fatui lunatic called Il Dottore and what he was trying to do was of the many reasons he is the vigilante at the knight.

They both had worked together very well at those days. Like their distance didn't diminished how attuned they'd become in the early years. Fire and Ice, mixing together to create a beautiful and deadly elemental reaction. Like they are, the most beautiful and deadly bachelors in the nation.

And indeed, Kaeya had grown to a beautiful man. The tight-fitting clothing barely hiding the curves of his silhouette, the dark tone of his skin glowing under the yellow lights of his pub, blue eyes twinkling in mischief as he looked at his next innocent pray of the night. The lean muscles giving him a gait that would make the women their sigh as he approached the lucky one that would have the attention of the handsome knight, observing the situation silently not too far. Or how deep his voice had become as Diluc hears the cheap words coming from his lips as he tried to conquer the woman that he would warm his bed tonight, the pleased sighs coming from the lady which is having the honeyed words breathed down on a very red earlobe. His cold breath, the white vapor that would appear, a tactic Kaeya has been succeeding to get what he wanted.