WHISPERS OF A BUTTERFLY • Kamisato Ayato

twenty-two. 二十二*

CONTENT WARNING: NSFW (Smut)

-

The estate air was thick with the dreamy incense of vanilla and lavender.

You were tired from having to walk up a mountain in a stiff, heavy dress during the ceremony. Your social capacity was exhausted from having to interact with many people throughout the day and smiling for the pictures that would be plastered in newspapers throughout Inazuma. Already you felt the breaches of privacy and peace.

Still.

The party refused to cease, drinking and dancing under the warm lights of the Kamisato Estate. You feigned fatigue and slumped against your husband, pushing your champagne glass into his hand and telling him that you were ready to leave. Obviously, being the gentleman he was, Ayato obliged to take you to rest.

Whistles and teasing comments were thrown the moment Ayato said you were both caving in for the night, all of which he had respectfully ignored. Everyone knew the tradition. Everyone knew what you were expected to do. You used to think that was a stupid practice, so backward and humiliating. That was when you anticipated a husband who didn't like you. Now, you understood it better.

As you both pattered down the estate's hallway—your hand on his arm, the sound of the party slowly fading behind you—Ayato's eyes remained steadfast. "It's rather clean now, isn't it?"

"As if Thoma ever lets it get dirty around here," you said, praying he wouldn't feel your heart beating through your chest. You winced. "This dress hurts."

"Shall we call for a maid to assist you into your night clothes?"

You fought to keep the irritation from showing on your face. He was definitely teasing you and pretending to be innocent. There was no way Ayato was actually that clueless. The kimono cinched your body so well that no one could tell what you were wearing underneath.

Your confidence wavered.

"No, that won't be necessary," you said delicately, almost mumbling. "It's just a dress."

Ayato raised his eyebrows but didn't say anything.

He slid open the door to your now-shared bedroom and waited for you to step in before he did. Your feet were cold on the polished wooden floor once you took off your sandals.

"So," Ayato said, with a confidence that floored you. Suddenly you felt ridiculous for thinking you'd have the upper hand.

"So," you repeated.

He cocked his head towards you. "You were going to change?"

It took a while for you to adjust to your belongings in the same place, and to share the same things. The bedroom was new and designed with a minimalist flair. Ayato gave you the luxuries of living with him, like your very own fancy closet that you could slide a door open to walk into. You weren't sure if you could ever shake off the feeling like you owed him a debt—he was just so rich.

You turned your back to him, and unclasped the train of your dress. It fell to the floor with a soft thud. "Untie me."

"What's the magic word?"

You huffed. "Please."

"Please, who?"

You rolled your eyes. "Please, Ayato."

"Now, my beloved wife. That's not all I am to you, am I?"

"Please, the most aggravating and irksome spouse in all of Teyvat, the Abyss below, and Celestia above."

"Guess you'll have to sleep in that dress."

"Please, please untie me," you sighed. "Please, my husband."