Venti, being a god, has never truly been through love. He's had friendships before, of course, but can that truly compare to the wonder of romance? He's never given much thought to it... that is, until a certain girl enters the picture. After being brutally murdered in cold blood, the gods, filled with pity for the girl, gave her a second chance and made her an auxiliary, who are special beings chosen by the higher beings of Celestia to act as a sort of "right-hand-man" for their respective archons. Some have been predetermined, meaning some assistants will have already been acquainted with these archons. However, this isn't the case for everybody, and it certainly doesn't apply to the Anemo Archon. He's been somewhat of a distant loner for years, and a very special person indeed must have been selected to work under him. Venti isn't sure of what's happening inside of his heart every time he comes near her, but there's one thing he knows for sure: she isn't like the others. Will Venti ever break past this wall of blindness and step into the light of true love, or will he forever be concealed in the dark and never open up to his feelings?
"Because it's my second favorite place in the world. Stunning, isn't it?"
It is. And yet, it still pales in comparison to the apple of his eye. Everything from Liyue, to Mondstadt, to the ends of Teyvat are nothing to the beauty of the god right in front of him. Oceans could never be bluer than the tips of his braids, grass could never be greener than the palette of his clothes, flowers could never be prettier than the cecilia stitched onto his hat.
Alatus thinks Barbatos may be mistaken. He says that this cliff is the only place where it feels as though one could pluck the stars straight from the sky, the only place that reaches high enough to the heavens to grasp at the ethereal. But when Barbatos is so close just like this, it feels as though Alatus could pluck the twinkle of stars straight from the azure skies of his eyes, like he could simply reach out and run his tentative touch along the epitome of divine grace.
Or: The five times Xiao's outstretched fingers chase the winds and the one time they don't have to.