The Wind is Alive - Xiaoven
"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.
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