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The archon statue is, without a doubt, one of your favorite places in Mondstadt. From your perch, nestled in Barbatos's surprisingly comfortable stone hands, you can see almost the whole city.
You can't hear all that much over the wind though, and today, that's a blessing. The hustle and bustle of the city would probably tip you over the edge, into the anxious and uncomfortable overstimulated zone. While a few Mondstadters seem to follow the "it's five o'clock somewhere" philosophy, most get rowdy after dinner, and by now they'll be in full swing.
You can't handle that, not when you're already buzzing with excitement.
You know Mondstadt is the land of Freedom. You can't go a day without someone reminding you or saying that silly catchphrase of theirs. "Go with the wind!"
You just… you didn't think about it that hard. Didn't realize what that meant, exactly.
You roll onto your back and close your eyes, trying to calm your racing heart.
It's hard to tell how long you stayed like that, all by your lonesome, staring up at the clouds, the barely appearing stars, but some time later, you feel a sudden gust of wind, and–
"Venti." You smile.
The Anemo Archon himself looks down at you curiously. He's bending down to do so, with his hands on his hips, and something about that pose makes you think of a little kid examining a bug or some other kind of crawly.
"You know, I usually come up here when I need to think. Or talk," he says, oblivious to your line of thought (or lack thereof).
"I'm okay." Despite that, you pat the stone next to you. "But I wouldn't turn down some time with you."
He moves to sit down on your legs instead, giggling when you immediately jack-knife up and try to shove him off. It's half-hearted, at best, and Venti isn't exactly heavy, but still, you say, "Bastard."
"Bard," he corrects.
Giving up on pushing him off his own statue, you pause and. He looks at you, raising his eyebrows. "Can I?" You make grabby hands at him.
"You're asking for a hug after I sat in your lap?" Venti seems amused. "Yes. You may hug me."
You do just that, wrapping your arms around his waist. He's not especially warm, reminding you of the cool side of a pillow. Maybe that's why he layers.
The two of you fall silent for an unknown stretch of time, content with each other's touch and the sound of wind howling. The sun sets, leisurely, like all things in Mond.
Venti is never quiet for too long though, and eventually he begins humming one of his tunes. His fingers pluck invisible strings, but he doesn't summon his lyre, perhaps so he doesn't have to move. Or so you don't have to move.
You appreciate the thought, and the sound of his voice. You're not sure if it's ironic, or makes perfect sense that the Anemo Archon is good at calming the maelstrom in your chest.
So good, in fact, that you finally find the nerve to say, "There was a wedding today."
"Hmm?" Venti tilts his head back, his eyes glowing aqua.
Weird little god, you think, resisting the urge to kiss his forehead. Maybe later. After you explain, "There was a wedding. In the cathedral."
"That is where a lot of weddings take place," he says. "Sooo, was there something special about this wedding?"
"It was two women." It's such a simple statement, but it feels like everything. "It– they're." You look away, towards the city beneath you. "It was two women, and– I went to the library after, and there aren't any– I couldn't find anything about when that became legal? So I asked Lisa and she thought I meant marriage in general because–" You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself again.
Venti makes a soft noise, covering the hands resting on his waist with his own.
"Because this is the city of freedom, and women can marry women and men can marry men," you finish, wondering why something so good and wonderful makes your eyes burn with unshed tears.
"Oh, Traveler," he says.
You want to explain and explain and explain, but no words come out, so you just press your face to his arm. Hiding.
Venti, at least, doesn't seem to mind. He tilts his head to the side, trying to cuddle you right back despite the awkward angle.
Time passes, you’re sure, but all you can hear is the howling wind.
“I wanna get married,” you say, at length.
Venti gasps, bringing a hand up to his mouth. “Traveler. I can’t possibly accept! I have obligations! I–“
“Not you!” you interrupt. Your face feels very hot all of a sudden, and you wonder if he can see it. He’s joking. Obviously. But the very suggestion is… “Venti!”
He giggles, proud of himself. “What? Is that not what you meant?”
He’s trying and succeeding in distracting you from wallowing.
“You know it’s not–“ you’re digging yourself deeper, you know. You find yourself smiling despite yourself. “Shut up.”
Venti mimes taking notes, “Does not handle rejection well. Tries to push people off their own statue. Stays out late. Not looking good for you, my friend.”
It takes you a moment to get it. “Hey! I’ll have you know I’m a catch!”
He shrugs delicately, “I don’t know, it seems like you gotta start working on yourself first.”
“You’re insufferable,” you say.
“I could teach you a few love songs. Might help your case a little.”