Henry heard the footsteps before he saw her—the deliberate click of heels against wood, growing closer with each step—and he straightened in his chair, his drowsiness evaporating instantly as he turned toward the staircase.
Then she appeared.
Alina descended the stairs with the kind of effortless grace that made Henry momentarily forget how to breathe. The white dress he'd given her fit perfectly, the soft blue accents along the hem catching the warm café lighting and shimmering with each movement. Her hair was down, cascading past her shoulders in waves he'd never seen before—she always kept it tied back for work—and blue earrings dangled from her ears, catching the light like tiny drops of sapphire. The dress accentuated her figure without being ostentatious, elegant but approachable, refined but comfortable, and she reached the bottom of the stairs before pausing, her amber eyes meeting his with a small, uncertain smile playing at her lips.
"Well?" she asked, spreading her arms slightly. "How do I look?"
Henry opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. "You look..." He stopped, shook his head, and tried again. "You look incredible. I mean—really. You look incredible."
Alina's smile widened, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. "You already saw me in this dress an hour ago."
"I know, and it still looks beautiful on you. It's perfect. You're perfect." Henry winced internally at how earnest he sounded, but he couldn't help it. "I mean—the dress is perfect. You're—you know what I mean."
"I do." She walked toward him, grinning at his slip-up, her steps light and confident. "You clean up well yourself. That shirt is much better than your usual rugged 'I just fought a hilichurl' look."
"My 'I just fought a hilichurl' look has served me well," Henry protested, but he was grinning. "It's practical. Functional."
"Practical and functional are not the same as handsome." She reached him and straightened his collar with practiced ease, her fingers brushing against the fabric with a familiarity that made his breath catch. "There. Much better."
Henry's heart did something complicated in his chest as he watched her adjust his collar, her touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary. "Are you ready to go?"
"Ready."
The ride to Springvale was perfect.
The early evening air was cool and crisp, carrying the scent of grass and wildflowers as the path wound through the countryside, the setting sun casting long golden shadows across the fields. Henry pedaled alongside Alina, occasionally glancing over at her as the wind caught her hair and the fading light painted her features in warm hues that made her look almost ethereal.
"Remember when I taught you to ride?" he called out, raising his voice over the wind.
Alina laughed, the sound bright and carefree. "You mean when I fell off five times in a row and you couldn't stop laughing?"
"I didn't laugh that much."
"You absolutely did. You were practically crying."
"I was crying for my student, who kept falling. There's a difference."
Alina shot him a look that was equal parts amusement and exasperation. "You're impossible."
"So you've said."
They rode in comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds the hum of wheels on dirt and the distant chirping of birds settling in for the night. Henry found himself relaxing in a way he hadn't in weeks—no business deals, no construction plans, no System missions—just him and Alina, riding through the countryside like they'd been doing this for years.
"Race you to the village," Alina said suddenly, and before Henry could respond, she was pedaling ahead, her hair streaming behind her like a banner.
"HEY! No fair!" Henry pushed forward, but she had a head start and she was faster than he'd expected.
Alina reached the small stone bridge first, skidding to a stop and turning to face him with a triumphant grin. "I win."
"You cheated."
"I started first."
"That's literally the definition of cheating."
Their living situation was strange, to say the least. To outsiders, they looked like nothing more than roommates, two people sharing a space out of convenience rather than anything deeper.
But if you asked Mona-who had made more than a few pointed comments over the weeks, she had some suspicious things to say about the couple of "roommates." The way Alina teased Henry, the way they bickered like an old married couple with none of the distance that actual roommates usually maintained, the way Alina always seemed to know exactly what Henry needed before he asked for it. Mona had sworn up and down that there was something going on between the two, but Henry had always brushed it off with a laugh, claiming she was reading too much into things. Standing here now, though, watching Alina's grin, he wasn't so sure Mona was wrong.
The Hunter's Hearth was warm and inviting, the kind of tavern that made you feel like you'd stepped into someone's home. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting dancing shadows across the wooden walls, and the smell of roasting meat and fresh bread filled the air. The owner, a stout woman with kind eyes and flour dusted on her apron, led them to a quiet corner table near the window, and Henry pulled out Alina's chair with a small flourish that made her smile.
"Chivalrous," she said, settling into her seat.
They ordered—steak for Alina, roasted boar for Henry, a bottle of wine the owner recommended—and settled into the comfortable quiet of the tavern. Alina swirled the wine in her glass, watching the light catch the deep red liquid. "I haven't done this in a long time," she admitted. "Gone out. Just for fun."
"I'm sorry, Alina. I should have taken you out earlier. Instead I swamped you with work."
"It's fine, Henry." She winked at him. "You pay me for my work generously, don't you?"
"That I do." Henry laughed, the tension easing from his shoulders.
Alina looked at him, her amber eyes soft. "What was it like? Your world?"
Henry paused, considering the question. He'd told her about the technology, the machines, the wonders of Earth—but he'd never really told her about himself. "It's complicated," he said finally. "I was adopted. Raised by good people, parents who loved me and gave me everything I needed. But I always felt like I was looking for something. A place I belonged."
Alina was quiet, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. "I know that feeling," she said softly. "I left Snezhnaya because I didn't belong there. But sometimes I wonder if I belong anywhere."
"Here," Henry said without thinking. "For now. You belong here. In Mondstadt. Earlier at the bike shop, now at the café."
Alina's eyes widened slightly at the conviction in his voice, then she smiled—small and genuine, the kind that reached her eyes. She looked down at her glass, then back up at him. "In Snezhnaya, I was always expected to be someone I wasn't. A wife, a daughter who followed tradition, a piece in someone else's game. My grandmother was the only one who understood. She used to tell me, 'The strongest tea is the one you brew yourself.'"
"Your grandmother sounds like she was very wise."
"She was." Alina paused. "She died when I was fifteen. It was the first time I thought about leaving."
Henry reached across the table and covered her hand with his. "What happened?"
Alina was silent for a moment, her eyes distant. "She was the only family member who didn't try to control me. When she was gone, I was alone. And when they told me who I would marry, I knew I had to leave. So I did."
"You made the right choice. You have the right to choose your own partner."
"Thanks." She gave his hand a gentle squeeze.
Henry felt a pang of guilt settle in his chest. "I returned twice to my home world, and once I didn't even think to visit them."
Alina saw the guilty look on his face and squeezed his hand again. "Hey, don't blame yourself. Teyvat has such an impact on you—maybe that's why you forgot. Next time you can go and meet them."
"I will." Henry's eyes filled with conviction, a quiet promise settling in his heart.
They decided to take a small evening walk around Springvale, the stars emerging one by one in the darkening sky as Henry and Alina strolled along the path leading away from the village, their shoulders brushing occasionally in the comfortable silence that spoke volumes between them.
"Did you ever meet your birth parents?" Alina asked quietly.
"No." Henry shook his head. "I was left at an orphanage. I don't know who they were or why they left me. But I had a good life. That's what matters."
Alina was quiet for a moment, then she said, "I think you would have turned out well anyway. You've got a good heart, Henry."
He laughed, a little embarrassed. "That's a very generous assessment."
"It's an accurate assessment." She bumped his shoulder with hers. "Don't argue with me."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
They walked a little further, the stars reflecting in the small stream that ran alongside the path, the air cool but not cold—the perfect temperature for a spring evening.
"Can I tell you something?" Alina asked suddenly.
"Of course."
She stopped, turning to face him. "I was scared to leave Snezhnaya. I didn't know where I was going or what I would find. In Snezhnaya, you cannot just leave without permission."
What does she mean people can't leave without permission? Henry felt something strange in her statement, a detail that seemed to hint at something darker beneath the surface, but he pushed it to the back of his mind and waited, letting her take her time.
"But when I met you," Alina continued, her voice barely above a whisper, "when you gave me a job and a room and a purpose... I realized I wasn't alone anymore."
Henry's chest tightened. "Alina..."
"I'm not saying this to be dramatic," she said quickly. "I'm just saying... thank you. For everything."
He reached out and punched her arm—not hard enough to hurt, but with enough force to make his point clear. "This is the second time you're thanking me again. Didn't I say I would hit you if you thanked me again?"
"Ouchh! Ok, ok. No more thanking." Alina rubbed her arm with an exaggerated pout, but her eyes were dancing with mischief. "Instead I will take advantage and loot my good-natured roommate and boss."
"HEY!"
-
The ride back to Mondstadt was slower than the ride out, the conversation flowing easily between comfortable silences as the city lights glimmered in the distance, a warm beacon against the dark sky. When they reached the café, Henry locked up his bike and turned to find Alina standing in the moonlight, the white dress glowing softly in the silver light, her face half-shadowed and her expression unreadable.
They walked upstairs together, their quiet footsteps echoing in the empty building, and when they reached Alina's door, Henry paused, turning to face her. "Goodnight, Alina."
She looked at him, her amber eyes soft in the dim hallway light. "Goodnight, Henry. I had a great time today."
And then she moved forward, quick and decisive, pulling him into a kiss—warm and brief, a moment of boldness that seemed to surprise even her. Then she pulled back, her cheeks flushed, and slipped into her room, the door clicking shut behind her with a soft finality.
Henry stood there, stunned, a slow smile spreading across his face. Well. That happened.
[It did.]
Orianna were you spying on the entire date?
___
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