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Gentle fingertips carefully trace over old scars, following the grooves that carve their way through golden brown skin. The raised scars are faint, ghosts of victorious battles and intense sparring sessions, trophies to be forgotten with the passage of time. They can be found all over their canvas, many healing to the point of invisibility.
The darker scars are more difficult to miss, reminders of deadly encounters that gouge into her body. They are from times that Candace would rather forget or ignore; they are reminders that Dehya could one day find herself in a battle she has no chance of surviving. A selfish part of Candace wishes that her lover could forever stay in the safe sanctuary of Aaru Village, never to face the dangers of the desert again.
But that would be the same as trapping a lion in a cage; cruel and unfair.
Every now and again, Dehya's body will react to the feather-light touches, her face scrunching up in her sleep as her nose wrinkles. Candace truly relishes these moments, reading her love's skin like a map without Dehya trying to hide from her. Each wound, large and small, tells an important story, conveying more than her words can.
Dehya would often end up mumbling about them simply being a part of a mercenary's life, probably embarrassed by how unflinching Candace's gaze can be when she is captivated by something.
There is one scar in particular, running from Dehya's left shoulder, over her spine and stopping just above the small of her back, that captures Candace's attention. Every time it is exposed, her fingers drift towards it out of curiosity sometimes wondering what had happened. Of course, Candace is patient and willing to wait as long as she needs to and if Dehya never chooses to share, then it is what it is.
As her fingers gently trail down it, she notices how Dehya reflexively bends to her touch as if seeking out more. It is during quiet moments like this that Candace realises just how much trust Dehya has placed in her. The Flame-Mane is a woman who is always seen with her guard up, even in the most relaxed of situations.
“Hrm,” Dehya mumbles, sounding more like a cat than a person as she stretches her arms and legs. She then rolls onto her back, draping her right arm over her eyes in a failed attempt to block out the morning sun.
Candace finds herself wrapping an arm around Dehya’s waist and pulling herself closer. There is a never-ending warmth to Dehya’s body that always leaves her craving more.
“Good morning, my sun,” she whispers, placing a tender kiss against one of Dehya’s scars that lies just beneath her collarbone. It is one she received when an archer attempted to hit Candace, a result of a poorly realised coup. Dehya, without taking a moment to think for her own safety, took the hit for her. It isn't a happy memory for Candace, the pain still stirring in her chest all these years later, but she wouldn't change it for the world.
“My moon,” Dehya rumbles, her voice hoarse, “you’re up so early.”
“I just wanted to admire the view,” she places a kiss above her collarbone and then one against the pulse point in Dehya's neck. This causes the mercenary to purr under her girlfriend's ministrations. Candace knows that, if she looked up, she would see a warm glow dusting Dehya’s cheeks that put the sun itself to shame.
“Gah, you’re too much,” Dehya says, a silly grin spreading across her face as she pulls Candace on top of her. And, as surely as the sun rises and sets in the sky, Candace feels herself being drawn to her girlfriend for the first of many passionate kisses.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Dehya stares up at the stony ceiling, her breathing steady as Candace snuggles against her side. Her cool breaths fan across the Dehya's sensitive skin, matching the cool evening airs that drift through Aaru Village. Some of the strands of Candace's midnight blue hair reflect the moonlight which shines through the window. The silvery reflections glow like a thousand little stars, an ethereal image that captivates Dehya every time she is fortunate enough to spend the night with her partner.
She would never admit this to Candace, partly out of embarrassment and partly out of the inevitable scolding she would receive, but it's one of the reasons that she wakes up so late in the morning. Her nights would be spent watching Candace sleep; the peaceful image filling Dehya's entire being with a tranquility she never thought could be possible.
The other reason, a secret shared by only those closest to Candace, is because when the moon casts its soft glow Candace will sometimes talk in her sleep. Between the politically charged rants, complaints about the Akademiya, and confusingly cryptic, there are some brief moments in which Dehya finds herself falling even more deeply in love.
It also allows Dehya to understand Candace's concerns, and to hear the things that she would never say. Dehya knows that this is the result of her position as the Guardian of Aaru Village. A part of the role is to stand strong in the face of even the most insurmountable odds, regardless of how she herself feels. It's a feeling that Dehya understands all too well, only where Dehya can put down her claymore once the job is done, Candace is always an arm's reach away from her spear and shield. Just as the moon in the night sky watches over Teyvat when the sun is away, Candace is protecting what Dehya often can't.
"... you so much," Candace murmurs, her voice as smooth as the sands that drift in the breeze outside. This is the only time when she is truly uninhabited by her duty and Dehya turns all her attention to the sleeping woman.
"My one and only sun," she continues, her voice sounding so tender and filled with love that Dehya has to actively fight back a lovesick grin. If her father saw how giddy she becomes whenever Candace does anything cute, he would have never let it go. Either that, or he would have done his absolute best to embarrass her about how long she held a flame for the moon that watches over Aaru Village.
"But," Dehya feels her body tense slightly at the suddenly cold tone of Candace's voice, "if you put your shoes on my table one more time," her voice is so cold that it sends an excited shiver up Dehya's spine, "I will feed you to a consecrated scorpion."
“Yeah, yeah, I love you too, my eternal moon," Dehya whispers as she places a gentle kiss against her lover's forehead before settling down to sleep.