morning cigarettes and coffee
pantalone/gn!merchant!reader, pining, smoking, he calls you his "favored asset" because hes emotionally constipated, arlecchino pov
for the pantalone yearners out there
"I'm surprised to find you out here this early, Regrator."
"It's my morning smoke," he replies, cigarette between his teeth as he looks down at a letter. "Marionette had... kindly asked me to move outdoors during the morning instead of smoking indoors."
Arlecchino hums, leaning on the balcony with a cup of coffee in her hands. "And by kindly, I'm sure you mean she complained until you finally conceded?"
"You know her better than I."
He laughs, gaze not moving from the paper in his gloved hands. His expression is soft, cigarette smoke wafting outwards and away into the early morning horizon. The faintest scent of chestnuts and tobacco wafted off the parchment. "You rarely hold onto letters," she notes, staring down at the scrawled ink on parchment before glancing up at him. "Is this from that... hm, favored little merchant of yours?"
Like lightning, he tucks the paper away into his coat. "Very nosy, aren't we?" He hums, a tinge of annoyance in his voice. Arlecchino smiles into her cup at the reaction, taking a long sip before holding a hand out for his cigarette. He passes it without fanfare. "If you really must know, fine. Yes. My favored asset wrote to me about some new items they acquired and was requesting my presence."
Most of the lower ranking harbingers knew about you, of course. Arlecchino and Signora, Tsaritsa rest her soul, had figured out first by sheer chance: you ran a shop out of the main cities, well known in criminal circles for your rates and stock of rare hard-to-find items. They ranged from antiques of bygone eras to valuables stolen from auction houses, and when both her and Signora stopped by to take a walk through, what a surprise it was to find Pantalone leaned over the counter, gazing at you like you were worth more than the stars and heavens themselves.
Word had spread from there over tea parties, missions, and sparring sessions. How the Regrator concealed you from Dottore as best as he could, how he had been caught by Tartaglia hand-wrapping gifts and presents to deliver to you. Custom incense and jewelry, high quality teas from Liyue and Sumeru brought to your shop. Amongst the lower ranks of the harbingers, you were a well-kept secret of Pantalone's humanity. Despite his cravings for topping the gods and for true immortality, he still yearned like any mortal man.
"Requesting your presence is a little cold for your dynamic, if I had to say," Arlecchino replies. She takes a long drag as she watches his expression shift over emotions, cold to offended to flustered. 'If only Signora was here to see,' she thinks to herself. You truly had the Ninth wrapped around your finger, and there's a chance you truly didn't know how far he'd go for you. "And writing personal letters to you... from what I can see, it seems your favored asset is quite charmed with you."
"Mind yourself," Pantalone hisses, snatching the cigarette back from her hand. His face is flushed, and she's certain it isn't from the Snezhnayan morning chill. "I wasn't aware you were such a gossip, Knave. I thought our Fair Lady had taken the rumor mill with her to the grave."
"I wasn't aware you were so protective over a little merchant," she hums into her coffee, watching his indignant expression twist and turn into a rare moment of careless vulnerability. "You're flushed, Regrator. My, my, you almost look like a small child with a crush."
She can't help laughing as the Ninth's face flushes with offended flush. "Excuse you?" He manages, puffed up like an indignant bird. "A child with a- I'd never! I simply know who's wise to invest in!"
"Investing your emotions into a humble merchant?"
"Knave," he hisses, cigarette almost bent between his gritted teeth. Defensive over calling you humble, as if you were worth more than the entirety of Teyvat. Definitely worth bringing up at the next tea party Sandrone hosts. "Watch what you say next, or--"
She laughs, finishing her drink with a content sigh. "Have a nice trip to their store, Regrator," she hums, waving one hand and stealing the cigarette from him. "I'm sure your... favored asset will be most pleased to see you."
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