meme:: || @xamassed [venti]
--- The mischievous glint in the bard’s eye had been caught and with it came suspicion. Just what was he planning this time? In all honesty, the redhead hoped it wasn’t yet another misguided heist or attempt to garner a free drink. It was at times like these when, perhaps, being something of a mind reader would help. Would certainly save him from a headache or two. Or, at the very least, save him from having a mess to clean after all was said and done. Yet, with a sigh, he continued to work. One eye kept upon the smaller, more exuberant male. For if he moved but an inch, Diluc would catch him. Catch him and put a halt to whatever ill-gotten plan he had up his sleeve this time.
Moments would pass and not a movement was made. Nothing, that was, except that which was expected. A scratch to the skin, fingers fiddling with the glass before him, even just the readjustment of a particular piece of clothing. Nothing suspicious. Nothing suspicious at all. So why then was it the young tavern master felt as much?
Perhaps because of who it was that he was watching.
The archon was known, after all, for being something of a troublemaker. Quick to do as he pleased, quicker still to flee from the scene of the crime thereafter. Yes, with this one it was better to be vigilant. Better to watch. For it saved many a headache later.
Yet more time would pass. Slow, arduous. It was a tedious thing waiting for one to strike. To do what it was the smaller male had planned. So much so that, after a while, Diluc’s attention would slip -- albeit only for a moment -- while putting away a couple bottles of wine. It had been then, it would seem, that the anemo archon had chosen to strike.
And goodness he was fast. As fast as the wind, if one were to be so bold as to use such a comparison. For no sooner than had Diluc turned, he felt the shift in the wind and -- to his own horror and disgust -- the surprisingly soft lips of the smaller male pressed lightly upon his own cheek. Frozen to the spot, the redhead simply stood. An arm still extended, bottle still in hand. Of all the things Venti could have had planned, this was the least expected.
Free hand snaked out, grabbing the bard’s shoulder. He was going nowhere, not this time. The bottle calmly placed upon the shelf before that hand too would fall upon Venti’s person. Giving but a small, sharp, bop to the top of his head.
Do not touch. That had been the rule and he had broken it. A scowl twisted the corners of his lips ever downwards, both hands falling to his sides once more.
“I would strongly suggest removing yourself from this side of the bar,” his tone of voice betraying but an ounce of the irritation he felt, harsh gaze falling upon the polished wooden surface of the bar itself.
Of all the things the archon could have done, just why had it been a kiss? Ugh, he would have rather had him attempt to obtain a free drink over this. That he could handle. That wouldn't have left him feeling... uncomfortable.
Archons above, he hated when people touched. Especially without permission.
