It is just like her, isn’t it? Even if she finds herself changing more and more these days, that side of her is one that always stays consistent; the sky is blue, and water is wet, and Keqing will always throw all of herself into whatever task she’s given, whether it’s her duty as Yuheng, or something more personal, like this.

“Mm. That’s… good, at least.”

Isn’t it? That Xiangling isn’t bothered by her occasional (more than occasional) single-mindedness. She doesn’t get the chance to agonize over that much, though— not when Xiangling is making such sweet noises for her, and especially not when she’s dragging her down onto the soft, green grass.

There’s a huff of what might sound suspiciously like a laugh as she steadies herself, hands planted in the greenery above Xiangling’s shoulders, with her knee rooted between her thighs, but maybe that’s only natural. For as awkward as she tends to be, it’s easy to let go when Xiangling is around.

Sometimes, at least.

“Don’t tell me we hauled a bedroll all the way out here for nothing…”

Is that a joke?