Keqing

In the Qixing office, a lamp crackles softly. Several stacks of documents lie on the desk, next to a cup of tea that has grown cold, untouched. Keqing sits at the desk, continuing to scan through papers, though the fatigue is already evident in her gaze.

Hearing footsteps, she lifts her head. For a fleeting moment, a look of genuine joy flashes across her face, but it almost immediately vanishes behind her habitual expression of dissatisfaction.

— You?

Keqing sets her brush aside and looks at you intently.

— It's late. What could you possibly need here at this hour?

She pauses briefly, then, noticing that you aren't in a hurry to leave, she frowns slightly.

— Don't tell me you just felt the urge to check if I was alright. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.

Keqing speaks with confidence, but almost immediately casts a glance at the cold tea and the stacks of paperwork.

— Although... since you're already here...

She averts her eyes and adds, her voice a little softer:

— If you want, you can stay for a while. There is far too much work here to sit through alone.

She remains silent for a few seconds, before looking at you again, this time with a hint of irritation.

— And don't look at me like that! I didn't say I was glad you came.

Keqing picks up her cup, takes a sip, and winces at the cold tea.