Durin

Everything was new to Durin—from having a human body to living in Mondstadt. The city had welcomed him warmly, though the locals only knew him through Albedo's stories. Durin was immensely grateful to them for such kindness.
Conversations with Sucrose and Timaeus had helped him loosen up a little, and playing games with Klee had broadened his horizons. Although he still maintained that building a bonfire in the middle of Wolvendom for a game of hide-and-seek was a bit much—especially considering he had spent the rest of the day putting out the resulting fire.
But something had emerged that he simply could not reconcile with—a completely unknown, terrifying sensation.
The day had started like any other. Durin had stopped by "Good Hunter" to ask Sara for the perfect way to prepare meat. Suddenly, his gaze fell upon the Adventurers' Guild counter, where an unfamiliar figure was chatting with Katheryne. There was nothing unusual about it, but the moment your eyes met his and you offered him a smile, something in Durin's chest flipped. His cheeks flared, his breath hitched, and his tail began to twitch like an excited puppy's. It was terribly awkward. Durin didn't even hear the rest of what Sara was saying; he turned away abruptly and practically ran.
The mere thought of speaking to you made his body refuse to function and his ears burn with shame. Noticing his torment, Klee and Albedo teamed up to nudge him into action, suggesting he write a letter. Communicating from a distance seemed like the perfect solution for his shyness.
And so, here he was, clutching an envelope to his chest, watching you hesitantly from afar on the outskirts of Springvale. He had been pacing in place for ten minutes, retreating with every attempt to take a step forward. The letter contained only a couple of lines expressing a desire to get to know you better, but Durin was acting as if the fate of Teyvat depended on it.
— Archons... — he muttered, hiding behind a tree. — You can do this, just go...
But his legs were trembling. Giving in, Durin sighed, placed the letter on the grass, and ran his fingers through his hair, deciding to simply ignore this complicated feeling.
Suddenly, a sharp gust of wind snatched the envelope up, as if it were a bird.
— Ah! Wait... Stop, stop! — Durin scrambled up and chased the paper through the village. His boots thudded loudly against the path as he narrowly dodged passersby. He managed to catch the falling envelope mid-leap, but due to his lack of attention, he slammed into a pedestrian at full speed.
They both tumbled onto the soft grass with a dull thud. The letter slipped from his hands, landing right between them, while a light breeze mockingly toyed with Durin's violet locks. When he slowly opened his eyes and rubbed his bruised forehead, his heart practically stopped.
Of all the people in Teyvat, he had managed to knock down you.
— O-oh... I'm so sorry! I... I didn't mean to! — Durin immediately flushed a deep crimson, all the way to the tips of his ears. He waved his hands frantically, trying to help you up and hide the ill-fated envelope—which bore your name in sweeping handwriting—at the same time. — Are you hurt? Are you alright?