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Business, economy, world-wide trade in a prosperous city. Travelers believed it was easy to control wealth and money in Liyue and yet the merchant apparatus was like a gigantic machine consisting of many cogwheels of mixed importance. Obviously, everyone had their eyes on the big cogwheels and talked about their influential business deals, tried to engage with their rich households and made them the talk of town and beyond. But the machinery wouldn’t work this smoothly without all the other factors that played a role: smaller scale trades, politics and relations to other cities, …
… and individuals’ relationships with each other.
When the Liyue Qixing issued invitations to people of importance in all of Liyue they had meant to deepen, refresh or give the opportunity to build new friendships, maybe even take the chance to form profitable contracts or discuss favourable trading routes. The world was in an upheaval and the Archons knew Liyue was in need for calculable safety among all the burning fires of chaos. However, precautions had to be taken even for a celebration and several safety measures were applied to ensure safety, among those the specific instruction to wear masks in order to keep the guests’ identities hidden. Not disclosing who you were but negotiating solely on the basis of profit - framed with a banquet, music and other sorts of entertainment. It seemed like the perfect opportunity.
Zhongli had put much thought into his choice of outfit for this evening. Initially, he had played with the thought of politely declining the invitation. He didn’t see himself as a man of big gatherings because he usually preferred smaller, more intimate meetings with few clients. Wangsheng Funeral Parlor never asked for more anyways. But since there was no other pressing matter and not going without a good reason not to seemed impolite to him, he promised to attend after all. Which left him with the question of what to wear.
Picking an outfit cost him an entire day and for some reason left Zhongli full of regrets when he at last critically examined himself in the mirror in the tavern he was staying in. For all it was worth the hand-woven fabrics’ smooth and extraordinary quality was lost in the darkness of night because of its colour and didn’t look as nice as it had in broad daylight.
“I shouldn’t have chosen black.” Zhongli crossed his arms in front of his chest and turned to the side, trying to match his reflection with his inner picture of a wild noir cat he had wanted to imitate. No matter how he looked at it he didn’t resemble those wild beasts in any respect. He looked like a burglar at best. “I should have chosen the golden colours instead.” He clicked his tongue.
It was too late to fundamentally change into something else. The invitation to the masked ball had also emphasized not to go with your casual clothing since the precaution to hide your identity had priority, so this wasn't an option either. Zhongli had no other choice but to make the best of his mistake. He sighed and decided to ask for help.
He left his room and walked along the hallway until he reached the room at the very far end, where he lifted a hand and knocked courtly.
“Do you mind my company for a while, traveller?” He smiled when he opened the door, ignoring the blatant shock on the traveller’s face as best as he could. Did he really look that badly? “I hoped you could lend me some of the treasures we found to improve my style. It could use some colour.”
“Uh … sure.” Thank goodness that Paimon wasn’t around right now because she wouldn’t have omitted the opportunity to tease Zhongli for his plainly looking getup. He could already hear her laughter in the back of his mind and chased the image away with a shake of his head.
“As you can tell I might have made a mistake.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest and let his head droop while the traveller pulled a medium sized treasure chest from under the bed. Inside were various tokens that ranged from weaponry to armour, potions and other small things, everything from their shared adventures in and around Liyue. “I completely trust your sense of fashion, traveller. What sort of advice would you give me?”
“I know that you are working for the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor but going for complete black is … too dull. Here, try this”, the traveller rummaged through the chest in obvious search for something specific and pulled out a lustrous silver-embroidered belt, extending it toward Zhongli without looking up. Zhongli accepted it together with a pair of similar vambraces and delicate chains that he attached to his ear in place of his usual earring. With a look into the mirror he decided that adding accessories was a good choice but still felt as if he had been dressing up.
“Better. But not perfect yet. Hold still for a moment.” The traveller’s eyes starting glowing and the room’s temperature dropped a couple of degrees in the matter of split seconds as magic filled the surroundings and coated Zhongli for a moment. When he looked himself down, he discovered frozen patterns that looked like ancient runes run along his coat’s hems and wildflowers that decorated the rims of his knee-high Mondstadt styled boots. The stylistic choice of a black base paired with ice particles and silver accessories went hand in hand and Zhongli felt finally proud when he inspected himself in the mirror. He had made the right choice with seeking out the traveller.
"Thank you. This is amazing work."
“You know that I didn’t do this for free?”, the sharp question brought Zhongli back into reality with a cold shiver that ran over his arms.
“Ah.” He straightened up and smiled as naturally as possible. “Of course I will pay you for your service, traveller. I fear I don’t have any Mora with me at the moment and it’s time for me to leave if I don’t want to –“
“I won’t forget it”, the traveller interrupted him. "And you will pay me this time, Mr Zhongli." They’ve had this kind of situation too many times to fool each other anymore or believe in the lies Zhongli got away with every day with other people – but in the end the traveller could only let him go with a repeated warning and prepare against the imminent chides by Paimon, who thought they were being too nice to Zhongli for a while now.
His debt is growing even mooooore!
Liyue at night was a different kind of beauty, ethereal like a fleeting dream. The air seemed to be vibrating, the winds were playful, and the crystal-clear sky sparkled with what had to be a million stars. They stood in contrast to the floating lanterns that illuminated the surroundings and led Zhongli’s way to his destination, which was cleverly selected above sluggishly flowing currents and hugging Mount Tianheng to one side.
Zhongli stopped by the side of the bridge he was crossing and looked down onto the crescent’s moon reflection on the water surface, dwelling on the sight for a moment and internally taking a deep breath. When he continued walking and reached out his invitation to the security guards at the large interlacing doors, he was more than relieved that his face was covered by a noir cat’s mask. Keeping a neutral face had rarely been a problem, especially considering the clientele he usually had business with but tonight he felt some sort of premonition – a small anticipation of something about to happen. He just couldn’t pinpoint if this something was going to be good or bad.
Zhongli was one of the last guests to arrive but the view inside the pavilion made any missed opportunities worth: the diversity of well-crafted costumes were a breath-taking sight and made him stop in awe by the entrance, taking in the view. The lights – magically empowered, floating underneath the ceiling – set the scene for a nice evening banquet for the gathered crowd. There was pleasant chatter of small groups scattered in all four directions and at the far end several bards prepared to accompany the gathering with music.
When Zhongli let his gaze wander, he saw dragons in all colours, elemental animals with glowing accessories probably not from Liyue, a Hilichurl, different traditional clothing from different cities that were most likely imported and used by the merchants instead of keeping it for sale – Zhongli stopped. A Hilichurl?
They were standing on the side, away from the main groups and clearly separated from the masses, with their back turned to Zhongli, staring out a window into the night with a drink in hand, and only looked up and to the side when they noticed someone step next to them.
“Well, will you look at this. A Noir.” The lips that were visible since the Hilichurl mask lacked a lower half curved into a mocking smile, one that Zhongli was overly familiar with. He had seen it many times in his conversations with one intriguing person in particular and sometimes its meaning haunted him even in his dreams. The smile was as much promise as it was spiked with knives but Zhongli returned the smile, happy about this turn of events. “There it is, a smile that is worth three million Mora. Fancy to meet you here.”
“I believe it’s natural that the Qixing invited me but I haven’t expected to see you here, Childe.”
Upon hearing his name (or well, his alias), Childe turned his back to the window and leaned against the frame with one elbow, now facing Zhongli completely, his attitude as deliberately relaxed as always. He took a sip from the drink he was holding while his smile stayed unchanged. “Weren’t we supposed to keep our identities hidden?”, he asked.
Through the vibrant colours of Childe’s mask and the shadows that covered his face’s upper half Zhongli found it difficult to catch his eyes. It were Childe’s eyes that allowed him to read this individual. His smiles could lure him and trick him and his gestures and attitude were always well selected, but Childe could not fake the expression in his eyes. And Zhongli put a lot of trust into his ability to read Childe’s eyes, usually.
This time defeated he crossed his arms in front of his chest and gave up for now. Something in his stomach that alarmingly felt like frustration repeatedly asked for his attention, but Zhongli had to keep his concentration up if he didn’t want to start letting his guard down and get lured deeper into this dance. That interacting with Childe was nothing short of a dance wasn’t up for debate.
“How could I not recognize you?”, he asked back lightly. “You knew who I am as well.”
“Maybe we’re both helplessly bad with costumes.” Childe vaguely gestured down at himself, at the black belts around his midriff and the furred hems of his coat that was more concealing than his usual outfit. Zhongli’s gaze lingered on his thighs for a moment before he lifted it back up to head level and found himself irritated once again without being able to pinpoint the reason for it.
Show me your eyes, won’t you, Childe?
“So, what brings you here, Mr Zhongli? Don’t tell me you’re looking to expand Wangsheng’s clientele? Are the Fatui not good enough for you anymore? Should I put more effort into my line of work?” He put his head back and laughed while Zhongli tilted his head to the side, watchful of his partner in conversation. There were many layers to this man and most of them hidden away from inquiring tongues and curious eyes. One could spend days sharing dinners with him and be still left in the dark when it came to his line of thought sometimes. And yet Zhongli would love to think that he knew him well enough - even with all of these masks concealing Childe from Zhongli - to be able to tell that something was off.
That, or he was going insane.
“I came because I was invited. However, I do believe that my evening shapes out to become more interesting than I first thought.” He tapped his arm. If he didn't understand something, he would just need more time to understand it. If he didn't understand someone, he would just ask to be together for a while. That was the only reason for his next question, surely. It was logical after all. “Won’t we leave politics aside for tonight and have fun for a change?”
“Fun?”, Childe echoed and for the first time he didn’t move at all as he stood relaxed against the window frame. His smile seemed frozen to place for a moment and gained a sharp edge that couldn’t be explained without background knowledge, the thing Zhongli lacked the most in this case. But Childe's tone seemed casual. “Fun is a dangerous word, Mr Zhongli. Whoever uses it may have different goals in mind than the one it's addressed to and I’m assuming that our goals always go different ways. But”, the moment passed and Childe caught himself, “if you’re suggesting leaving politics aside for the evening, why not? I’m up for it. Care to grab a drink?”
Zhongli bit on the inside of his lower lip - he hadn't imagined the reaction on the word "politics", had he?
"Of course."
The Liyue Qixing had not been stingy with the offered range on both beverages and smaller food portions. Zhongli found it difficult to settle with a drink for himself even after consulting with Childe for a while, strangely aware of his attentive eyes that even the mask could not conceal. Technically taking any drink wouldn't have been a problem and yet, throwing words back and forth like this had an interesting effect on Zhongli's mind - even though the feeling of restlessness didn't leave him, it was somehow comforting to talk to Childe like this.
“Why don’t you do it your way, hm?”, Childe whispered conspiratorially when Zhongli still hadn't decided and leaned against Zhongli's arm. Zhongli knew that he would regret flinching back and letting Childe have this victory so instead of restoring personal space he turned his head and tilted it in silent question. “Simply take all.”
Zhongli didn't answer but reached out and took the first cup that was within range, a small teacup with a clear liquid that seemed sprinkled with cinnamon. He would definitely not follow Childe's advice despite making it seem like that with his action. He disliked drinking excessively. But staying indecisive wouldn't do it either.
“Huh, good choice. Exquisite taste. As expected of someone of your calibre.”
“Oh? And what would that be?” Zhongli was fairly certain that he had picked one of the worst options from the range he could’ve because he couldn’t recall such a drink in Li cuisine. He held the cup in both hands and lifted it up to inhale some of its scent, trying to tell what he should be prepared for, and since it didn’t smell of anything he decided to try it.
“A reliable gentleman who knows what he wants. A good business partner with looks that could kill. A man of his word as well.”
Zhongli choked on the liquid and broke into coughing, waving his hand around with reddening cheeks. He was joined by Childe’s playful laughter and frowned at him while regaining his composure, still unable to tell if the other man was being serious or simply teasing. By now this inability was highly unsettling to Zhongli.
“Am I deserving of such high praise?”, he asked. Good that his mask was painting his own eyes in the same shadows as Childe's. Zhongli wasn’t sure that he was master of his own emotions anymore or completely under Childe's spell already. He felt so irritated by something, but –
“Honoured guests!”, an imperative voice that was used to being obeyed spoke up and silenced ongoing conversations with these two words. Everybody, including Zhongli and Childe, turned their head to face the white scarlet fox, who stood with the bards on the slightly elevated place of this enormous room and gave a little speech about how pleased the Qixing were with the attendance and that they wished everybody the best of luck with their business.
“I want to repeat for all guests that openly disclosing your identities will not be tolerated. Bringing deals to the end is a matter for a different day so please be wary of the times we’re living in and respect other guests' privacy”, the fox gave a sharp smile and Zhongli felt an elbow hit his side that drew his attention to the smug Hilichurl. He had to lean in closer to understand what he was whispering and ignored the warm breath that tickled his earlobe and caressed his jaw to his best while listening to Childe’s snide comment about the last remark.
“We also have prepared a guideline program for tonight.” The Qixing swung her hand elegantly and stone tiles on the floor flashed to indicate the borders of an area. They kept glowing lightly, opposing to the floating lights that dimmed, casting a spotlight onto the dance floor.
“Dancing?” Childe’s voice was barely audible. He lifted a hand to his chin and watched the ground closely before shifting his weight and leaning to Zhongli again. His proposal made Zhongli straighten up a bit more, alarmed. “Care to start off?”
“You and me?”
“Yes. You do know how to dance, don’t you Mr Zhongli?”
It was a challenge. It was without a doubt a challenge. Whatever went on in Childe’s head- no, that wasn’t important now. Zhongli knew that the time for carefully thinking about the situation was too short and the subject of his close attention too cunning so he did the one thing that was right. Zhongli extended his hand, palm turned upward and smiled. He was absolutely up for the challenge. He wouldn’t back down. He wouldn’t lose.
When they walked onto the dancefloor, every single pair of eyes in the room was on them. Zhongli was aware of the whispered questions (who were they?), turned to his dancing partner while still holding onto his gloved hand and answered in his mind: “It doesn’t matter who we are.”
For a moment time itself came to a standstill. Everybody seemed to hold their breath, imaginary spotlight on the two dancers, whose eyes met through the masks for the first time this evening thanks to their positioning. One inhale, one exhale, before the bards started playing an alluring melody with a clear but foreign sounding tact, the beat of hand drums asking to dictate the dancers’ rhythm. But they were completely redundant because this rhythm was already in the dancers' blood.
A step to the side without averting eyes from each other, the tension in the air so sharp it could cut. The dancers seemed to barely touch each other but each brush of hand, each quick hand on midriff and waist or running along a thigh was intriguingly intimate, an unplanned choreography born from the moments. They were stunningly in sync as if they hadn’t done anything other but dancing together in their life, and left the audience breathless, unable to move, blink or look away.
When the string instruments joined into the music the tone of the dance changed and grew bolder with each passing second. The room’s temperature itself seemed to rise when the dancers clashed, chest against chest, the smaller man’s leg loosely wrapped against his black counterpart and held safely by him, their noses millimetres away from each other when they caught their breaths in an intense pause.
“You’re – “, stunning, beautiful, dangerous, “- a good dancer”, Zhongli complimented, captivated by the magic. Childe bent backwards against his arm with a forlorn smile, tense but flexible, leaned completely against Zhongli's grip -
and with widening eyes Zhongli realized two things.
One: Childe had always been on guard. Despite the smiles, the flirtatious and teasing comments and the good mood Childe had always seemed to have worn a mask, never explicitly stating his true thoughts and feelings. He kept people one arm length away from himself, binding himself straightly to business and never more – as if he were punishing or subconsciously protecting himself.
But when Childe bent backwards in Zhongli’s arms, bending so far that his throat was completely exposed and he only held on because of Zhongli’s arm strength, the realization that it might have been a different kind of protection shot through Zhongli's head. Maybe Childe hadn’t been thinking only about himself. Maybe there was more to the story.
And two: The persistent nagging in the back of Zhongli’s mind, the feeling that something was off, the feeling of irritation – he finally won clarity over its source. The Hilichurl pelt, or rather what Zhongli had thought was Hilichurl pelt, wasn’t fake but Childe’s real hair. It looked differently, the vibrant orange of his usual hair colour turned into bleached grey tones, and it was longer than it had been some days earlier, styled into how it looked now. There was one explanation to that, and Zhongli disliked that.
He inhaled sharply and exerted more strength to get Childe upright again, desperately searching for his eyes underneath the mask.
Tell me it's not true.
He thought he saw how Childe's eyes were clouded by darkness again, lifted a hand to tear the mask off Childe's face - answers, he needed answers - but Childe was faster. His fingers closed painfully tightly around Zhongli’s wrist and he opened their embrace elegantly, brought some distance between them. He let go, one, two, three steps between them now, put a hand behind his back and one flatly against his chest and bowed, continuously looking at Zhongli’s face.
The intention behind everything had changed drastically - what had felt like a challenge earlier had been more like an invitation and suddenly nobody and nothing else in the room mattered. Zhongli didn't even hear the music anymore when he moved to close the distance between them but Childe escaped his arms playfully, danced outside of reach everytime Zhongli tried again. They didn't hear the applause nor noticed pairs walking onto the dance floor.
"Childe, wait!"
Zhongli got finally hold of him outside, in one of the outer bridged hallways that connected with the main building but were far enough from prying eyes. So that Childe couldn't continue running away Zhongli took the first course of action that came to mind, hooked one leg behind Childe’s calf from behind and forced the falling man against the adjoining wall. The force was heavy enough to make all air escape from Childe’s lungs with a muffled “Mph!” and angry fingers immediately dug into Zhongli’s chest, tearing through the fabric and leaving scratch marks on the skin underneath in silent rage. Zhongli pressed his elbow against Childe’s chest to keep him against the wall, nailed him into place with his own body and didn’t give the fingers enough space to work effectively.
This time Childe was too slow to stop him when he reached up and knocked the Hilichurl mask right off Childe’s face. His head got knocked to the side too when the mask flew off into the darkness and bangs of the wrong colour hid his eyes from Zhongli but he didn’t struggle anymore. He simply stared stubbornly to the side, tense.
“Childe.” Zhongli carefully pulled slightly back, still so close to the other that he could keep him in place. There would be a time for apologies later. "I want to help you. Childe, look at me." He chewed on his lip from the inside, waited. "Please."
Childe's face scrunched up and his voice was so low that it could easily get lost in the darkness. But not for Zhongli. Zhongli heard.
“You can’t help me. Don’t feel like you have to be polite. It's too late for that.”
“Polite? This has nothing to do with politeness, Childe.” What then? What does it have to do with then?
“Tch. Sure. It doesn’t.” Childe's fingers clawed against Zhongli's chest as if holding onto a lifeline. He turned his head but didn't look up to meet his eyes. His lips were twisted in distaste. "Why ...? How is it not politeness? You don't understand a single thing, do you?" He exhaled hard and looked up, his face torn between wild determination and ... pain. He had never shown his emotions this openly and all Zhongli could do was stare.
"You are so smart but can be so dumb, Mr Zhongli. I can't understand you no matter how much I try. Don’t you realize it? Don't you see it?! When we danced, you noticed, didn't you? The Fatui – I was ordered to –“, he didn’t get to finish the sentence because two gloved fingers pressed against his lips and stopped him from finishing what he was about to say.
Zhongli lowered his head and pulled his own mask off his face, letting the cat mask slide off his fingers to their feet.
“Don’t tell me”, he asked quietly as if sharing a secret, reciprocating the gaze of those beautiful severe eyes. Their deep blue made him think of frozen ice, of endless skies and wild seas that were as promising as they were dangerous. "I know."
He lifted the hand that he had used to press Childe against the wall, ran his fingertips over Childe's cheek. He knew - and still bridged the distance between them. Before their lips could meet Zhongli was hyperaware of the moment - the sensation of Childe’s proximity, his breath tickling his lower lip, his hands against his chest and in the folds of his clothing. He inhaled shakily. Hesitant. Bracing for rejection. Childe pulled him closer with an impatient yank, his lips hot against Zhongli’s, and pulled himself up and against the other. He wrapped his arms around Zhongli, kissed and enjoyed getting kissed back, stolen moments between two fighting men.
Yes, stolen. Every single time Childe inhaled or traced his kisses around trembling lips, tightened the embrace or let Zhongli pull back to breathe and breathe too, he fought the truth with burning eyes.
Too late. We're too late.
He moved to take another one but Zhongli turned his head to the side, looked as if he might want to have them face reality. Childe hung harder against his chest, made himself smaller on purpose, hungrily took in the view he had on Zhongli's profile, craved to be the center of his attention. Still felt the tingling sensation on his lips and decided that the feeling was better than the honey-sweet nectar drink he had earlier. Desperation seeped into his clouded mind, a wave of feelings that made him want to break out in crazy laughter and cry about their fate at the same time washed over him, and he wished -
“Run away with me.”
“What?” Zhongli’s head shot back, the sad eyes winning back their sparkle. Childe laughed after all - he was used to it - and straightened up again, on eye level with Zhongli. He had always loved getting these little reactions out of this ever so composed man, had loved to search for patterns even if the lack of them made him restless. He simply had to spend more time with Zhongli in order to understand him because in his circle of acquaintances he was the only one Childe couldn’t comprehend entirely.
That had been his pretence for the longest part of his short life. Kill or get killed, that was how the world worked and always had. But what if killing would leave you dead? Wouldn't it be easier to just get killed first?
“I’m serious. Let’s run away.” He cocked his head and retracted his arms from around Zhongli’s shoulders, put them against his sides instead. An act. An act to bring across his true intentions. The things he wanted to do. Even though it was too late. “Just until the night is over. We blew our covers already and”, he sighed dramatically, “there’s no way I’ll start fishing for my mask so I can hardly return to the feast now, can I?”
Please, Zhongli. Let's keep the promise we made earlier.
“It fell into the water?” Zhongli furrowed his brows. “Aren’t you a hydro –“
“Also tonight’s about deepening relationships.” He put his head back and smirked. “Don’t tell me you’re scared, Mr Zhongli? I never knew you were like this. Backing down after being so bold?” He hated the smile on his face. He knew it was wrong to pretend as if this evening hadn’t been meant to go differently. As if he didn’t know his orders. As if the power flowing through his veins and making it so hard to stay in character – the character Zhongli knew – hadn’t been for this one reason.
“Won’t we leave politics aside for tonight and have fun instead?”
It had been too easy to give into temptation. But it was so hard to do what he - Tartaglia - really wanted. How could one simple man have such power over him, the Harbinger who walked alone in the masses, the evil eyes that were lurking in the shadows watchfully, the leader who could make thousands tremble in fear before him in a matter of moments? How could he make him cling to something he was forced to give up in the end? Did the impossibility of it tempt him? Or did Childe discover a side to himself he didn't know he still had?
“What do you have in mind?” Those eyes shouldn’t have been this remarkable. They were brown like earth, could be sweet or bitter like the pieces of chocolate Childe secretly spent Mora often for, lit up with childish joy when he talked about topics that interested him, or grew silent and attentive when he inspected things he tried to understand.
And yet they still were. But Childe refused to acknowledge the truth. Refused to think about it. Pushed it into the back of his mind, reached his hand out to Zhongli instead and said: “Let’s rob a bank!”
He would make full use of this.
Childe wondered why gifting Zhongli Mora made him as happy as it did. Maybe it was because of Zhongli’s reaction, the momentarily glimmer in his eyes when he saw money and the peace on his face that did it for Childe. Over the course of weeks it had not only become a habit but also a source of happiness for him and now running out of Northland Bank with several bags in his hands and Zhongli trailing him with shining eyes had the same effect.
Freedom.
They were laughing together, talking about nothing, joking. Childe flicked coins at Zhongli when they settled on the ground somewhere in the protection of Mount Tianheng until he beckoned him to come closer and pulled him down so they laid side by side. Childe crossed and joined his hands behind his head, feeling strangely melancholic.
Short lived freedom.
“What are you thinking about when you’re looking at the stars?”, Zhongli asked into the peaceful silence. Not that nature was ever completely silent.
Childe thought about the question. He extended one hand, covered the crescent moon with the palm of his hand, let it free from his grip and put his arm down. After a while he answered: "I don't like thinking about stars. They've witnessed too much of what happens at night. It makes me gloomy." He turned his head to Zhongli and looked back into the pensive eyes, searched for any judgment in them. When he couldn't find it, he closed his eyes.
A hand closed around his.
Not a wise decision. We're both hopelessly bad at this.
He returned the pressure around his fingers.
"Stars make me thing about a lot of things. I think about how differently things can turn out. There are endless possibilities. I think about home too." With a sting of regret Childe realized how long he had been gone from home. He had wanted to return to his family one day, to tell his siblings about his wild adventures ... Another regret to add to the long list.
"Stars are cold beauty. But appearances are deceptive because stars are like the sun, burning intensely on their own until one day they extinguish. And it saddens me that I won't notice when they're gone. And if you extend your hand stars seem to be within your reach like some distant dream you're working towards." Childe heard Zhongli move and felt a soft touch against his cheek that made him open his eyes. "But in truth they're so far away. I can admire their beauty and reach out but I'll never be able to reach them, will I?"
Was Zhongli still talking about stars?
“I don’t know. Maybe you just need to try harder.” Childe smiled. “I wonder if everybody still tried to make your acquaintance if they knew what kind of ancient philosophy you’re discussing in your free time. Lucky for you that you got me, huh?”
"Why, don't you agree? I always thought it's extremely interesting."
Childe felt how Zhongli rubbed a thumb over the ball of his hand and adjusted himself so that he could lean on his shoulder, simply holding on to him. He slowly relaxed and could feel how the channelled power gradually seeped away from him - the empowered form didn't hold endlessly after all. If he had wanted to act, now would be the last possibility. If he didn't, there would be consequences.
"You know what I've been trying to tell you?", he asked and felt how he returned to his normal self again, how the seething power returned to sleep. Childe was relieved not to have to look at Zhongli’s face but instead closed his eyes again and listened to how the other’s chest rose and fell in regular breaths, and enjoyed how Zhongli’s fingers massaged the soft skin underneath his gloves.
“Tonight, you’re not allowed to think about it.”
“So you do.” His shoulders shook in silent laughter. “And yet you even kissed me. You robbed a bank with me and now we pretend everything’s fine?”
“To be fair, it was Northland Bank”, Zhongli hummed. “I would kiss you again.”
“I don’t understand you.”
“I told you, didn’t I? Making things complicated is a waste of time. I don’t want to regret things.”
It may be too late for that.
Childe didn’t say it out loud. The orders he had … could wait until the morning. Or maybe longer than that. Who knew. Instead he allowed Zhongli’s closeness and warmth to lower his guard and lull him into a fragile sleep that he even didn’t wake up from when Zhongli picked him up carefully and carried him back to the tavern with him. He remembered waking up shortly when lips touched his forehead and somebody lay down next to him but immediately drifted off again, enclosed in the warmth of a blanket and two strong warm arms around him.
Childe didn't wake up from the first rays of sunshine falling through the window onto his face but opened his eyes sleepily because of a persistent knocking at the door. His mind was blessedly empty and thoughtless and he couldn't remember when the last time was when he was able to sleep this deeply and comfortably. It felt as if for the first time ever since the abyss he hadn't been plagued by dreams. He tried to grasp this feeling and burn it into his heart because he was absolutely certain he'd lose it once he moved. What an invaluable token, Childe realized. This might be the most valuable thing he had ever stolen and had in his possession.
What was the prize for it?
“Childe?”
He turned his head, smiled. “Does someone usually try to break your door down this early in the morning?”
“Mm, no. Most people who have business with me wait until I rise. They camp the tavern or the traveller because of our contact with each other. I assume it’s Paimon.” He described the situation so casually that Childe hummed, impressed.
“Does anything ever upset you?” He turned in the loose embrace and tried to picture Zhongli genuinely angry at something. He thought about how Zhongli would look like when he laughed openly or reacted strongly instead of his balanced controlled reactions. He imagined it and thought about how he wished he'd ever got to see these emotions on his face live, thought how he would have loved to steal these things for himself too. A version of Zhongli only he would possess.
Memories. Intimacy. Shared life.
Wishful thinking.
“Yes. Frankly, I find the knocking annoying.” Zhongli angled one arm and leaned his head against one bare hand, his eyes as soft and safe as they always were. Tempting. Inviting. “Breakfast?”
“You’ll get something?” Surprise on Zhongli’s face. Had he asked this question out of politeness if a positive answer surprised him? But then again, Zhongli didn’t seem to act out of politeness toward Childe, not anymore. Not after last night. Childe couldn’t pinpoint when exactly their relationship had changed but the full realization of everything made his body and soul tremble in wild emotions that threatened to break free. A completely different feeling from the deadly powers in his blood yesterday.
“I will!” Zhongli got up from bed, hesitated after he got fully dressed and gave Childe another long look as if he might rethink his words or disappear into thin air after all but Childe winked at him in response. When he opened the door Childe made sure to give the immediately starting talking Paimon a wide smile when their eyes met, before Zhongli shut the door quickly behind him. Paimon’s change in pitch and additional squeaking on the other side of the door was impossible to miss and Childe pictured how Zhongli tried to evade the questions and try not to draw too much attention to them as they walked on, Zhongli almost fleeing and Paimon following closely, bombarding him with more questions every second.
When they were out of earshot Childe's facial expression changed, the smile on his lips melted and the smiles around his eyes died all at once. That was it. That had to be it. The end of the charade.
He got up and fixed his clothes, redid the belts of his Hilichurl costume, lingered seconds too long by the mirror and accessories he remembered seeing on Zhongli yesterday. By accident his eyes fell onto the bags of money on the floor and he halted. Should he … return them?
Will you leave a debt unsettled?
Childe picked up the bags and wanted to throw them onto the bed but changed his mind last second and made the bed before finishing his action.
He hooked his fingers into the window frame and jumped swiftly over, onto the lower roof and from there onto the pavement. There he dusted himself off, looked up to the open window and gave a salute at nobody before running off. Running, because he couldn’t stand walking away casually.
When Zhongli returned to his room after having successfully shaken off Paimon and her nagging questions he froze at the doorstep to his room. The window was wide open and Childe nowhere to be seen and while Zhongli should've expected it he still felt his shoulders sink down. Swiftly he walked past the neatly made bed and leaned out the window, following his stupid hope of seeing familiar orange flaming hair somewhere.
“If Paimon's not lying this is Childe's money then?" Zhongli looked over his shoulder and saw the traveller come in, Paimon close behind.
"I'm never lying!!"
"So Childe is paying off your debts again, Mr Zhongli? I don't know if that counts anymore."
Right. Zhongli looked back outside, his facial expression darkening. The traveller was right – Zhongli couldn’t accept that Childe was paying all debts on his own anymore either.
“Take it, traveller. I have another debt to pay today. Don't expect me back today.” He whipped around and rushed out of the room, leaving the other two behind in confusion.
He had places to be.