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“You’re… so soft,” she mumbles, snuggling further into the crook of his neck. He freezes, stiff as a hilichurl hit with both hydro and cryo. Her warm breath tickles his exposed skin.
“Leave it to you to call a Fatui harbinger soft,” is what he replies, deciding that maybe offering her a ride on his back wasn’t the best idea after all—especially with her half-awake ass spouting nonsense like this. To be fair, though, he didn’t expect she’d agree to the absurd suggestion in the first place… but the blonde took the offer almost immediately, a heart-wrenchingly cute grin playing on her lips.
Lumine had mounted him so casually—so smoothly, too—that even Childe had to wonder if this was really the first they’d tried something like this. If he was being truthful, he really would’ve enjoyed it a lot more if she acted a little flustered or reluctant. There wasn’t enough luck in the world for him to witness such an adorable scene, unfortunately.
“You are soft though,” she protests drowsily, and Childe can’t help but choke out a laugh.
It might not have been the best idea to let her ride on the ChildeExpress™, but it certainly turned out to be an amusing one.
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Childe trudges further along the winding road, tiny rocks crunching beneath his feet. For a while, that’s the only sound that keeps him company—aside from the faint breathing he can feel fanning his neck. He pointedly ignores it though, knowing he’s walking a thin tightrope being this close to her: one wrong move, and he’d find himself falling… and falling… into a hole where all his thoughts revolve around her. Her rosy lips, her soft-spoken way of speaking… her everything.
“You really need to trust better people, girlie,” he says, filling the silence with something other than her very distracting breathing. “I could kill you right now.”
Silence descends upon the two of them again. Childe is sure she’s in too deep of a sleep to respond, not that he expects her to in the first place. She does, though, whispering how she knows he wouldn’t. Not for the first time, he freezes. Is she just a light sleeper, or is his back just that uncomfortable?
“Mmm? And how are you so sure?” he hums, adjusting his position to make sure the ride is somewhat bearable.
“… That wouldn’t be fun for you.”
Her breathing evens out, and she dozes off once again.
As he lets the words sink in, a small hum of approval escapes him. There’s truth behind her words—he’s seen Lumine in battle before, moving swiftly between opponents to cut through them like butter. It was almost entrancing, the slight sheen of sweat seen on her as she danced through the fight gracefully, not even a strand of hair out of place. Every slight action of hers had a purpose, no movement even remotely unnecessary, and he knew he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t itching to fight her one on one, see her chest heaving in effort as he cut away at her endurance, slowly but surely.
He bites his lip to avoid his growing smile. He has no use for these feelings.
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The sun is already sinking below the horizon by the time they reach the river. On the other side sits a small silhouette, its distinct shape the only way to discern it as the inn. At least he knows he’s been going the right direction—Lumine wouldn’t let him live it down if he got them lost.
For a couple of moments, he can’t help but stand there, eyes trained on the languid waters slowly lapping opposite his feet. He feels like he’s caught in a spell—wanting to look away but finding himself too captivated. In its rippling surface, Childe can spy the moon—brighter than he has ever seen it before, shimmering sparkles dotting the area surrounding it. It’s beautiful, he notes. Breath-taking, even. He finds himself about to whisper her name, wake her, so he can share this.
Before he can do anything, though, a soft glow catches his attention. Its light spills onto the vicinity, bathing the two with a flattering gold.
Fireflies.
He stares, and he stares, and his eyes never move away. It looks like Lumine’s eyes, if a bit less fierce.
“Hey, girlie,” he finally finds the words, still trying to stir awake from the awe he’s caught under. “Look.”
It takes her some time before she dispels her drowsiness, and when she does…
The only thing she does is stare and stare, and all he does is stare and stare. For a moment, everything seems completely and utterly silent.
It’s only him, her, and the ever-golden fireflies.
That is until he notices the empty space on his back. Childe doesn’t know when exactly she detached herself from him, but he’s suddenly aware of her presence beside him, rather than on top of him. Reluctantly, he peels his gaze away from the dazzling gold, attention on Lumine instead. The air is cool against the warmth that suddenly pools in his cheeks. Lumine’s mesmerized expression is much more visible like this.
He speaks against the lump in his throat. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?”
Glowing lights are dancing in the eyes that are now staring back at him.
“…Yeah,” she answers, hand finding a home in his.
For some reason, he has a feeling she’s not talking about the fireflies.
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“I’m pretty sure,” says Lumine, breaking the silence they’d walked in for some time now. Their hands are still intertwined. “Paimon’s gonna be so mad when we get back.”
He shoots her a grin. “We would have gotten there faster if—”
“You offered to piggyback me first!” interjects Lumine, pointing an accusatory finger at him. An arm of his is raised in surrender, a mirthful laugh escaping from parted lips. He wants to tell her he didn’t expect her to practically throw herself at him in the first place—but then settles on something better. Thumb rubbing small, soothing circles on Lumine’s hand, he hums as if in deep thought. “You know, you called me soft, of all things.”
She practically skids to a stop. “I did what?”
“I know, right? I told you that you really shouldn’t call a Harbinger soft, but you insisted.” The truth’s a bit twisted, but it’s not like she’d be able to tell.
“I don’t even remember doing that.”
“Ah, yes.” He nods sagely, one hand under his chin. Lumine has to resist the urge to punch him. “I’m sure you were barely awake, then.”
Luckily for Childe, there was enough luck in the world for him to catch the indignant flush of pink tinting her cheeks. “Remind me never to get piggybacked by you ever again.”
There’s nowhere in hell he’d do that.
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When they finally reach the inn, the moon is still right above them, casting the world in a blue hue. The trek from here to the river didn’t take that long at all, yet everything felt like it moved so slow regardless. He had slapped on a teasing smile then, holding her hand while acting as if he couldn’t feel the regret lodging itself deep inside his stomach. It made him feel utterly sick. And maybe, he thinks, a little helpless as well. Why?
Because he had made that wrong move. He had made that wrong move, and now he’s falling… and falling, and now, all he can think about is her. Her rosy lips, her soft-spoken way of speaking… her everything.
This isn’t how it’s meant to be.
“Girlie,” he’s grinning now, as if guilt isn’t eating at him from the inside. “I’m happy to act so lovey-dovey with you, however…”
It takes her a moment to register that they probably shouldn’t be holding hands; he was a Fatui harbinger and she, an honorary knight for Monstadt—they were clearly on opposite sides. Silently, her hand slips from his, and Childe casually lets his hand fall to his side. There’s a pang of reluctance in both their movements. “... Right.”
Moving swiftly in front of her, he’s about to take another step… before a tiny flying thing collides into his chest. A flurry of punches rain down on him, and he’s sure they’re meant to hurt, but he can only really describe the ‘punches’ as pats. A+ for effort, he decides.
“You dirty Harbinger—”
“Now, that’s no way to greet a friend, is it, Paimon?”
There’s that shit-eating grin of his again.
“Where’d you take Lumine?!” she continues angrily, shrill voice assaulting both his and Lumine’s eardrums. “You said you’d only borrow her for a few minutes, not a day!”
“... We took a little detour. Sorry, Paimon.” Ah, ever the soother, that traveler. Within a few minutes (and a few bribes), she’s got the fairy-like child calmed down… Sort of. Paimon is still huffing, looking like she’s in the middle of a tantrum, but at least she’s not yelling again. Who knows how long his ears would last. Not that he isn’t used to it; he’s got a couple of siblings at home, and, though they’re angels most of the time, their little tempers aren’t something to underestimate…
“Anyway,” Abruptly, he interrupts them in the middle of their banter. Paimon’s been glaring one too many daggers at him. “I’m sure Paimon’s curfew has passed. Maybe it’s time you two head off to bed?”
Lumine arches an eyebrow. “Want me gone so soon? After you ogled me not so—”
Since when did Lumine start teasing him?
“No, no, of course not! You’ve misunderstood me completely, girlie…” he pauses deliberately, deciding that whatever game she was playing, he'd follow. “Though, after our wonderful evening with each other, shall I call you Honey, instead? After all, I’ve heard only couples really hold han—”
She slaps her hand over his mouth—the hand she used to hold his, funnily enough. “Of course, Sweetie. However, maybe you should hold off on the sweet talk before the Fatui finds their 11th Harbinger with his ass kicked.” Lumine’s voice is sickly-sweet, while her face is tinged in a heavy dusting of red. He only laughs, taking her wrist and pulling it down.
“Excited to spar with you, then, pretty girl.”
Paimon, utterly confused, moves her attention from Lumine to Childe, to Lumine again. Did she miss something? Before she can voice any of her concerns, though, Childe’s already found his way out the inn, grinning all the while.
His grin immediately drops as soon as he’s out of sight. Of course he’s excited to spar with Lumine. In fact, he’s sure he probably will. Especially with whatever the Tsaritsa is planning. What he’s not excited about, however, is the fact he’s gotten attached. Attached to his enemy, of all things! Attached to the person he’s going to have to betray - attached to the person he’s going to have to look in the eye and watch as the tenderness in their golden eyes turns to absolute resentment. This is why, he thinks, he should’ve pushed her away at any chance he got.
He should’ve, but he didn’t, and now he knows he’s going to reap what he sows.