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Childe wakes up in the middle of the night, head dizzy and eyes weary. It takes him a moment before he remembers where he is and he stares down at the person wrapped in his arms. Her light hair shines strong even in the dark and he can’t help the smile that forms on his face. Shifting slightly, he presses her body closer to his own, relishing in the warmth. Nuzzling his head into her hair, he chuckles lightly at the way they tickle. After minutes pass and he’s slowly but surely properly waking up, the smile turns into a frown and he narrows his eyes as he directs his gaze at the wall.
He doesn’t want to see the bandages around her head. Doesn’t want to remember why she has them.
But it’s too late—memories rush in like the unpleasant but strong waves of the ocean. It’s difficult not to recall the events leading to that stupid wound when he’s conscious. It is, after all, his fault that she’s hurt. He holds her tighter, trying to calm himself down. It wouldn’t do him well to lose his nerves and do something he’d definitely come to regret. Sighing, he leans down and places a kiss on her nose before going further down and leaving a trail of kisses down her neck. He inhales her scent and then bites down at a spot before licking it and placing a kiss over the bite mark. She jerks and her breath hitches. But she doesn’t stir awake. Usually, him moving alone would have awoken her but she must be exhausted. Yesterday was too cruel on her.
Childe buries his face into her chest and listens.
Listens to her heartbeat and tries to find reassurance in its song. Like that, he lies there for hours until the dark of the room is graced by the light’s presence, announcing the passing of the night and welcoming the day as dawn breaks through. That’s when she finally stirs slowly, dragging her fingers gently through his hair.
“Possessive bastard,” she mumbles in greeting, obviously having noticed the little sting on her neck. He grins into her chest as he murmurs a cheery ‘ good morning ’ in reply. Relief settles in his core—here she is, throwing snarky remarks. That’s just proof that she’s okay, alive , and with him. After a while, Lumine speaks up.
“Are you going to stop hiding?”
“I’m not hiding,” he mutters as he tightens his hold and then lightens it as he looks up into her golden eyes.
“I’m just reminding myself that you’re here.”
Her eyes widen.
She keeps forgetting it. Childe may be the battle-hungry 11 th harbinger of the Fatui but he knows how to be vulnerable. Usually hidden by his cheerful, fake smiles and extravagant behavior but it’s there and he only showcases it to people he cherishes and trusts well enough. The first time he let her have a part of it, was when he gave Paimon and her his name. Buried beneath Childe and Tartaglia, jaded in a way it should never have been—Ajax. He whispered that name under the watchful gazes of the stars and she’s kept it with her ever since. To him, admitting and acknowledging that he’s worried about losing her is as easy as breathing to him. The same applied to when he confessed he was in love with her—there was no denial phase for him. It still makes her feel dizzy, the realization and understanding, that he loves her enough to put these walls down.
The traveler moves her hand to cup his cheek and smiles down at him—it’s still a bit difficult for her sometimes. She spent centuries with only her brother by her side. Both of them understood each other past the need for words, plus Aether has always been the one more in tune with his emotions out of both of them. They didn’t need frequent smiles or tears or glares to communicate with each other. And then she was frozen in a nightmare for 500 years—she never had a reason to smile during that time nor the consciousness for it.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she replies, gazing right into his blue eyes. “You’ll have me for as long as you want.”
He moves so suddenly it’s unexpected—uses his arm to support himself as he moves up and leans over her and grabs the hand that cupped his cheek.
“Then I’ll keep you forever,” he tells her, eyes intense. “And never, ever let you go.”
He leans down to nuzzle their noses.
“So, don’t you dare to repeat what happened yesterday.” He says with so much emotion that his voice cracks.
Lumine’s breath halts.
He tightens the hold onto her hand. “Promise me, Lumi.”
She remains silent, unable to speak up.
Because she knows that’s a promise she’d break without hesitation.
Tartaglia narrows his eyes.
“Lumine,” he nearly growls out, “promise me.”
The traveler utters not one single word.
Tartaglia sighs, frustration visible in his eyes.
“You can’t—don’t do this to me… just don’t…”
She leads their interweaved hands to her mouth and kisses his. Gentle. Warm.
“I would repeat yesterday over and over if I have to,” she confesses. Not the slightest hint of hesitation or fear in her voice.
His expression is heartbreaking—but she won’t waver. She didn’t either the day before when she shoved him aside and took the attack. Sitting up, she wraps her arms around him and holds onto him tightly, ignoring the way he’s digging his fingers into her waist.
“I’m here,” mumbles into his ear. “I’m right with you.”
There’s something incredibly surreal about seeing him so affected by it all. When she took the hit the day ago, he immediately went into action and took their enemies out, before rushing to pick her up and get away from there. He was calm then. His mien cold and calculated like usual. But that night, he wouldn’t leave her alone. Kept staying beside her, holding onto her and just staring at her, not speaking much—he didn’t need to, his eyes told thousands of tales.
But right at that moment, right there and now, he looks desperate.
“You can’t leave, Lumine. I won’t let you.”
She knows that too.
“I won’t,” she reassures him, ”never ever.”
Then she tilts his head to look into his eyes.
“That’s a promise, Ajax.”
And she seals it with a kiss.