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His hair had grown longer since Zhongli last saw him.
Ginger tips could almost caress the freckled skin of his shoulder, and behind the curtain of copper were ocean blue eyes that looked at him with absolute indifference. They were dull, like an ocean that stretched for miles. The little bit of life those beautiful eyes once had been stolen— by him, his mind supplied.
Zhongli shakes his head. It was war. A war that involved the divine Celestials and the fallen Abyssals. No life was spared from devastation in a cataclysm of that magnitude. There was nothing else that could have been done— nothing else he could have done. It was not as if he did nothing to save Childe. He did something. He tried talking to him. He tried getting him on his side. May Celestia be a testament to how much Zhongli yearned that Childe would choose to be by his side.
Childe ultimately chose not to.
It was a heartbreaking moment that Zhongli wished to forget. He had never seen sunsets the same way again after that. The sound of waves crashing on the sandy shores of Liyue had stopped being soothing. Starconches were beautiful and its hue remained his favorite shade of blue— yet its beauty had began to hurt him, and looking at them became too painful to truly admire. Because years ago, when Childe stood barefoot in the shallow water with his pants rolled up to his knees, a starconch held in his hands, and the tender light of dusk behind him did he declare the end of them.
"I am choosing my Tsaritsa."
And who was Zhongli to stop a mortal from devoting himself to his god?
Maybe he should have done something. He could have tried harder to convince Childe. He could have asked the Tsaritsa for his freedom— Zhongli chooses to ignore the correct part of his brain that tells him that Childe would have chosen her regardless if he was a Harbinger or not. He could have done anything to keep Childe by his side, and maybe they wouldn't be in this situation right now.
Zhongli the victor, and Childe the prisoner.
The thin white shirt and the dusty brown pants was a far cry from the regalia he wore when they first met all those years ago. His youthful exuberance was chipped away by the rot of war and adulthood. What was once an energetic adult had turned into world-weary man in his 30s. The eyes that looked at him with adoration and the smile that was almost always present on his lips was now gone. There was no love in him, but neither is there contempt. All Childe feels is nothing.
His heart was a hollow chest that was once filled with an abundance of treasure.
"Childe."
The man did not respond. Zhongli felt the gnosis in his chest thrum faster than normal. He clenches his fist to abate his nerves. It would not do well to feel such intense emotions when he had his gnosis back. He closes his eyes. A deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. He digs his nails in the leather of his gloves just to have some form of grip to something.
"Tartaglia."
Still no response. There was a slight twitch on his lips though. It was barely noticeable even to a god like Zhongli. He turns his head away. The seeds of shame sowed in his gut takes root and its stalk grew to wrap itself tightly around his heart and rip it out from the cavity of his chest. It was hypocrisy, or maybe irony? To feel so ashamed of thinking about doing something so shameless.
"Ajax."
There was a loud bang. Hands shackled with geo slammed itself on the wooden table. There was finally something in his eyes— anger. Hatred, maybe. Childe was murderous in his gaze. Zhongli could remember a time when that name on his tongue rewards him with a smile instead of a glower. He fights back another sigh. He knows it would do nothing but anger him more.
"You lost your right to say that name in Yaogoang Shoal all those years ago." Childe grits his teeth. He turns away to look at anywhere but Zhongli. His jaw was tense and his hair curtains his eyes. A brief second of silence passed before Childe heaves a deep sigh. "What do you want from me?"
"What do you mean?" And acting innocent was the worst course of action Zhongli could have done in this situation.
"Why are you here?" Childe slumps. His breaths were deep as if exhausted, and he must be. He fought in a war and lost. Now he was in a prison with no life left to live. Who would not be exhausted? "Why am I still alive?" When we know I am to die anyway. Was left unsaid.
Zhongli was silent. Not because he doesn't know the answer, but because of the answer. A sunset at Yaogoang Shoal and a whole ocean had already been witness to the testament of how unwelcome his heart was in Childe's life. Zhongli bites back the desire to confess. He knows it would do nothing. He knows that the love he possess would be detested if he was to offer it in a silver platter. A love so useless was worse than a love fruitless— and he was both.
So Zhongli settles on a half-lie. "I missed talking to you."
Childe was silent and Zhongli thinks he didn't hear him, until Childe scoffs.
"I almost forgot how it felt when you lied to me."
Zhongli clenches his fist tighter. He looks away in shame. In guilt. Pure hatred envelopes him like a warm blanket. It was so mortal of him to find the time to loathe himself. Childe did always have a talent for making him so raw and mortal.
"Zhongli."
He feels his heart tighten.
"Rex Lapis."
He swallows the lump in his throat.
"Morax."
He takes a shaky breath.
"I will never love you again."
"I know." Zhongli whispers under his breath.
"Not like I would have the time anyway." Childe leans back on his chair in fake nonchalance. He smiled once again— this one, however, was full of rue. There was acceptance in his eyes. An acceptance that Zhongli did not like. "Did you hear the news? I am dy—."
"You don't have to."
Childe laughs. "And what are you going to do? Break me out of jail? Save me?" As if you can save me.
"I—."
"Forget it." Childe stares him down. Zhongli could only watch in horror as he kept on smiling. Like he had accepted death. Tartaglia the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger was accepting death silently. "I would like to rest just as you did all those years ago."
Why not rest with me? Zhongli wants to ask, but there was not point to do so when he already knew the answer. Childe simply does not want to spend the rest of his life with him. Simply meeting like this must have been something he detested too. Zhongli was purely being selfish when he went to this prison.
"Is that all you needed to say?" Childe looks at him and it had everything that Zhongli did not want. He did not think this was what their relationship would have ended up as when he first told Childe he loved him long ago.
"If I had not asked you to choose between me and the Tsaritsa back then... how different do you think things would be for us?"
Childe scoffs. He laughs so loud it mocks him. "Does it matter? It was bound to happen anyway. I loved the Tsaritsa and... I loved you." His smile drops and instead he sighs. "You made me so happy that there are times that I wished we could have... anyway." Childe sighs again. "Not like it matter. We reached this place and there is nothing any of us can do about it... I don't really think anything would make that much of a difference."
A small smile blooms in Childe's lips. "If I wanted something to be different, I wish you could have just killed me back then instead of doing this bullshit jail thing when I'm just going to be executed in front of the people anyway."
"I did not want you to die by my hands."
"I wanted to die only in your arms."
Zhongli takes a deep breath. There was a knock from a Milelith outside to warn him about the time limit. He only had five minutes left and after that the only time he would be able to see Childe was on the execution platform. Where did things go wrong? When all he wanted was to spend an eternity with Childe, and all he got were these five minutes.
Zhongli stands from his seat. Childe watched him move to his side and kneel in front of him. Zhongli pulls the gloves off his hands before reaching out to gently hold the freckled skin of his cheek. He swallows another lump in his throat, and his voice cracks when he whispers.
"I wish things were different."
Childe stares at him for a second or two before he smiles sadly. He reaches his hands out to try and caress Zhongli's cheek. The geo of the shackles grazes his chin, but it did not matter when his hands burned him with its warmth. Childe leans down to tenderly press his lips on Zhongli's.
It was one of a million they had shared in this life, but it carried more weight than all million of them combined.
To Childe, it was the last kiss of his life.
To Zhongli, it was the last time he would kiss the love of his eternal life.
Childe pulls away just as when the Milelith opened the door. "I do too." He whispers low enough for only the both of them to hear.
Zhongli grabs his gloves from where he left it when he stands. Childe made a point to look anywhere but at him when he walked to the exit. His footsteps were light and quiet, but it was heavy all the same. It carries the weight of a parting never to be reunited.
Zhongli stops by the door way. His eyes linger on Childe for a second longer before he takes a deep breath.
"Farewell, Ajax."
Then he leaves.