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Chongyun loves when Razor listens.
Whenever he slips into one of his unplanned high-strung tangents, his lips prattling endlessly on and on about archon-knows-what, Razor never interrupts him once. His eyes always watching in rapt attention as though Chonyun’s incoherent mashing of words and phrases are meals to be savored. Certainly, no conversation with Razor has ever felt one-sided. Be it simple grunts or one-word affirmations, Chongyun has long learned these to be signs that Razor is indeed listening intently.
(Chongyun suspects that Razor probably isn’t even fully aware of what he’s talking about half the time but that doesn’t stop the wolven boy from eagerly nodding along to whatever topic they’ve stumbled upon that day and it makes Chongyun feel on top of the world.
There's something about the way Razor snaps to attention, his red eyes dazzlingly wide and curious, that sets something in Chonyun’s chest aflame no matter how many times he tries so hard to stifle it.)
Razor’s presence is the balmy scent of spring taking root in Chongyun’s life, reverently hanging on to every inch and Chongyun finds that he does not mind at all.
Back then, at a time when he was still not familiar with the Monstadtian landscape and ended up in Wolvendom territory during a particularly tricky exorcism, that was when Chongyun stumbled upon its fierce protector. Fangs bared and hackles raised, the silver-haired creature cloaked in the shadow of the night wasted no time in drawing his steel claw at Chongyun. The exorcist only had a second to admire the deadly beauty of the magnificent being in front of him before his highly-trained instincts kicked in to parry a heavy strike from the stranger’s claymore. Convinced that this was no vengeful spirit borne from the forest, Chongyun frantically tried to explain that he truly meant no harm and that may they please graciously lower their weapon?
After that mishap was over and simple introductions were exchanged, Chongyun had told the boy—who he now knew was named Razor—that he’s searching for a troublesome spirit that might’ve ended up in Wolvendom. Lightning-fast hands snapped up to grab his wrists and the ashen-haired boy said to him, “Let me help. Razor will protect you.” His voice is firm and left no room for argument.
(Chongyun felt his whole body heat up at such a bold declaration and he quickly removed himself from Razor's tight grip before his temperature rose to dangerous extremes.)
It didn’t take long for Chongyun to convince Razor that he poses no harm to the inhabitants of the forest. A few visits to Wolvendom accompanied by different specialties from Liyue later, Chongyun won Razor over, if the way his eyes light up in pure joy whenever he visits is anything to go by.
Out of all the things he’s brought, Razor took a quick liking to the Cor Lapis the most, fascinated by the glowing patterns on its amber surface.
“Tough. Bright,” Razor said. “Like you.”
Chongyun had to do a double take to make sure he heard Razor right. (This boy’s forthright disposition is not doing his constitution any good.)
Eventually, Chongyun, too, finds himself to be considered as someone precious enough to be granted protection under the vigilant eyes of the wolven boy.
“You are, friend,” Razor simply says one day. “I protect friends with my life.”
(Needless to say, Chongyun couldn't stop his heart from jumping to his throat making it hard to speak. He was in a state of lukewarm bewilderment the whole day, frequently bumping into things and grinning like an idiot all the while. Razor had to drag him to the nearby river to cool him down.)
Faced with the potent chill of undaunted ice, the stubborn thunder slowly acquiesces.
Chongyun wonders if Razor is getting tired of him.
He knows his company can be too much sometimes. There are numerous restrictions to keep track of and even many more things to avoid in order for him to even have a semblance of control on his high levels of yang energy. To some, this makes him come off as a killjoy that hates to let loose and just have fun (which is somewhat true). But on the other hand, whenever he lets his yang energy get the better of him, Chongyun turns into a complete jovial idiot blissfully wreaking havoc in his wake, leaving those around him to deal with the messy aftermath. There’s a reason why he doesn’t just let any person get too close to him. (Because forming an attachment is easy but letting go is harder and he can’t handle heartbreak that will eat him up inside, can’t afford someone to spark a raging inferno inside him and thaw well-built defenses and turn everything he loves into ashes.)
Razor, to his credit, takes this all in stride. Goes along with whatever mood Chongyun is in and never outright raises any complaint or judgement. He stares at him with the eyes of an ancient spirit that has seen and experienced too much and it oddly brings comfort to the exorcist.
Chongyun recalls a certain moment with Razor. It was when he didn’t prepare enough popsicles to last him the whole day. (For some reason his thoughts were only focused on Razor the whole time he was preparing for his trip. Probably the nerves getting to him.) They were hunting for… something. He can't quite remember. His memories usually tend to get foggy on the details whenever his yang energy acts up—and that day was no different. All Chongyun remembered was one second he was tugging poor Razor by the arm and the next thing he knew, he had the wolf boy wrapped around his arms in a tight embrace.
His brain was already melting into mush at that point and yet it somehow latched on to the gentle way Razor held him back, like tiny sparks jumping across his skin. There was a long pause between them, with Razor having the most astonished expression Chongyun has ever seen on him. After an eternity has passed, the boy said in a deep thoughtful rumble, “Lupical, very warm. Not frosty ice at all.”
Chongyun then proceeded to black out.
He woke up later in a cozy lit room to a burning fever, beads of sweat coating his forehead. Turns out, he fainted along the way home and some kind soul took notice of his unconscious body lying on the road and decided to carry him all the way to Wangshu Inn.
(When all was said and done, he remembers his traitorous heart singing, no single drop of regret to be found in the suffocating seaful of embarrassment because Razor had called him his Lupical. Lupical! It felt surreal.
And not that he’d ever admit it out loud, but he loves it when Razor holds him like that. Like he’s cherished—something to be protected.)
With Razor, Chongyun knows he is in good hands. Because deep down to his very core, Razor is a protector. Ever-watchful and alert, his ruthless claymore and thundering claws are ready to defend those he loves, no hesitation. His gaze is that of a silent predator who would fight tooth and claw for his pack. This pure-hearted and selfless boy always pays attention to the happenings in his home and never backs down from potential threats that dare threaten the lives of his Lupicals and it’s something Chongyun deeply admires about him.
Chongyun whole-heartedly trusts Razor with his life.
It’s fitting, Chongyun thinks, for the boy who’s raised by creatures of the night to have watchful eyes the color of a blood moon. Red. The color of fire, vitality and luck—the color of burning passion, spicy Jueyun chilies, and of Razor’s piercing eyes. (The color Chongyun can never seem to escape from.)
Razor is fierce, in almost everything he does—a force to be reckoned with. He is a fearless fighter and protector. But above all else, Razor loves dearly, silently, and fiercely.
Chongyun values the time he spends with Razor.
Born and raised in the bustling hum of commerce with an overflowing yang energy to boot, steely vigor flows deep in his veins. Wherever one goes in Liyue, they’re sure to feel the thrumming life force of all its hardworking inhabitants even in its most secluded corners. You can always hear the busy streets and noisy crowds of the harbor and it’s impossible to feel truly alone. It’s one of the many things Chongyun loves about his hometown. His fellow Liyue friends and loved ones are the kinds of people sure to liven you up. He definitely wouldn’t trade them for the world (even if they do drive him up the wall countless of times).
Sometimes, though, things can get to be too much—feelings get too much, his yang energy gets too much and he’s left with a surging fire in his stomach threatening to eat him up alive, so he locks himself up in a frigid state of concentration and solitude. (He even has a spot in Dragonspine that does the job, where his only companions are the howling wind and the crystal-clear icicles.)
It’s never like that when he’s with Razor, though. The wolven boy and his companionable silence has this peaceful and calming effect on Chongyun, like a warm blanket on a rainy day. Chongyun never feels compelled to put up his icy defenses and act out someone he’s not around Razor. (Even if he did, wolf-honed senses are sharp enough to detect any hint of deception.) Razor doesn’t bat an eye when his yang energy acts up and simply accepts all of him in that silent way of his. With Razor, it’s never been too much.
(Later on, Chongyun found the Cor Lapis he’s given carefully tucked away inside Razor’s wooden crate filled with all kinds of gifts and trinkets. Heat slowly crept into his throat all the way up his eyes because that’s when he knew what to call the feeling in his heart. Stupid, for he realized too late he has absolutely no chance.)
And so life goes, to an ordinarily pleasant day spent together—Razor scouts a few steps ahead, searching for the cave they’ve decided to be their temporary shelter against the elements, while Chongyun lags behind, content in watching Razor show off his tracking skills. They position themselves on a particularly soft patch of grass and lie down to get a good view at the night sky twinkling above.
(Chongyun carefully reaches beside him and feels rough fingers brush against his. Razor gives a slight twitch and looks over in surprise but tears his gaze away just as fast and doesn’t say anything.)
Just like that, even with no words exchanged between them, Razor—the silent protector that he is—watches and listens, ever-vigilant and Chongyun—
Chongyun knows he is heard.