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A speck of color contrasted against the seemingly endless stream of white, urging him to take a look. He crouched in front of it, and caressed the blue petals with the tips of his fingers. A solemn smile crept on his face as his vision blurred.
How curious. How did it get here, in a land where grass yielded to snow, where frost is the only constant? And more importantly, how foolish had he become to let such a harmless thing make him feel immense anguish?
He would’ve thought of it as a question that could never be answered, something meant to be left unknown. But that was entirely untrue. Of course he knew, the voice in his head never ceased to nag at him over it. He remembered, everything. The laughter, the smiles, the love.
The love that he endlessly gave but never received. He was daft to expect more- to expect anything at all. His beloved was a God, and he a mere mortal, one corrupted by darkness. It was not to say his beloved was incapable of feeling- far from it. In fact, he felt intensely, more than anyone. But not for the people of the present- not for him.
He remembered how Zhongli would often mention he loved Childe’s eyes. It would always leave the latter a flustered mess, red cheeks accompanied by a shy smile. But now, now that he knew why he said so, he merely chuckled gravely.
Blue, blue, blue. It was a wonder Zhongli said his favorite color was yellow- he seemed to be exceedingly fond of blue. Blue like the sea, blue like starconches, blue like the flower in his hand, blue like Childe’s- her eyes.
He was so irresponsible. Falling in love with his target, his mission. The mission that he failed, the mission that brought disappointment to his Goddess. He was so stupid. To let his guard down, to let a dense, strange consultant into his heart.
Nevertheless, he was grateful. Maybe the moments he cherished so much were fake and fabricated. Maybe Zhongli simply used him as a way to distract himself from his pain. But to him, they were real. To him, he made him feel human, not a monster born from the Abyss.
Perhaps he was just a pawn in his plan, but he still loved him, no matter what. Even if the object of his affections had never, and will never reciprocate his feelings.
“Don’t you think glaze lilies are pretty, Childe?” Surely he does. After all, they were his favorite.