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Zhongli is mysterious. A suave and laid back demeanor hiding what Childe can only assume to be a myriad of secrets. His eyes, Archons, (not to make it extremely obvious that he stares at him a lot longer than one probably should) are as gold and dark as the sun rearing its head from behind an eclipse. Needless to say, the man entrances him.
The funeral parlor is nearly empty, besides the busy hums of a young woman sitting behind a desk and sorting through piles of documents. Childe, as insane as he is, is still a bit unsettled when he comes across the funeral director, who is always more cheerful about her job than even Childe is. What’s so thrilling about dead people? Unless you’re the one killing them, he really doesn’t see the excitement.
“Ah, Miss Hu Tao. Is Mister Zhongli here right now? I have something to return to him…” The girl jumps back in her seat and stares down Childe with a smile.
“Childe! It’s always a pleasure to see you, let me see if he’s here.” She jumps up and walks to a place in the back of the parlor that Childe can’t see. Well, he won’t be nosy. The Harbinger waits patiently for Hu Tao to return.
The young woman returns with a sad look on her face. “It appears he’s not here after all. Oh! Silly me,” She picks up a small card on her desk. “He’s clocked out for the night. You really should come earlier, I think the old man likes to sleep early, heh.”
Childe tries not to let a frown creep onto his face. “I see. Thank you for the help anyway Miss Hu Tao.” She replies with a ‘no problem’ and a shamelessly promoted business card.
-
Childe’s not a stalker, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t remember where Zhongli lived. Now although that sounds creepy and obsessive, he had walked the consultant home before after a dinner had run long with conversation. Now if it weren’t strictly a business date, perhaps Childe would have come with him into his home and…
He catches the man on his balcony, stepping toward him quietly in a much creepier way than he had intended. “Hello Childe.” Zhongli croons without turning, an exhale of smoke and a greeting all in one almost-shaky breath that almost-has Childe reeling.
“Hello Mister Zhongli, I just came to return your pen.” Childe swallows, too nervous and hot and staring at places he shouldn’t be staring. Wounded up in all the beauty that is Zhongli, Childe’s shock takes a second to settle in on the sight he’s looking at. Childe would never have expected one of the many secrets the consultant hides behind his cold cor lapis eyes to be such a dirty habit like smoking.
There’s a pause. Too heavy in the air to be comfortable as Childe awkwardly holds to pen out to the consultant, palm outstretched in a way so strange that he looks like he does not belong in his own skin right now.
“Coming to my home? To return a pen?” He’s not taking anymore drags, hiding the lit cigarette in his palm as if he’s just been caught smoking by his mother. Childe swallows again. “That’s very silly, don’t you think?” Zhongli tilts his head with a slight chuckle. Childe relaxes his hand.
“I’ll have to say I don’t understand, it’s just the right thing to do, especially for such a special colleague like yourself.” Zhongli gives a small nod, like he knows it’s bullshit. Is it so wrong for Childe to take this small opportunity to see him? It’s not like this was premeditated… he just so happened to find his pen in his jacket pocket…
“But I have to say, Mister Zhongli, I didn’t know you smoked.” Zhongli tenses up and turns to face the Harbinger. His face is pale, but it always is, especially at nighttime. He bites the insides of his cheeks.
“Ah, I don’t usually.” There’s a but. “But old habits have a way of coming back when we are experiencing difficult times.” Childe can imagine a young Zhongli with a cigarette in his mouth, insulting his mother and running away from home. The image makes him stifle a laugh.
“I’m embarrassed, really. May we pretend you never saw this?” Childe nods and Zhongli gives a small smile before turning his body fully to face Childe.
“Thank you for returning this to me, Childe.” Zhongli wraps his gloved hand around Childe’s own and slowly closes his palm. “But you can keep it, I have plenty more where that came from.” The phrase is low and hushed and if Childe didn’t know any better he’d assume the man meant it suggestively. Nonetheless his heart is pounding out of his chest, the warmth of Zhongli’s hand dissipating as he slides past him to his front door.
“Goodnight Mister Zhongli.” Childe croaks out thanking the Tsaritsa that Zhongli’s back is turned to him and he can’t witness his face grow red and embarrassed.
Childe thinks that Zhongli is just as beautiful as he is secretive.