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Morax might’ve believed in love, before Guizhong died, before Barbatos fell asleep or the Tsaritsa sealed herself inside her Zalpolarny palace in the middle of frigid Sneznaya. Or before he sealed away or murdered all his other lovers with his very own charcoal hands. Rex Lapis is dead, and Morax is gone, eroded away with time when the mouths that spoke his name ceased to utter it. But Zhongli believes in love. He thinks it’s pure, and new– and he’ll give it a shot.
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Mortal lives are too short, too fragile. Zhongli didn’t think this would happen again. Took everything for granted and forgot who he was. Someone who’s watched every single person around him die, leave, or disappear. So when he’s shaking, on his knees, and Childe’s body is getting colder quicker than Zhongli can transfer body heat, he finds it hard to form tears.
Fuck Celestia for doing this to him, fuck the abyss mage that stuck this stupid fucking icicle in his chest, fuck Zhongli for not saving him, fuck everyone.
“Hey.” Childe’s voice is raspy and he shivers as he speaks, lifting up his hand to feel for Zhongli’s. Childe hums contentedly as Zhongli immediately grabs it, intertwining their fingers and pressing them to his chest. Zhongli can’t do this, he can’t be angry, he has to smile back. In Childe’s last moments he has feign happiness.
“When I die,”
“No, please, don’t say that.” A voice crack.
Childe coughs again and promptly gurgles up blood afterwards. Zhongli can barely watch. He wants his gnosis so bad, wishes he never gave it up and maybe with it he could do something right now. But he’s powerless, he’s weak, and he’s never hated himself more.
“When I die,” Childe stresses, and Zhongli doesn’t interrupt him this time. “Promise me you… you’ll still go to Wanmin restaurant. And you’ll still listen to Tian’s stories. I know how much you loved them, don’t give them up because of me.” His voice fades out in the end and he stops to cough up more blood.
“It… It wasn’t supposed to end like this.” Zhongli is going to cry. For once in a millennium, he’s going to cry.
Childe laughs and Zhongli almost wants to throw up at how he can chuckle at a situation like this. Then he remembers this will probably be the last time he hears his laugh, and he wants to bottle it up and never let the sound go.
“I… I love you. The time I spent with you was the best six months of my life.” Childe’s eyes flutter shut as he accepts his death and this has to be some seriously fucked up nightmare right now.
“I love you, Childe.” Childe’s lips curl up into a small smile and his eyes shut. Zhongli chews at the insides of his cheeks and his lips until the taste of metal fills his mouth. Childe is cold. So cold. His warmth had always filled up the room, spread to Zhongli instantly with every touch. Now he’ll stay cold like this forever, will rot away until the only thing that’s left of him is a face and a voice Zhongli will never forget.
The first thing Zhongli does when Childe is gone is scream. He screams until his throat is hoarse in place of tears that cannot come. He pulls Childe up to his chest and his hands tremble frantically against Childe’s skull. He wraps his arms so tightly around his corpse that it would have strangled him were he alive.
There were so many more things he wanted to say. So many stories he never shared. He presses his lips to the top of his head and holds it there. He would sit here for an eternity with him. He’ll erode away with Childe. He doesn’t fucking care anymore. Oh how cruel is fate.
Giving love a chance was the stupidest thing Zhongli ever did.