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There was a God. And there was a fool of a human who loved him. Who saw him, a God hardened by war and incapable of feeling- and loved him anyway. Who gave and gave and gave , granted the Gods every wish, spoiled him with dinner dates and gifts—
A fool of a human.
And this shouldn't be how it is. Love shouldn't be a one-sided donation.
But if charity is how Ajax can have him, then he'd throw his money, and blood, and everything he had for the favour of Morax. (A fool of a human, truly.)
So this is how it is. A harbinger who fell hopelessly for the God they don't worship. Who buys art museums as anniversary gifts and doesn't even get a thanks.
"This isn't love." he is told. And he knows it isn't. But he wants to continue pretending it is, that Zhongli is his reciprocative lover and Childe— the doting, rich husband. This isn't love, but you can buy anything with money— even lies.
--🌱
"I wish I loved you."
The words hang heavy in the air. Zhongli looks at Childe.
Childe who tried to drown his nation, then bought him shrimp balls. Childe who loved him before he knew his secret. Childe who still loved him after.
Who could've left.
Who should've left.
Who saw everyone who hadn't left Zhongli had died, and stayed anyway.
This is the closest Zhongli has ever come to truly admitting he doesn't love Childe. Though he likes him so much, there's no desire there. There's no wish to hold him close and not let anyone else have him.
"I really wish I loved you."
Childe looks at him in quiet awe- everytime Childe looks at him Zhongli feels like the prettiest thing in the whole world. Childe looks at him like he is loved and everything correlating to the word.
Zhongli wishes he could look at Childe the same way.
"I wish you did too." Childe replies in barely a whisper.
They don't hold hands for the rest of the night.
--🌱
This is how it ends.
Childe, bleeding out against a polearm plunged through his stomach-
Reason of assassination: betrayal to the Tsaritsa. He understands. He thinks he should've been punished much, much earlier.
He should've died the first time his heart decided to traitorously beat for a God that wasn't his. Maybe then he could've died a more noble death.
But this is how it ends.
You can call it romantic, but it never really was a romance. It was a fool who fell too hard for something he couldn't have, and sold everything he did have for that elusive man.
"I'm sorry," the Fatui who killed him was one of his own. A soldier he once lead, and favoured, and saved from the enemy.
He reaches up to cup her face, "Don't be, Anya. Be proud of your loyalty to our Tsaritsa."
She sobs into her senior's hand, a quiet hurt to her voice, "Why? Why did you do it, Sir..?"
Her accent is thick as it was years ago when she trained her. He smiles fondly,
"You can't control who you love."
She doesn't leave his side. Even as he tells her to go, begs her not to witness such a sorrow sight- she doesn't leave Childe until he leaves her first.
And then he leaves her. He leaves everyone. Forever.
--🌱
A MONTH AGO. Once upon a time.
"Xiansheng,"
Once upon a time, before Childe's heart betrayed him, he and Zhongli were normal friends.
"We should swap visions! Think of how confused enemies will be when they see a hydro vision but bam! You summon a meteor! Ehehe~"
It was a half-hearted suggestion, and Childe was wholly expecting a resounding No but-
"..Sure."
Zhongli looked at him and for a moment Childe felt like the prettiest thing in the world.
That was the first time his loyalty swayed. All the way back then, once upon a time, he started falling for Zhongli.
(A fool of a human. A fucking fool.)
--🌱
Far across the ocean, Zhongli sips wine and listens to tales of himself. It is peaceful, and ordinary, and the vision attached to his back that once was a geo-yellow, then a hydro-blue fades into a grey.
When the holder of a vision dies, the vision dies with them. There is no element signifying grey. Just death.
He doesn't cry, just collapses in on himself. 6000 years but death doesn't get any easier.
He holds the vision up to his chest, as if unwilling to let Childe go. But he's going, or maybe he's already gone- eroded away like everything else.
Guizhong to him, was everything. But now she is nothing more than what the storytellers make of her. And Zhongli holds the vision so tight, so close, wishing the same will not happen to Childe.
Childe does not belong in a story. Childe is a living, breathing thing. A human (maybe a fool, but still human!)
..But in a few thousand years, maybe Childe will be simply the man who tried to drown Liyue Harbor. A story.
( Had he never met Zhongli, maybe Childe could've been something more dignifying. Fuck. )
Zhongli doesn't cry. The storyteller in the restaurant doesn't stop telling stories. A meteor doesn't fall from the sky, the world doesn't end.
It just feels like it does.
And maybe this was a romance story after all.
--🌱