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Walking the streets of Liyue Harbor, one can never truly be alone. The crowd never dissipates, constantly bustling from shop to restaurant to port and back again. Even at night, drunkards stumbling out of taverns find themselves accompanied by the stray dogs and cats that make their homes in the city alleyways.
The busy streets never slow, but when you walk them with Zhongli, the rush finds its way to the very back of your mind. He has this way of capturing your full attention; rarely is he silent on your walks, always having something to say about everything around you, from the wares being sold at the various stands to the flowers blooming in the grass at the edge of the pavement. You don’t mind, though. Of all the voices to have to hear on a daily basis, Zhongli’s is definitely preferable. It’s not like he’s disruptive, anyway. The information he shares is meant only for your ears, so you listen intently.
His mini lessons are only typically interrupted when something catches his eye, usually in one of the many shops dotting the streets. He’ll stop, excuse himself, and go take a closer look, perhaps striking up a quick conversation with the shop owner. Sometimes you’ll join him—sometimes you’ve no choice, like when he forgets to bring a sufficient amount of Mora with him—but more often you’ll find a shaded spot to stand, as out of the way as you can be, while Zhongli has his fun.
Today, remaining out of the way is proving to be a challenge. You can’t quite escape the crowd, but you manage to fight your way to the very edge of it. Breathing a sigh of relief, you turn to face the direction you just came from, realizing the particular stand Zhongli stopped at was now a considerable distance away. You decide to stay where you are, though, watching for him in case he couldn’t find you in the midday rush.
It’s as you’re standing there, watching the crowd and keeping an eye out for Zhongli, that you feel a presence directly behind you. You think it a little weird—considering the crowd is moving the opposite direction that you’re looking—but figure someone else has, like you, simply stopped to wait for whoever they’re with.
So you pay the presence no mind.
That is… until you feel whoever’s behind you brush up against you.
You go rigid, your pulse picking up in alarm, but ultimately give the stranger the benefit of the doubt. The street’s busy; it’s not unlikely that they just got pushed closer to you and were unable to stop before bumping into you.
But then a few seconds later, you feel it again. This time it’s clearly intentional, there’s unmistakably a hand pressed to the small of your back, beginning to slide upwards.
You whirl around, mustering up the fiercest glare you can.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Try as you may, you can’t completely suppress the slight tremble in your voice as you stare at the unfamiliar man standing before you. He flashes you a grin, and your fists clench at your sides.
“Aw, come on,” he practically coos . “I was just admiring you, darling .”
Your jaw drops , appalled at the nerve, the audacity this stranger has. He takes a step forward, and you try to take one back, but there’s nowhere to go; you’re trapped between him and the ever-moving wave of people on the streets.
You briefly glance at the crowd, hoping someone will stop and help, but no one pays you any mind. “I never said you could—” You cut yourself off when he steps even closer. Raising your hands to try and push him back, you yelp as he grabs both your wrists. You struggle, but his hold is firm, and he’s stronger than you, so it does nothing. You’re prepared to snap at him again, or start yelling and screaming, anything to get away , but you’re interrupted.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
It’s your original question, but this time repeated by a low voice that’s not your own.
A voice you’re relieved to hear: Zhongli’s.
You can’t see him, not willing to turn your back to the man now carefully releasing your wrists, but Zhongli sounds livid . Sure, his voice is level, but it’s dropped at least an octave, and lacks the friendly charm it usually carries. In all honesty, you don’t want to turn around; you can feel the intimidating aura radiating off of him from where you are now .
The stranger laughs, albeit a little nervously. “Sorry, sir, my friend and I were just—”
“Your friend? ” You can feel Zhongli move closer to you as he practically growls . He’s so close that the front of his coat brushes against your back each time he inhales. The man in front of you has turned his attention—his expression now visibly fearful—to the rather imposing figure behind you, and you more feel than hear Zhongli’s laugh as the man swallows nervously. He doesn’t dare tear his eyes away, even as Zhongli wraps his arms around you, pulling you against his chest before continuing.
“I can guarantee if there was anything positive to be said about you, I would have heard it already.” You’re only half listening at this point, too taken aback by Zhongli’s very obvious display of affection, as possessive and intense it may be. He’s normally so composed, hesitant to even hold hands around others most of the time. You can feel your heart begin to race again—this time because you’re flustered, not afraid—as your cheeks grow darker. His next line, though, delivered lowly as he leans over you to speak to the now-trembling stranger, is what really gets you.
“If I ever find you messing with my treasure again, there will be swift and severe consequences.”
You duck your head as Zhongli further tightens his arms around you, the man scampering away back into the crowd, far away from you. He doesn’t move, and you bury your face into his arm. After a moment in silence—well, silence on his part, as the people wandering the streets are as loud as ever—he clears his throat, straightening himself so he’s no longer curled around you. His arms loosen, too, and he takes a couple steps back. You turn to face him, but keep your head down and gaze averted.
Zhongli softly calls your name. “Are you alright?” He asks, one of his hands coming to rest under your chin, gently coaxing you to look at him. You do, finally, and see his amber eyes swimming with worry. You offer him a tiny nod, and he accepts it, avoiding pressing you further. He relaxes, finally, letting out a long sigh.
“Well,” he removes his hand from under your chin, instead holding it out for you to grab. “Shall we continue on our way then, dearest?”
Your smile widens, and he returns one of his own in kind.
“Yes,” you say, taking his hand in yours. “We shall.”
He hums, stepping forward to lead you back to the street. The crowd is as busy as ever, but you hardly notice it as you walk with Zhongli.
Every so often, you glance down at your intertwined hands, and you smile.