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Summary
“So… I won this round, comrade,” Childe says with a waggle of his eyebrows.
“You did,” she says, eyes glinting with something like amusement. He could never be sure of what it is she’s truly feeling—but he likes it, how she keeps him on his toes.
“I’m ready for my prize then,” he declares, leaning against her, forearm pressed to the tree trunk. Staring down at her, expectation in his startling-clear blue eyes.
Woe to the conqueror—because sometimes, winning is more pain than reward.
Series
- Part 5 of twitter snippets