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Zhongli, Childe knows, is a perfect example of grace and perfection. He would paint Zhongli in colours of gold and warm brown if he could - elegant, noble, beautiful. The colours of the city he founded, built and nurtured for centuries.
Everything Zhongli does, he does gracefully and patiently. Even though he blends in with his people, poses as just another regular citizen of Liyue, Zhongli still stands out without meaning to, solely for the way he talks and holds himself.
Everyone, even those who know him, turns to look when he walks by, mesmerised and drawn in by Zhongli's mere presence.
Childe is no exception to that. From the moment he'd been introduced to Zhongli, his eyes had never really left the man, as fascinated and interested as everyone else.
Zhongli tells stories every day. He paints pictures with his words and his voice takes Childe away from the Liyue of now to show him the Liyue of then , a Liyue that was not yet this prospering, busy capital of trade but a simple stretch of land.
Bare, and littered with the many spears Morax himself had hurled to slay his enemies.
Childe can see the carnage and the destruction of these wars fought between Gods when Zhongli tells him the stories of old, almost as if he'd been there himself.
Zhongli teaches Childe about the land, the earth, about the sea and the sky above. He teaches him the big things and the small things.
He teaches him, gently, gracefully, how to hold chopsticks, with one warm hand over Childe's own and a low, dark voice muttering praises.
Childe is nothing more than a moth drawn to a flame, really; Zhongli shines like a star, his light divine and warm and beautiful and Childe cannot stay away. Never for long, at least - not even after he learns the truth about Zhongli.
( Morax. Rex Lapis . A god )
He tries to leave Liyue, he really does, to heal his broken heart. But he doesn't succeed in his attempts to truly turn his back on this land, this city and Zhongli.
Those who come across Liyue, tend to stay a while .
He remembers the day Zhongli said these words to him, his amber eyes shining with amusement when Childe had told him, in the beginning, that he wouldn't stay long.
That had been weeks, months ago.
In present time, the sun hangs deep over the horizon and bathes the mountains and the water in gold.
Zhongli walks gracefully along the shore of Guyun Stone Forest, his bare feet sinking into wet sand with each step. Childe walks by his side, smiling, listening, as Zhongli speaks about the myths and legends surrounding this area. They've both left their shoes behind on a rock before walking the beach.
Zhongli's coat and Childe's jacket were left there as well.
Childe tightens his hold on Zhongli's hand, earning himself a look of amber eyes that can only be described as fond. It warms him more than the sun shining down on them.
Everything Zhongli does, he does gracefully.
Even such a trivial thing as bending down and picking up a starconch, he makes look elegant. He holds it out for Childe, who puts it to his ear - elemental energy thrumming beneath his fingers and a distant echo of laughter in his ear. It sounds like Zhongli.
Childe pulls him along, deeper into the water until it reaches their knees and walking becomes wading , the steady pull of the tides a little more insistent.
Zhongli is elegance and grace and divine beauty wrapped up under mortal skin. His every move is dignified.
But when Childe, lovestruck and distracted as he is, trips over a rock hidden under the water and falls, there's nothing dignified about the way Zhongli topples over along with him.
They land with a splash and with saltwater drenching them down to the skin.
Childe looks at Zhongli. Ever so elegant Zhongli, whose brown hair looks almost black from the water, droplets beading at the tips and glistening on his skin. Zhongli, whose amber eyes are wide with surprise.
Then he bursts out laughing. Carefree and heartfelt and it's not long before Zhongli's rumbling laughter joins him.
"You look like a drowned cat, xiansheng," Childe teases easily, knowing he looks none the better. His cheeks burn. He reaches out, tucks a strand behind Zhongli's ear and tries to wipe the water away, to no avail. Zhongli smiles, his eyes bright.
"Rascal," he answers and it sounds impossibly fond .
His lips are warm when he kisses Childe, the taste of the sea on their tongues. The sun warms them both, the ocean tugs at their clothes, but they don't move, caught in the moment, lost in each other.