Chapter Text
“Hey. How are you guys feeling?”
Childe steps up to Zhongli, sitting with Ganyu on one of her lunch breaks. A vase of flowers sits between them.
He feels his eyes crinkle, in that sad little way they do when he’s trying extra hard to smile.
His chest feels hollow.
“Doing fine.” Zhongli’s plate chinks, his tea cup settling warmly. His stare is cold, blank. Childe reads the thin line of his lips, normally so full and present.
He remembers one moment, Zhongli beneath him, lips parted. The desire in his eyes, which at this point has been replaced with solid gold.
One night at Wangshu Inn, turned into nothingness.
Even though Childe did everything according to Zhongli’s plan.
“Why are you here?” The voice is hollow, as hollow as the feeling in his chest.
Childe stares at Zhongli, feeling a moment of indignation at this treatment. This isn’t fair.
Doesn’t the dragon care for him at all? Doesn’t the qilin want him here, want to cherish him, want to brush his hair back like that one time he fell asleep on his statue, beside the man’s lap?
Or will he simply walk away again, leaving Childe to wake up in the heat, feeling as if his lungs were being smothered.
Rocks are so dry. No place for a watery being.
Childe stares back blankly, his eyes dead, and shrugs. No point in loving a dead man, anyway.
He knows.
“No reason. Just wanted to say hi.”
“You’ve said it.”
Childe laughs. It’s the response he expected. “So I have. No need to be so cold, old man,” he teases.
Ganyu gasps, though she mostly keeps quiet. Her fist tightening around her tea cup is the only indication of her feelings towards Liyue’s threat.
That’s right.
Childe had almost forgot.
Everyone in Liyue hates him.
He smiles at her, though his eyes don’t focus on hers.
Looking at a gentle being at this moment could bring him to tears, and he won’t have that.
“Relax. I’m not here to hurt you.”
She doesn’t scoff – she’s much too polite for this, but a tiny burst of air escapes her nose before she can stop it.
She looks to her lap, crossing her hands. “Pardon me.”
“No worries. I’ll leave you to it.” Childe smiles, his eyes roving over Zhongli’s hair as he turns, waving goodbye.
He once held those strands between his fingers, and he stares at his hand as he walks over the bridge, away from them.