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    Summary

    Zhongli found himself aching for a confrontation that would never come. He craved Childe's fury, the righteous anger, the venomous words, even the sting of a slap across his face.

    To Zhongli, a slap wouldn't be an assault, it would be a hand cradling his cheek with too much force, a tangible connection that proved Childe was still there, still capable of feeling anything at all. He could endure the pain, he would welcome it, so long as the mark left behind bore the imprint of Childe's hand.

    Or, Zhongli's osmanthus wine tastes the same as he remember but where are those who share the memory?

    Series
    Language:
    English
    Words:
    2,650
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
    5
    Kudos:
    41
    Bookmarks:
    1
    Hits:
    365