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After a hazardous reconciliation–fit for the unique pair of them—Childe noticed that Zhongli was more open to pressing into Childe’s personal space. From correcting the piss poor form of his chopstick usage (swears he’s gotten better) to gently weaving them in and out of crowds, Mr. Zhongli more or less acted as Childe’s personal heater with how warmth just radiated off in waves. Perhaps he was imagining it, but somehow, Childe could feel the heat of Zhongli’s hand placed gently on his lower back whenever he directed Childe along the streets. It did not smother him like the heavy balm of Liyue’s endless humidity. The warmth Zhongli wrapped him in felt like how the sun feels on your skin after a long swim. Childe was used to long hauls of battles and work without a spot of respite in sight. Then was there Zhongli, the Lord of Geo, blessed by Celestia, offering solace and peace on his lands. His initial mission of chaos and maelstrom is water underneath the bridge as far as Zhongli is concerned. It was initially his fault that Childe washed up on the shores of Liyue in the first place.
“Childe.”
Childe stared back into pools of amber gold. Eyes that shined bright enough to illuminate the dark mountain terrace they found themselves on.
How did I never piece together that he was Rex Lapis, oh Archons.
They decided against their usual stroll in Liyue Harbor and made the trek out of the city limits and up onto a natural terrace that rose above the city. His back faced the city, the sea, and the edge. In all honesty, there was little if anything that could move Childe or his gaze from the funeral consultant standing across from him.
“….Childe, have I offended you somehow? You have not answered my question regarding lunch. Is your silence meant to be indifference? I always value your insight and input into our activities.”
“Uhh…let’s just do the usual. Wanmin?”
Zhongli’s furrowed brow would have been unnoticeable to anyone else other than Childe, out of the sheer amount of time that the two have spent together. He decided against asking another question and brought Childe’s hand to his lips.
A gentle kiss was placed on Childe’s thumb.
“If and when you decide to share your worries with me…”
Another kiss upon his pointer.
“I will readily be here for you…”
Two quick kisses on his middle and pinky.
“However you may need me.”
Then a feather light kiss upon the new band that rested on his ring finger.
Raising his head and facing the now sheepishly silent man, Zhongli led their descent down the slope back into the city. Zhongli snuggly held onto Childe’s one hand while the other hand began to twitch. An acrid taste seeped into his mouth. Whispers to battle, decimate, and maul began to fill his mind. Abyssal flare-ups had settled down the more time Childe had spent with Zhongli but he wasn’t sure there was anything in this known world that would cleanse him. Foul Legacy felt like a special weapon loaned to him and him alone. That didn’t mean that Childe was naive to the fact that the longer he stared into the abyss, the harder it was to pull himself away from that edge. He saw the darkness he carried in the reflection of his eyes daily.
A shadow of blue found nowhere else in Tevyat Zhongli once said.
Childe was used to performing. Being a Harbinger meant having a public image to uphold. Meetings and duties to fulfill under an ever-watchful eye. Battling his way to the top meant that most people would have to be kept at an arm’s length away. The more meaningful something or someone was, the more painful the loss would be. His hands did not know how to be gentle. The scars that lay behind his gloves did not come from acts of affection. He struggled to return the tender touches Zhongli had gifted him with and in moments like this, he worried that he would crush the budding bloom of affection that Zhongli held for him. For a weapon of war, an abyssal abomination like himself to seek comfort and refugee in a former Archon, Childe felt that this relationship would not survive.
As they passed through Feiyun Slope, Childe saw the gazes of merchants, Militeth, and shoppers as they noticed Zhongli and felt their stares linger on him a little longer. The gossiping still had not quieted down post-Osial.
He has a lot of nerve to be showing his face around this city.
Is Mr. Zhongli still with that Fatui scum that tried to flood the harbor?
Mr. Zhongli is holding that criminal hand? Is he under duress?
I bet the Fatui are lining his pockets real well to out-strolling along with that beast.
A swift tug on his hand and Childe finds himself close enough for Zhongli to whisper to him.
“I find it important to remind you, Childe, that such musings and remarks have never bothered me and will not bother me in the future. I recall in the past you mentioned that you also disregarded such chatter but if you begin to feel unwanted, I shall rectify such gossip.”
“A Sneznhayan diplomat without thick skin would have never made this far, Mr. Zhongli. I’m just as unconcerned as you are. What I am concerned about is grabbing a table a Wanmin before the dinner rush kicks in.”
His words come out rushed. He still has a bitter aftertaste lingering in his mouth. The sweat dripping from his hairline is no doubt due to the already-set sun. His pulse threatens to alert everyone around him of the urge for battle bubbling to the surface.
Childe turns to give Zhongli his best placating smile but falters when he sees Zhongli already looking at him, with eyes glowing a little brighter than they should be.
“Childe. I know you and see the masks you wear. Your lust for battle, gravitation to power, and attraction to chaos. Harbinger, older brother, survivor of the abyss. You’ve shared these facets with me and I will not betray your trust a second time. I will not leave you.”
Leave it to Zhongli to make a proclamation like that on their way to dinner.
Instead of voicing a reply, Childe tugs on Zhongli’s hand and leads them back on track to Wanmin’s. They barely manage to snag their usual table and the night goes on with Zhongli’s informative monologue about the bamboo shoot used in tonight’s soup and Childe’s awful form with chopsticks, causing a splatter of pork on his shirt. Before he even has time to grab a napkin, Zhongli, mentioning how ways to best prevent staining, is already dabbing away at the spot.
Childe gazes upon his reconciled associate…partner…friend. He does not worry Zhongli will not betray his trust or leave him. He worries for the day that he has to leave Zhongli.