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With a chicken-mushroom skewer from Wanmin Restaurant in one hand, Childe sealed his latest intelligence report into its envelope with the other. He pressed his fingers back against the desk, stretching his palm out against it; the damn thing had taken the entire morning to write and his hand had been cramping since the second hour.
Technically, it was his fault for leaving writing it until the day he was due to meet the Fatui’s Mondstadt courier, whom he was to hand the report to, but what could he say? Those treasure hoarder camps didn’t clear themselves out and that was a far more entertaining task.
A knock sounded at his door accompanied by Ekaterina’s voice, “Sir?”
“Come in! I’ve just finished writing–” Childe looked toward the door, and there he was. That man. Or rather, not a man at all – an adeptus, an archon, a whatever-he-was. Hands planted on the desk, Childe stood. “Uh, Katya, what’s he doing here?”
Ekaterina looked between Childe and the uninvited guest, blinking as she stuttered through her sentence, “Uhm, my apologies, sir. He said that he has an appointment. With you.”
“Did he now?” Childe eased himself back into his chair. “In that case he’d better come in. Please, don’t be shy, take a seat… Zhongli xiansheng.”
Zhongli was not the person Childe wished to see. Or rather, he was exactly the person Childe wanted to see, which was the precise problem. Ever since the day Osial rose from the waves he’d been stuck in a limbo that tinted his days grey, caught between wishing that everything could go back to the way it was, and knowing that it never could, that their friendship, and in turn, Childe, had meant nothing to Zhongli.
Zhongli nodded, placing himself neatly into the chair opposite him.
Childe looked past him to speak to Ekaterina. “Thanks, Katya, that’ll be all.”
“I apologise once again, I didn’t know–”
“Really, don’t worry about it. Our guest here is well rehearsed in the art of deception.” Childe flashed a forced smile at Zhongli.
“In that case then, sir…” Ekaterina left the room with a bow.
“Now–” Childe leant back in his chair, crossing his leg over his knee in attempt to appear unruffled by the impromptu meeting “–What could the great Zhongli xiansheng, or should I say, the great Rex Lapis, want with little old me, hmm?”
While he maintained a veneer of calm, Childe’s mind was racing.
After the rising of Osial and fall of the Jade Chamber, not a word had been spoken between them. Childe had left Northland Bank that day, knowing that their friendship as he’d come to know it was over.
It didn’t bother him; that was how everyone who came into contact with him left, some as literal ghosts, sleeping deep in their graves, others fading from his life like wisps as soon as they got close enough to realise who he truly was.
Then there was Zhongli, who’d known all along, making sure he used Childe to his full utility before severing their relationship himself. Indeed, Zhongli was a smart man and Childe couldn’t help but respect his audacity.
Yet today, Zhongli held no malice in his eyes as he sat across from Childe, folding his arms on the desk.
“I would like to invite you to a meal,” he said simply.
Interesting.
“You know, you’re supposed to wine and dine someone before you set them up. You’re not going to fool me into forgetting that you’re Morax, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“I…” Zhongli trailed off with a sigh. “I have no intentions of fooling you into anything, Childe. I simply wish to explain the events of a few weeks ago, by way of apology for my involving you in them. While I cannot, as per the terms of my contract with your Tsaritsa, explain everything, I would like to tell you as much as I am able.”
Childe pulled the last piece of chicken from his skewer, throwing the stick into the bin and regarding Zhongli as he chewed. An apology? Now there was a novelty. Usually he was on the giving end, rather than on the receiving end, of such things.
Admittedly, he was usually the one at fault.
“It shall be on the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor’s tab,” clarified Zhongli.
Childe snorted. The old man was the same as ever, but he couldn’t deny the way his heart lifted with the knowledge that Zhongli wasn’t merely trying to extract yet another free meal from him.
“If you’ve thought about it enough to think about who’s tab it should be on, maybe you could remember to bring your own mora for once?”
Zhongli shook his head. “It is better to be, ahem… realistic, when considering such things.”
The hue of Zhongli’s cheeks shifted toward a reddish pink and if Childe hadn’t known the man to be so shameless, he would’ve thought that Zhongli held some embarassment at his financial incompetencies.
Shifting his chair toward the desk, Childe propped his hand on his elbow, closing the distance between them. Only a desk’s width apart, that familiar scent of Zhongli, earthy yet floral, caught him in a captivating wave of nostalgia that found him longing for days since passed and the peace found in the company that had been.
He sighed, relenting. “If you really want to apologise, I’d rather take a duel.”
“There shall be no such thing,” came the simple response, “If you insist upon it, I shall consider my apology refused.”
“Fine, fine, dinner it is then.”
A small smile formed on Zhongli’s lips. “I am glad you accept. When would be a suitable time for you?"
“Well, I’m busy with bank business today and tomorrow, so how about we say in two days’ time?”
“Perfect.” Zhongli stood to leave. “In that case, I shall keep you no longer. See you soon, Childe.”
“See you soon, xiansheng.”
Childe watched Zhongli leave his office and, for the briefest moment, he was back to before, when “see you soon” and “until next time” were commonplace in their conversations, when smiles between them were frequent and natural, and when Childe had thought that perhaps, just maybe, the conversation wasn’t the only reason Zhongli valued his company.
The sun dipped below the distant peaks of Jueyun Karst as Childe made his way through the abandoned square of Mingyun Village, where ghosts clung to the shadows, following his movements. Not that he minded – If a ghost wanted to fight him, he’d gladly take them up on it.
The report successfully delivered to his contact in Mondstadt, Childe was unhurried, heading toward the scenic route around the clifftops, rather than opting for the direct path through the village that branched off to his right.
The wooden walkway came into sight ahead, thick vines draping themselves across the path to cover the gaps in the planks, hanging from the edge like witches’ fingers. A group of hilichurls sat in the centre – three regular sized grunts, one dendro samachurl, and one rock shieldwall mitachurl – their backs to him and muttering their strange words to each other.
Childe readied his blades. So he would get to fight today – what a treat!
In a jettison of hydro, he flashed into the middle of the mob, sending forth a torrent which knocked the smaller hilichurls back, and forced the mitachurl to raise its shield.
Darting around it, he lunged for the regular hilichurls first, plunging a dagger into the nearest one and revelling at the riptide that burst from within it, an explosion of hydro, blood and tissue that richoched into the remaining two, sending them down too.
Of the two remaining enemies, Childe turned his attention to the samachurl first, hurtling across the planks toward it.
A few metres away from the creature, something grabbed his ankle, rooting him to the spot. The samachurl cackled and Childe looked down to find his foot ensnared, vines snaking around it.
No problem, he only had to kill the samachurl and that would deal with that.
He cast off his blades and drew his bow, notching an arrow aimed straight for the samachurl’s mask. Loosing the arrow, it sailed through the air, his aim true.
The mitachurl lumbered in front, and the arrow deflected from its shield with a sad ping. The creature grunted and started toward him, each footstep deliberate and slow. There was no way his arrows could penetrate the thick shield, so Childe aimed for the mitachurl’s feet, sending a few arrows in its direction. However, his efforts were to no avail; the shield was tall and provided cover from head to toe.
As it approached arm’s reach, Childe switched back to his blades, swiping hopelessly in front of him while frantically tugging his foot to free it from its prison. If he could just get free, he would be at that mitachurl’s neck, dagger sinking into the soft flesh of the nape.
But it was too late.
The mitachurl was in his face, sweeping its shield back and smashing it into Childe’s body.
He heard it before he felt it.
There was a sharp snap that reverberated from the base of his leg as the force sent his body hurtling back, the vines tearing under the tension as Childe was launched over the edge of the railing.
The wind whistled in his ears, the world tumbling in a blur of green and grey before he slammed onto the ground below. He gasped for breath as the air was knocked from his lungs and he bounced. Closing his eyes, he braced himself as his body ragdolled through the air.
Whistling. A splash. Wet. Cold.
The creeping sense of dread told him something was wrong before he opened his eyes. He’d landed in a body of water, seeping into his clothes with a creeping chill, and it took only a brief glance at his leg to know that, even under his boot, it wasn’t meant to bend that way. He shifted and pain radiated from it in a nausea inducing pulse.
He adjusted his position to stand on his good leg, but the pain stabbed anew and the world span, and he collapsed back to the ground. The throbbing in his head only exacerbated his situation, a pounding hammer striking his skull behind his eyes and the light from the sunset burned, harsh and bright as it jammed itself into his pupils.
This was bad.
The hilichurls hadn’t followed him down the mountain, which was good, but he was stuck in a pond, unable to stand, with his brain not giving him any tangible instruction other than sleep.
No sleeping. Not in water. Dangerous.
Then where?
Squinting through half-shut eyelids, he took in his surroundings. He was in the middle of nowhere and wasn’t going anywhere fast, certainly not before nightfall.
Shelter. He needed somewhere, just for the night, just so he could sleep, just until…
Just until what? With his leg as useless as it was, he wasn’t sure.
But the priority now was to survive; he could think about later when it came.
A gleam of light caught in the darkness of the cliff. A cave, barely even that. But it would have to do. Rolling onto his front, he dragged himself across the ground, the stone slicing at his arms and his leg sending a ricocheting pain throughout his body at each jostling movement.
His leg hurt. His head hurt. Everything hurt so badly.
Panting and eyes blurry, he scraped himself up the shoreline and into the cave, heaving himself into a sitting position at the back wall. Even without moving it, the pain in his leg was unrelenting as it swelled within his boot, pressing tight against the rim. He moved to test if removing the boot was an option, but his hands shook and he didn’t have to go further to know it would be fruitless.
His head lolled back to rest on the wall and he closed his eyes.
This was really bad.
He wasn’t getting home alone, but no-one knew he was here; his movements were rarely revealed to any of his subordinates for security reasons. They wouldn’t be coming to get him.
Then what would become of him?
This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was supposed to deliver the report, get back to Liyue, write a letter of confirmation to Her Majesty, then enjoy a nice dinner with Zhongli tomorrow evening.
Zhongli.
With all his adeptal powers, surely he’d be able to find him, but would he even realise Childe was missing? Would he care and come looking, or would he shrug off Childe’s absence as a mere inconvenience?
Childe dragged his eyes open, hoping that when he looked toward the entrance of the cave there would be a pair of golden eyes greeting him, a soothing voice to tell him that he was safe, that he’d come to take him home.
But there was nothing apart from lifeless grey stone.
Slumping back with his eyes slipping closed once again, Childe barely registered the solid rock beneath him. Instead, a swaying weightlessness had taken over, lulling him toward unconsciousness. He didn’t resist. Anything that could take away the pain. Anything, just for a short moment of relief.
He slipped away into the darkness.
Zhongli strode toward Northland Bank. He’d arranged to meet Childe for dinner, but it was now thirty minutes past their appointed time and Childe hadn’t shown. Were it another acquaintance this would’ve been no cause for concern, but Childe was never more than five minutes late without sending a message in advance.
In fact, Zhongli had neither seen nor heard from Childe since their last meeting.
Something wrong sat in the air, and he was going to find out what it was.
Without pause he heaved the door open and made directly for the reception desk. The young lady standing there – Ekaterina, he’d heard her called by her colleagues – looked up, pen in hand and eyes widening in recognition behind her mask.
“Ah, Consultant Zhongli. Back so soon?”
Zhongli leant both hands on the counter, breathing heavily. “Miss Ekaterina, have you seen Harbinger Tartaglia?”
“I– No, why?”
So Childe hadn’t been at the bank either.
Something cold and unsettling gripped at him, but he forced himself to remain calm. “We were due to meet this evening and he has not yet arrived. I thought perhaps he was working late.”
“No, he–” Ekaterina peered around the room before gesturing for Zhongli to join her behind the counter. “A word, if I may.”
Zhongli slipped round the side and Ekaterina opened the staff door, taking him by the sleeve and pulling him to the back of the room.
“Harbinger Tartaglia hasn’t been seen since he left yesterday afternoon. Our scouts haven’t been able to locate him.” She swallowed and looked around once again. “I’m not supposed to tell outsiders this information, but as you are his close associate and a Vision holder… well, there are certain gifts that Delusions do not bestow, if you catch my meaning.”
“Indeed I do.”
Elemental sight: the distinguishing feature between Visions and The Tsaritsa’s Delusions. It was the result of the natural synchronicity between the Vision holder and their respective element, something innate that all the false power of a Delusion was unable to bestow. While Zhongli’s power didn’t originate from the mock Vision he carried, its function was similar in nature, although in a magnitude far more potent.
“If you are able to find him… it’s not for someone of my rank to say, but I worry for the boy. Actually, please don’t tell anyone I said that, I shouldn’t be fretting over our Lord Harbinger like he’s some incapable schoolchild, but–”
“It’s alright.” Zhongli placed a hand on Ekaterina’s arm. “I share your sentiment and can guarantee that he will come home safely.”
With a deep breath, she nodded. “Thank-you, I trust you to bring him home.”
A pack of emergency supplies fastened on his back, Zhongli stood on a clifftop above Mingyun Village. Childe was here – the traces of hydro energy Zhongli followed carried the distinctive scent of Childe that he would recognise anywhere.
The moon sat high in the sky – most mortals would’ve taken several hours to arrive from Liyue, not setting foot in the area until the morning sun drew streaked shadows through the grass, but Zhongli had taken certain liberties in his method of travel, a small advantage of his adeptal origins.
He scanned the area, catching the trail heading through the trio of houses that marked the entrance to the village. In times since passed, Madam Jiang would’ve emerged from her house to place a glaze lily in the hair of many a weary traveller, offering them a cool drink and a friendly home in which to shelter from the midday sun. However, as with too many of Zhongli’s fondest memories, she too was long gone.
Today there was no time to ponder on such thoughts, for another who featured in memories just as fond lingered here, someone whom he would create many more memories with, should fate allow.
A dense coalescence of energy swirled on the nearby bridge as Zhongli approached, stepping over the leftover bones and cabbage cores that were strewn across it.
Hilichurls had been here. Had Childe been fighting them? If so, why did the trail stop so abruptly? The traces didn’t extend up the mountain, nor along the trail. If neither of those, then…
A flicker of blue caught Zhongli’s eye from the ground below and he froze, a cold tingling in his fingertips.
No, Childe had finished off his enemies and then jumped, that was what had happened. Childe was fine, he was simply… where was he?
Zhongli picked his way down the rocks, jumping down the final few metres and approaching the side of the ledge. The trail continued, straight into the pond below and his heart sank.
It was doubtful that Childe would’ve decided on an impromptu paddle to finish his mission. There was no denying the facts – Childe had fallen.
Scrabbling down, he called out, surprised at the audible fear in his own voice, “Childe? Childe? Are you here? Can you hear me?”
Then he heard it. A sound that was more a whimper than a shout.
“Zhongli?”
Both relief and terror shook through him as he stumbled toward the direction Childe called him from – relief that Childe was there, that Childe was alive, and terror at the fragility in his voice, shaking and hoarse.
Zhongli ducked into the cave in the mountainside, and there Childe was: propped against the wall, eyes barely open and with his leg stuck at an angle that it certainly shouldn’t have been. Water dripped from the ceiling to pool in a corner, the musky scent of damp permeating the place and Zhongli wrinkled his nose as he crossed the chamber.
“Zhongli? You’re here, huh? I heard your voice before, but…you’re really here this time.” Childe attempted to push himself upright on shaking arms, before they gave way underneath him and he slumped back to his original position. His skin was tight and dull against his features and his sodden hair clung to his head, a deep red streak running down the side.
“I am indeed here. Easy now.” Crouching down, Zhongli pushed the blood-encrusted hair back from Childe’s face, allowing his hand to linger there when Childe leaned into it.
“Been taking it easy for a few days now, xiansheng.” Childe gave him a weak, lopsided smile. “Living it up in my little cave here. You took your time getting here though, thought you might not come.”
Zhongli gritted his teeth, fighting against the image that popped into his mind, an image of Childe abandoned and alone, left there to slowly fade away. Would he have been, had Zhongli not made the dinner plans that alerted him to Childe’s absence?
A dark foreboding chipped away at him from within.
“Of course I would come, you think I would simply leave you when I realised that you were missing?”
“Could’ve been a bit quicker about it. Room service in here’s been terrible.” A forced laugh between gritted teeth.
It wasn’t amusing. It wasn’t amusing at all.
“I am sorry,” said Zhongli.
“Ha, don’t take it so seriously, I–”
“For everything.”
Childe looked at him, eyes scanning Zhongli’s face, as though hoping to draw out any thread of deception that might still be ravelled within his words. But for the first time since they’d met, there were no falsities hidden between them, and there was nothing for Childe to find.
Raising a hand to cover Zhongli’s, Childe nodded. “Well then, I’ll forgive you this time – I guess this makes it even, huh?”
Zhongli barely heard the second half of the sentence. As soon as the words “I’ll forgive you” left Childe’s mouth, he gently wrapped his other arm around Childe’s middle, pulling in close to embrace him.
It was not the proper order of operations in such a situation. On any other day, his first focus should’ve been on attending to Childe’s condition. Yet, with all that had passed between them, he couldn’t help but cave to the tremor in his heart that needed nothing other than to have Childe close, to hear his breath in his ear, to know that he was here, alive, and would be okay.
Childe’s body stiffened, and for a moment Zhongli was concerned that he’d jostled another injury, but then he relaxed and returned the gesture, locking his arms round Zhongli’s back and clinging tight to his coat. He smelt of sweat and blood and damp, but for Zhongli, there was no more welcome scent.
“I’ve missed you, Childe,” he said, “my days have been rather lonely without your company.”
A pause, then a reply, mumbled into the crook of Zhongli’s neck.
“Same.”
Childe’s form shivered beneath Zhongli’s hands, and he rubbed Childe’s back, as cold as the stone surrounding them. When he pulled away, his palm was damp, droplets thick on his fingertips. Replacing his hand to Childe’s jacket, he squeezed the fabric, water dripping through his fingers.
“You’re soaked through.”
“Happens when you fall in a pond. Water can be quite wet, y’know.”
“This is no good.” Zhongli pulled back, sliding his emergency pack to the floor and easing Childe back to lean against the wall. “I’ve packed a blanket, so take off your jacket and shirt.”
Childe pulled a face but complied, allowing Zhongli to peel his soaked clothes from his body, tossing them aside before pulling out the blanket and swaddling him in it. Despite the thick wool, still Childe shivered, and Zhongli tenderly rubbed his arms, repeating the motion until enough heat was generated for Childe’s body to still.
“Is that better?”
“Yeah, thanks, much–” Childe broke off, voice clipped and hoarse, swallowing and sucking his cheeks as though trying to draw moisture to his mouth.
Zhongli reached toward Childe’s discarded jacket. “Where did you put your–”
“Ran out on the way here.”
Turning back to him, Zhongli frowned. “You haven’t drunk for two days?”
“There was moisture on the wall, funnelled it with my Vision, kept me going.”
“Why did you not mention this earlier?” He reached within the pocket of his coat, pulling out his own water flask. “Come, allow me– no, Childe, keep your arms inside that blanket.”
Childe made a disgruntled noise but complied as Zhongli unscrewed the cap and held the flask to Childe’s mouth. He tilted it just enough that a steady stream of water flowed out for Childe to sip at, which he continued to do until the final drop seeped from the opening, and Childe lapped it up with a satisfied sigh.
“There,” said Zhongli, recapping and stowing the flask, “that should keep you satiated until we return home.”
“Great, let’s get going then.” Childe shifted as though he was about to stand, but Zhongli pushed him back with a hand to his shoulder.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting up of course. I’ll need to lean on you, but–”
“You are not hopping home.” Increasing the pressure, Zhongli shook his head. This boy was impossible. Was he truly ignorant of the pain the incessant jostling would cause his injury, or did he simply not care? Not to mention the potential damage…
“Then how do you suggest I get home, huh?” Under the blanket, the outline of Childe’s arms indicated they were folded.
Stubborn.
“I shall carry you,” said Zhongli.
“You can’t do that!”
Far too stubborn.
“And why not?”
Childe gave an exaggerated sigh, as though Zhongli was the one being impossible. “I’m a Harbinger, xiansheng. I’ve walked off far worse and unless I’m nearly dead or something, I really don’t want to be seen entering Liyue being carried. It’s kinda embarrassing.”
“In that case, at least allow me to take you the majority of the way. If it’s your reputation which bothers you so, I can put you down before we enter the city.”
“But–”
“Please. For my peace of mind, Childe.”
Childe studied him with wary eyes, and Zhongli placed a hand on his arm. If Childe were to refuse, he would have to assist him back to Liyue, watching as he tried to hide the agony the movement would surely incite. The thought of Childe’s face, pale and teeth gritting against the pain, ground at his heart.
He was far too soft when it came to this man.
Blowing air from his cheeks, Childe relented. “Fine, but you’ll put me down when I say to.”
“Of course.”
“Alright then.”
Zhongli packed away Childe’s clothes, fastening his pack to his back. He squatted by Childe’s damaged leg, applying a makeshift geo construct to splint it, before shifting to loop one arm under his shoulders and the other under his knees.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“Ready as ever,” said Childe with a brave face.
“Tell me if I cause you any pain and we can stop.”
“It’s fine, let’s just get going.”
Zhongli eased him up, offering a soothing word when Childe’s face clenched at the moment his leg lifted from the ground. As expected of a mortal vessel, the weight was no trouble for Zhongli to carry and he stepped out of the cave, crossing the pond and starting back along the path. The sky to the east glowed a hazy yellow, long shadows crossing the trail.
Childe’s weight shifted in his arms and Zhongli looked down at him. “Are you comfortable?”
Childe’s eyes hung half closed and he slowly shifted his gaze to meet Zhongli’s. “Huh? Yeah, I’m fine, it’s nice… warm.”
“Warm, hmm?”
“Ok that sounded weird, don’t think anything of it, okay? I just meant the cave was cold and–” He broke off with a yawn.
“Then I won’t. But please, rest.”
As they walked, Zhongli couldn’t help but reassure himself, frequently checking on Childe’s state, but he needn’t have worried. Those half closed eyes soon closed fully, his head tilting to rest in the crook of Zhongli’s arm. Seeing Childe so at ease in his presence, Zhongli couldn’t help but hold him a little closer, a little safer, rubbing his thumb against Childe’s shoulder. Bold as Childe was, he was still but a mortal, and mortals were fragile things that deserved protection.
Perhaps this one above most others.
Shortcutting through Yaoguang Shoal, he carried his precious cargo back to Liyue Harbor, rounding the corner which brought his beloved city into sight around mid-morning.
Childe showed no sign of stirring, so Zhongli leaned forward, speaking quietly into his ear, “Childe, we are here.”
One eye flickered lazily open. “Mhm, huh?”
“We have arrived at Liyue Harbor. You wished to walk.”
“Mmm, nah.” The half-asleep Childe nodded his head back into Zhongli’s arm. “Comfy here…” A soft snore bubbled through his nose, one hand reaching through the blanket to grasp Zhongli’s coat.
Zhongli held Childe tighter to his chest, his heart lightening with the trust that Childe placed in him, and continued down the road.
Childe slept the entire way to Bubu Pharmacy, where Zhongli had left him in Baizhu’s care before returning to the waiting room to fret. It was a simple injury, a simple break to be set, but still his nerves tremored, unable to resist glancing at the door every five minutes for the moment when Baizhu would emerge, to tell him that Childe would be alright.
After far too long, Baizhu emerged, pulling the door to the inpatient room closed behind him. Zhongli rose from his seat, waiting for Baizhu to come forth with his prognosis.
Baizhu tapped a finger on his clipboard.
“My my, you’ve been patient, haven’t you? Waiting here all this time, goodness me.” He regarded Zhongli with a look of mild entertainment, as though observing a vaguely amusing side-show at a festival. “Now, would you like the good news, or the bad news?”
Bad news? Zhongli swallowed and held himself steady.
“I am certain that both are of equal importance, so I should like to hear everything there is to know about his condition.”
“Well, I’ll start with the good news. He’ll be fine. So long as he rests his injury for the next four to six weeks, of course. It was a clean break and should heal nicely, so long as he returns here weekly for healing, courtesy of myself, to accelerate the process.”
Zhongli let out a breath, tension releasing from his shoulders.
“I see. And the bad news?”
“I have given him some herbs to numb the pain. Unfortunately, they also appear to have numbed his manners in the process. He is currently, in one word, insufferable.”
Changsheng hissed from her spot on Baizhu’s shoulder, “Nasty boy called Changsheng a ‘funny pet’ and a ‘silly snake thing’. So very insulting.”
“Yes, I know, darling,” cooed Baizhu, “And he had the nerve to insult my relationship with dear Qiqi. He called me an ‘abuser of child labour’, of all things.”
Zhongli pressed a hand to his mouth to suppress the laugh that threatened to escape, composing himself enough to say, “I shall bear that in mind. May I see him now?”
“By all means.” Baizhu gestured to the door. “But please do not excite the patient. He needs rest.”
“Of course, my gratitude is with you, doctor.”
Zhongli entered Childe’s room, the air pungent with the scent of medicines and herbal balms, and there he was, lying on the bed with his leg in a cast, wearing a goofy grin and watching Zhongli with unfocused eyes. His uniform was set aside on a nearby stool, replaced instead by a loose set of nightclothes.
“Zhongli. Heeeeey. Where’d you go? I missed you.” Each sound slurred into the next and Childe punctuated the end of his sentence with a dramatic pout as he shifted up on one arm to greet Zhongli.
Zhongli paused, unused to Childe being so forthcoming with his affections. It would seem the herbs had brought out the honesty in him, and apparently Childe wasn’t particularly fond of a certain green-haired doctor.
How interesting.
“I was waiting outside, as per Doctor Baizhu’s orders.” Hiding his amusement, Zhongli crossed the room and perched on the bed next to Childe. The colour had returned to his face and, despite the dark bags underneath them, his eyes were lively and content – quite the opposite picture of the Childe who had laid in the cave, pallid and barely holding onto consciousness.
It was quite wondrous, what just a little care could do for a person.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Like the moon in the sky, Zhongli, like the moon in the sky.”
For once, Zhongli had no clue regarding the meaning behind the metaphor, but he suspected that neither did Childe. However, Childe’s smile stretched wide across his face, and Zhongli took it to mean that he wasn’t presently feeling any pain.
“In that case, I am pleased to see you are recovering well.
“Better now you’re here.”
While the knowledge that Childe was doing well was a balm to his nerves, his heart could not help but tremble at those words. Reaching out, he placed a hand on Childe’s shoulder.
“And I shall stay as long as you wish me to.”
“Forever?” asked Childe, without missing a beat.
That was the last thing Zhongli had expected to hear from Childe’s lips, but he couldn’t deny that he would like to hear it again and again. While their tentative reunion in the cave had given him hope that they might be able to rebuild upon their previous foundations, the idea that Childe might’ve considered a deeper connotation to their relationship was a welcome surprise.
But now was not the time to ponder on such things. Of first importance was Childe’s full recovery. Then and only then, once both their minds were sober, would they explore that angle.
However, when he looked at those soulful eyes that stared up at him so earnestly, he couldn’t deny Childe’s request entirely.
“How about we talk about that later? But for now, I shall stay as long as you wish.”
“Mmm… good,” mumbled Childe, slumping onto his back, eyelids fluttering open and closed.
It had been a long few days for him, no doubt, and Childe deserved his rest, so Zhongli shifted to stand and fetch one of the chairs scattered in the far corner. However, a hand reached up and caught the sleeve of his coat.
“Stay,” said Childe, and Zhongli was powerless to resist.
Shifting closer to sit against Childe, he allowed himself a small indulgence and placed a hand on Childe’s cheek. Even through his gloves, there was a healthy warmth that radiated from Childe’s skin, and it was no small relief to see that he no longer trembled and shook as he’d laid chilled and damp in that dank cave.
Childe leaned into it, shifting from his pillow to place his head in Zhongli’s lap.
“Ah, hello, Childe.”
“Warm,” was the response Zhongli received before Childe’s eyes flitted shut, his fist still clamped to Zhongli’s sleeve, “goodnight.”
“Sleep well,” replied Zhongli, running his fingers through Childe’s hair and smiling as he began to snore softly, lips parted in his sleep.
Perhaps when he woke Childe would take it all back, pretending to not remember anything, or saying that the words he’d spoken were nothing but nonsense. However, for now, Zhongli pulled off his gloves, so as to better feel those soft, ginger locks he teased in his fingers, content to relish in the trust Childe placed in him as he slept on his lap.
He’d nearly ruined their relationship once before and now, given this precious second chance, he would cherish Childe in the way that he deserved to be. Bringing his arm to wrap around Childe’s body, Zhongli found his hand, tracing over the calloused fingertips before taking it in his own.
In his sleep, Childe tightened his grip around Zhongli’s hand, tucking his body in closer against Zhongli’s legs. Zhongli paused running his fingers through Childe’s hair to gently stroke against his cheek, warm and alive, and, in that moment, he knew – they would be okay.