As The Sun Gazes Upon The Moon [Zhongchili]

Chapter 15 - Revelation

Author's Note: Content warnings for this chatper:

Wild animal death (snake eating mouse)
Intrusive thoughts / Abyss influenced thoughts (Already in the front page tags, I know, but a reminder while we're here)

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Zhongli lies awake that night, the cool sheets doing nothing to stop the thoughts cascading through his mind. Each time he processes one detail, another tumbles down after it, piling up into an indecipherable mess. For the first few hours of his turmoil, Childe's rhythmic footsteps thud from within the living room so relentlessly that it's a wonder the floor has not worn through.

Yet for the past twenty seven minutes, all has been silent.

While the thought that Childe has found rest should be comforting, Zhongli feels more restless than ever; the pillow itches against his head and the mattress doesn't quite meet the natural curve of his body. He twists from side to side, willing the inexplicable wrongness permeating the room to fade and for sleep to finally find him.

The clock on the desk reads one o'clock and Zhongli swings his legs out of bed with a sigh.

Just a quick check. He'll pop into the living room and see Childe sleeping soundly, then he'll be able to put this feeling to rest and claim a few hours of sleep before the morning.

Zhongli opens the door, peering into each shadow cast by the shelves and cabinets lining the hallway. His caution should be unnecessary; as he told Childe only a day prior, no creature is capable of infiltrating this building unless he himself wills it. That is to say, no outside threats can possibly be awaiting him.

Threats from the inside, however...

No, now is not the time for such flights of thought. He is going to check on Childe, who is most certainly sound asleep, and then go back to his own room and rest.

The floor creaks and Zhongli winces. Gingerly he feels his way toward the living room, a single slip of light from the kitchen guiding his way.

The living room door is closed.

Zhongli pushes it open, thanking the heavens that he had the foresight to maintain the hinges such that it moves silently, swinging back to bounce against something soft.

Zhongli braces.

He peers around the corner.

A spare cushion sits behind the door, propped against the wall.

A perfectly natural explanation, as to be expected.

Zhongli turns his attention to the sofa.

One blanket is thrown back across the headrest, while one pillow is slung to the side, but the rest of the bedding—as well as Childe—is gone.

"Childe?" Zhongli whispers into the darkness.

No reply comes.

Zhongli treads forward, peering into every shadowy nook and corner of the room. Geo energy hums in his palms, ready to shield him against any incoming threat.

Not that he shall need it. Childe is not a threat.

As he rounds the sofa, the corner behind the bookcase catches his attention. Within the darkness is a void more matte than the sleekness reflected from the walls, forming a mound approximately the height of a seated person.

Zhongli breathes out in a rush of relief. That explains where the blanket went.

He approaches the mound and crouches beside it. The mound is perfectly silent and completely motionless. Such control over one's state is a remarkable feat, but to think of what Childe must have gone through to necessitate it is not something he wishes to linger upon.