From One Glance | childe x reader |

5

Regret weighed heavily on your mind as you trudged home, each step feeling like a battle against the invisible phantom of your decisions. The lingering presence of the ginger-haired man following you disappeared the moment you stepped inside, thankfully. But it still didn't manage to calm your uneasiness. 

Within your humble abode, Xiao lay sprawled on the couch, lazily staring at you as you step inside, a constant yet exasperating presence in your life. His pervasive scent of cigarettes filled the air, a minor annoyance compared to the tumult of emotions swirling within you. With a tired sigh, you closed the door behind you.

"...Someone was following you," he stated quietly. You wanted to retort with something sharp, like 'no kidding, Sherlock,' but you held your tongue.

"Don't worry, I'll handle it later." you replied curtly. Afterward, you took a shower, hoping to wash away any remnants of the bloodstains from Childe's previous grasp. Then, you prepared yourself for bed.

The next morning, making your way to the bathroom, you couldn't help but steal a glance at your reflection in the water-filled bathtub. The image that stared back seemed foreign, devoid of the feminine grace you once possessed. "I don't look like a girl anymore," you murmured to yourself, a bittersweet mixture of pride and longing tugging at your heartstrings. Despite the turmoil, a sense of accomplishment tinged your thoughts, if only momentarily.

After cleansing away the filth of the day and wearing your chosen attire, you found yourself drawn once more to Miko's bar, memories both fond and troubling nudging at the corners of your mind. Childe's invitation echoed in your thoughts, you clicked your tongue in annoyance. 

As you navigated the bustling streets, the vibrant energy of the markets enveloped you, a stark contrast to the shadows lurking within your own mind. The chill of the wind cut through your layers, and fluttering piece of paper smacked your face. You snatch the paper irritably from your face and begin to read it.

"Two weeks from now, Prince Tartaglia of the Snezhnayan Royal Family will commence a battle event. The winner shall serve as His Highness's bodyguard, subject to his judgment. Please anticipate it."

The coincidence was too blatant to ignore, sending a shiver down your spine as you clutched the paper tightly in your trembling hands. With a resigned determination, you pressed on towards Miko's bar, the weight of impending decisions bearing down upon you.

As the door swung open, familiar yet unexpected faces greeted you, eliciting a gasp of surprise. "Thoma? Why are you out here? Shouldn't you be inside?" Your arms crossed, concerned. While it wasn't entirely out of character for him to be working 'outside', it had indeed been a while since he ventured beyond the usual confines of the bar. 

"Well, the regular bartender called in sick today, and Miss Miko asked me to step in. But rest assured, if you need anything, I'm at your service," Thoma replied with unwavering certainty, his trust in you visible.

Handing him the paper, you watched as he read it with an intensity like a child engrossed in a captivating tale. "Huh, I wonder why Prince Tartaglia needs a bodyguard though?" 

The sound of a sly laugh, and giggles rippled from the shadows where Miko lurked, her mysterious presence adding an air of intrigue to the conversation. "Hmm, I wonder indeed. Perhaps he's merely bored and seeks a replacement. Or perhaps," she paused, her voice dripping with subtle implications as she takes a glance at you. "he's interested." The way she emphasized the word 'interested' sent a shiver down your spine.