"You've scouted the perimeter?"
"Yes."
"And you've taken out all the rebel camps?"
"Yes."
"Good. My turn. The rebels have recently set up a large base not far from here. Normally I'd just send Skirmishers, but apparently this case is a bit trickier."
"Trickier how?" Childe crossed his arms over his chest and wondered what could possibly pose a challenge to La Signora.
"The base is loaded with over a hundred Vision and Delusion wielders, and their leader is there."
Childe raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"
"Yes. Of course, I could take them all on my own," she added. "But I suppose I'll let you tag along in case things get...complicated."
"Cool. When do we leave?"
"Tomorrow, at midnight. We'll be done before dawn breaks."
"Got it."
Thus, the Harbingers went their separate ways, with the promise of battle ahead of them. The sun was just about to set on Morepesok, and Childe was more than ready for dinner. He had, indeed, been finding and taking out rebel camps, under the pretext of his job. No one, including Lumine, knew what he was up to, and he fully intended to keep it that way. Cold, hungry, but in a decent mood, Childe strolled back to the path.
* * *
The air was always crisp and fresh where Kostya sat upon the lake. He had set up a small station for himself, with a chair, a fishing rod, and a bag to hold his catch. These were the only times he could think; these long hours of waiting for fish to bite allowed him to dive into the depths of his consciousness. He became so lost in his daze that he never noticed the rosy streaks as they started tinting the clouds with their vibrant hues.
It wasn't until the young woman arrived when Kostya snapped out of his trance. He expected Tonia, but instead, that curious blonde traveler stood by the edge of the lake, afraid to step on the ice. "Natalia told me to come get you," she said.
"Ah, yes, of course." The man sent her a warm smile before he stood and started to pack away his things."
"Need any help with that?" offered Lumine.
"Oh, no, don't worry. I'm quite alright." Kostya smiled again at the girl's willingness to help. He had noticed her kindness before, her unwavering dedication to the people around her, and he was slightly flattered to be a recipient of this kindness. He wondered how Ajax had managed to recruit her.
Kostya folded up the chair, put away his fishing rod, and swung his bag over his shoulder. "Let's go." When she didn't move, however, he detected that there were things she wanted to say. He peered at her sympathetically. "What's the matter, my child?"
Her expression changed at his words, conveying a level of anxiousness. "I...I want to talk to you."
"Oh, well of course. Come, sit down." He sat down by the edge of the lake and offered her a spot next to him, which Lumine took unquestioningly. "Alright. Now, what is it?"
"Ajax." Her voice had been reborn with a new sense of conviction. "I want to know about Ajax."
* * *
Ever since that morning by the lake, Childe could not stop recounting the conversation over and over in his head. Back in Liyue, he had determined that his problem lay in the way he communicated his thoughts; regardless of his intentions, he always managed to twist them in speech, to spout words that he didn't mean and omit the words that he did. There, on that morning, sitting with that same girl by that beautiful lake, he tried to say what he meant for a change: that he was concerned for her, that he understood her, that he wanted to help her.
Instead he pinned her to a tree and forced her to talk.
Why can't I just say what I mean? It seemed so easy in theory, but in practice, his mouth was always far ahead of his brain. Although he had eventually managed to coax an answer out of Lumine—although she had, for a moment, seemed to trust him—guilt still weighed heavily on his shoulders, guilt that he had done the wrong thing yet again. Because when he looked at her that day, the girl he had pinned to a tree, the girl he so desperately wanted to be close to, there was no mistaking that look in her eyes. She's afraid of me.
Childe was known to inflict fear. That was not new to him. He had often laughed in the faces of his victims, at the amusing looks of terror they would display moments before he struck his final blow. But Lumine had never been afraid. She was brave, confident, and resilient, and her bravery never faltered, not once. That was why she made such an entertaining opponent, why their fights exhilarated him beyond comprehension. But in the end, it wasn't by fighting that he managed to draw out the fear from her soul. She wasn't hurt, she wasn't in pain, she wasn't facing the threat of death. She was trapped. Trapped in close proximity with him. And that was when she finally became afraid. When he was close enough to touch her. When he was close enough to kiss her.
I could have kissed her...
But he wouldn't have. Such actions should be reserved for moments when they are due, when he could have kissed her knowing that she trusted him with her care. For that, he would need less moments of violence and more of tenderness. Less brutality, more subtlety. He needed the wind on the beach as she passed her fingers over the surface of a starconch. He needed the sound of her steady breathing as she slept while the world zipped by the windows. He needed the silent sympathy she displayed when she shifted the subject away from his father. For a moment, even after he had filled her with fear, she was kind to him.
I want you to trust me.
Childe came to a sudden halt. He heard voices in the distance. He continued along the path until he came to the lake, where two people were sitting together on the banks. It was his father, and beside him, Lumine, chatting by the lake like old friends. Childe wasn't surprised; Lumine could get along with anyone. He was about to jump out of the trees and startle them with his presence before his ears picked up a word: "...Ajax..."
Are they talking about me?
Childe, with feet as stealthy as a fox, came as close as he could without being detected and hid behind a tree. He could hear them clearly now, his father's voice, tinged with fond nostalgia:
"...We used to come here, you know. All the time. I didn't think such an energetic boy would be interested in a long and patient activity like ice fishing, but I showed him once and ever since he would beg me to go again. I think he just wanted to hear more of my stories."
Lumine giggled, the sound of it twinkling like wind chimes in the breeze. "That's so cute," she said. Childe turned beet red. Did she just call me cute?
"Yes, he was a cutie. I could show you pictures sometime."
Dad!
"You have pictures?"
No he doesn't! Don't listen to him, Lumine! There are no pictures! Totally not!
"Of course. We keep pictures of all our children, from all the way when they were babies."
No! No! Absolutely not! You are NOT showing her baby pictures. Period!
"Oh, I've got to see those. I can just see the look on his face if he catches me."
I'm standing right here.
"Indeed. I'll show you sometime, perhaps when we get back."
Childe swallowed a sigh.
"Mr. Konstantin..."
"Please, just call me Kostya."
"Yes. Right. Um...there's something I just don't understand."
Where is she going with this? For a reason he could not place, Childe's stomach began turning in knots.
"Oh? What is it, my child?"
She hesitated for a long while, obviously nervous. "Well..." She paused again, and Childe could have sworn he heard her take a deep breath. "...what happened between you two?"
Childe plummeted into a hole. She had asked the very question he had hoped she never would. He could imagine all the things his father would say, all the reasons for their rift—perhaps he would even share that fateful incident all those years ago...
The man released a long, deep sigh. "All these years of trying to convince myself that I made the right choice, and I still can't seem to accept it." He paused, as if the memories were too painful to bear. "I knew it had to be done, but...it hurt. It hurt to send him away like that, and at such a young age, too."
"I'm sorry...send him where?"
To the Fatui.
"To the Fatui." Judging by the direction of their conversation, Childe dared to hope that his father would exclude the reason why he sent him away in the first place. Unfortunately, the single comforting thought was not enough to ease his troubled mind. "I loved him," his father said suddenly. "I loved him so much. More than anything in the world." Childe's eyes went wide, his throat went dry, his chest started to ache. "Well, besides for his mother and his siblings, of course," added the man. "They are all precious to me, every single one of them, and Ajax was no exception. I wanted to keep loving him, I really did...until he became something that I could no longer bear to love. I lost him, Lumine. I lost him forever. And he's never coming back."
What...what does that mean?
"But...he's still here."
Yeah. I'm still here, Dad. I'm right here.
"That's what I thought, too. I can't tell you how relieved I was when Natasha and the girls brought him home after three days of being out there in the snow. But what came back that day...that thing...that wasn't him."
Childe could hear the pain in his voice, but he couldn't quite sympathize—the sudden pang in his chest upon hearing his father's words was too potent to allow forgiveness. Had he really changed so much that he was now considered a "thing?"
"...What do you mean?" Lumine spoke for him.
"He was different. The boy who was once sweet, timid but curious, had turned arrogant, volatile, destructive. He thirsted for action, he thirsted for blood, and nothing here could quench him. He was a threat, Lumine. A threat to the village, a threat to my family. And I must protect my family at all costs...even if it means making difficult decisions."
"So you sent him to the Fatui."
"I thought their strict disciplinary measures would straighten him out, but no, the boy was so naturally gifted that they went ahead and made him a Harbinger. If you ask me, it was the last thing he needed, placing him in a position of authority like that. As if his delusions of grandeur weren't already enough, he they gave him concrete validation to prove his superiority, along with the power to do whatever he pleased. I hoped his job would at least keep him away so he couldn't endanger my family, yet here he is, prancing around with my youngest as if nothing happened."
What, you mean Teucer? He's my brother. Surely I'm allowed to hang out with my brother. You don't think I'd hurt him, do you?
Do you?
"But...he's still your son," reminded Lumine. Childe was slightly surprised by the tone of her voice, as if she truly wished to defend him. As if she cared about him.
"That...thing is not my son. My son is human. But Ajax...he's a monster."
Darkness. Pitch black. No way out. The beast sank its teeth into his flesh, and at last, the pain arrived. Childe clamped a hand over his mouth to keep himself from screaming. His legs buckled, his body dropped, his back slid painfully against the bark as he lowered himself to the ground and pulled his knees to his chest. He had suffered many injuries, gained many scars, endured excruciating pain countless times, and none of it could ever have prepared him for the agony he faced now. Stay strong. Stay strong. Don't be a coward.
Lumine's horrified voice cut through the frost. "How could you say that?"
"My child, you've seen it too, haven't you? You know what I mean. Something happened between you two that still scares you, that keeps you far away from him no matter how much you want to get closer." Say something, Lumine. Tell him he's wrong. Tell him that as a person, I'm somewhat okay. But Childe knew there was no point in wishing. He knew exactly which event she was thinking of now: the incident in Liyue. Lumine couldn't deny his father, no matter how much she wanted to. Because he's right. "Look, I don't mean to discourage you," continued the man, sensing Lumine's internal despair. "But...I have to warn you. Stay far away." Yes. Stay away. "He is fundamentally different from us," I'm fundamentally different. "and he cannot be reasoned with." It's true. I can't. "So don't try." There's no point. "You'd be digging your own grave that way," I don't want to kill her..."whether you die by his hands or your own." ...but I guess that doesn't mean I won't. "Spare yourself the pain." I bring pain. "And please, whatever you do, you must not love him. Ever."
Hold up...what?
"Um...wait...you don't think I..."
"Oh, no, please don't get the wrong impression. I don't mean it like that. There are many ways to love someone. I'm simply...I'm just warning you not to get too attached."
So his father was afraid of Lumine learning to love him. He didn't want her to trust him, he didn't want her to get attached, he didn't want her to care for him in any way, shape or form. Childe begged her to say something defensive, to insist that she could never make such a cruel promise.
"Oh, don't worry about that. He gets under my skin. I could never...you know."
His face was in his hands, his knees against his chest, his heart scattered in a million poisonous shards on the ground. She hates me.
"Alright. Just...be careful. He has this...way with people. I don't want anyone else getting hurt because of it."
"I'll be fine. I can handle him."
"I hope you're right."
Childe couldn't take it anymore. He stood up, moved out of earshot, and broke into a run. Every muscle in his body urged him to cry, but he held back, fearing weakness, fearing the looks on the others' faces when they saw his tears. He couldn't allow anyone to see him like that, and therefore, he would not allow himself to be like that at all.
He could already smell the food cooking when he neared the house. For a moment, he stood before the door and forced his face to stretch into the best smile he could manage. He waited, held it, got used to the feeling, then with a deep breath, pushed through the door.
"Hey mom." He shot a quick wave at the woman in the kitchen and took the opportunity to practice his grin. It was easier with her, and he needed to get ready for the real test: Lumine.
"Oh, you're back. Excellent."
"Need any help?" He didn't wait for a response before approaching the kitchen and finding some vegetables to chop. The work distracted him, which was precisely what he wanted.
"Look at you, my responsible boy," cooed his mother. "I remember when you would still fuss about putting away all your toys."
Childe nearly hacked off a finger. She sounded so affectionate. He couldn't help but wonder if she, too, doubted him, if fear was lurking somewhere inside and she couldn't bring herself to accept it. Perhaps, was that true for...everyone?
"Ajax? What's wrong?"
Childe snapped out of his stupor. "Nothing, Mom. My knife slipped, but I'm fine."
"Alright. Be careful."
"Be careful." I know how to use a knife. I'm a Harbinger, for Archons' sake.
Just as he and Tonia were setting the table, he heard the front door open and close. Outside, he remained unchanged. Inside, he panicked. He couldn't face them now. It was too soon. How could he look them in the eye after what they said, now that he knew how they really felt? Still, he figured that Lumine would likely get suspicious if he didn't act completely normal, and the last thing he wanted was an interrogation from the same woman who broke him. So he took in another gulp of air, plastered a smile on his face, and said in the most lighthearted manner possible, "Hey, Lumi! Dinner's just finished."
"Oh, good. I'm starving."
Go ahead and starve for all I care.
As soon as he'd finished eating, Childe excused himself from the table. The boys wanted to play, but Childe told them he had work to do and shut himself in his room. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he took a moment to close his eyes with his head clutched between his hands and his elbows propped on his knees. The pain began to radiate through his body, a sickening sensation that rippled out from his chest and pulsated in giant, constant waves. He figured that Lumine was probably using his absence to look at the pictures his father had promised her. Let her look. It won't change anything.
That's when he remembered something. With a slow, uncertain movement of his hands, he pulled it out, the one part of his childhood that he could still hold. The narwhal smiled at him with a face that was far too happy to belong in this world. Perhaps, there was a time when a smile could comfort him, when an inanimate object could comfort him, when anything could comfort him at all.
Childe threw the toy across the room.
He shouldn't have been affected. He shouldn't have cared. Words meant nothing to him. People's opinions meant nothing. So why did he lay curled up on the bed with pathetic tears trickling down? He told himself to go fishing, or find something to fight, or even challenge Lumine to a duel to remind himself what their relationship was: a rivalry. But Childe couldn't move but for the occasional heave of his chest as his breath shuddered with sobs.
"Seriously, what is wrong with you, Childe? What is wrong with you?!"
At last, Childe knew the answer.
Everything.
* * *
Three knocks on the door. That was what finally lifted Childe out of his endless chasm of pain. He sat up, but his body felt so heavy he could barely manage even that. He watched the door open, watched someone step inside, a small boy with orange hair whose freckled face looked timid. "Big Brother?"
Childe blinked a few times to make sure he was seeing clearly. "Teucer?" It was dark outside, most likely late at night. Childe had never noticed the sky change colors, or how much time had passed by, but he judged that everyone else was most likely asleep by now.
"I had a nightmare," explained Teucer as he gently shut the door behind him. "I was Mr. Cyclops, and some mean men were chasing me, and then I woke up. It was scary. So I came out into the hallway, but it was really dark, and Mom and Dad's room is all the way down, but this room had light coming out, so...I came here. Plus, I want to see you, Big Brother."
Childe had indeed forgotten to turn off the lamp on his bedside table. He could imagine the little boy, terrified of the darkness, moving towards the small beam of light shining through the cracks in the doorway.
Then, Teucer turned his head as something stole his attention. "What's this?" He picked up the dejected narwhal lying on the floor.
"Oh, that's just...um...ah..."
"He looks lonely. It's not nice to leave toys on the floor, you know. What's his name?"
"Um..." To be honest, Childe had never named his whale; he would simply hold it at night. But he knew that Teucer would not be satisfied with such an answer. "Uh...Uni." He cringed. It sounds like Lumi.
"Uni?"
"Yeah. Because...it has a unicorn horn."
"Oh yeah! Unicorn fish!" Teucer squeezed it tight, excited about his new toy. "Uni, I'm gonna introduce you to Mr. Cyclops. You're gonna be the bestest of friends!" Beaming, he hugged it one last time, then glanced at Childe, then at Uni, and back again. "Wait...Big Brother...is this yours?"
Childe felt his cheeks heat up. "Well...it used to be, when I was a little kid. But you can have it now."
"Was it your favorite toy like my Mr. Cyclops?"
"Y-yeah. I guess so."
Teucer giggled. "I didn't know you had a favorite toy. I like it."
Despite everything, Childe couldn't help cracking the tiniest little smile.
The young boy opened the door, peered outside, and closed it again. "It's so dark. I'm still scared."
"There's nothing to be afraid of, Teucer."
Teucer inched towards the bed with the narwhal still clutched firmly in his arms. "Can I sleep with you tonight, Big Brother?"
Those bright blue eyes pleaded harder than they needed to; Childe could never say no to his little brother. With a warm smile, he patted the sheets, inviting the boy to join him. "Come on in." Teucer pounced onto the bed and wriggled under the covers without a moment's hesitation. Childe had not changed, but he decided to ignore that, settling only to turn off the lamp.
"Eee! It's dark!" squeaked Teucer.
"It's okay. Like I said, there's nothing to be afraid of."
Teucer snuggled up to his brother's chest, still holding Uni. "I'm scared, Big Brother."
Childe wrapped his arms around the boy and held him tight, letting the warmth melt the shards of ice that pierced him so painfully. "It's okay," he whispered. "Don't be afraid. Nothing can get you. I won't ever let anything get you." He found Teucer's pinky and hooked his own around the tiny finger. "I promise."
Teucer trusted him. Teucer was not afraid. But Teucer doesn't know what I am. Still, Childe was glad to not be alone in the darkness, to have someone to hold. Even when others cast him away, Teucer came to him. And Childe needed to maintain that at all costs. If Teucer were to reject him like his father and Lumine...I'm sorry, Teucer. But I have to lie to you for just a little longer. I have to be selfish for just a little longer. I'm protecting your dreams, but I'm also protecting myself. So please...just stay with me for a little while longer.
Childe's problem was that he could never say what he meant. He could never properly act on his true intentions. How could he, when in the grand scheme of things, his intentions did not matter? How could he, when he was simply a pawn, performing his duty for a greater purpose? He was not the player. He did not make the choices. He could not defy his orders because his intentions told him to.
But what about the little choices he made every day? His choice to cook pancakes for breakfast, or to start a snowball fight, or even to jump in and save Lumine when she fell into the sea? What about when he shunned her after she yelled at him, or hurt her in a fight, or pressured her to talk about her brother when she clearly wasn't ready? Did he have control over those choices? Could he have made different ones? Could he have followed his intentions? Could things be different because of it?
There, in that dark room, with his precious brother clutched in his arms, Childe made a choice. He would go to Lumine tomorrow. He would talk to her. He would ask her about her true feelings. He would tell her his. He would spell out his intentions in big, bold letters so that she couldn't possibly misunderstand him. Tomorrow, Lumine would know his intentions. Tomorrow, Childe would know her thoughts. Tomorrow, he was settling this fair and square, and not even the Tsaritsa could sway him.
* * *
Something was wrong with his smile. Something was wrong with his eyes. Something had always been wrong with his eyes, and Lumine knew the look well.
After the incident by the lake, Aether had bombarded her with cautionary whispers—"Get away from him. He's dangerous. He can't be trusted"—and Lumine couldn't shut him out. Lost, confused, yet helplessly curious, she had shoved her thoughts away as much as possible to avoid confronting them. However, when Natalia asked her to fetch her husband, Lumine saw an opportunity to find answers and couldn't help seizing it. Konstantin, or Kostya as he went by, was a kind man. She had noticed this kindness from the moment he first entered the room, and she saw it again yesterday by the lake. And the way he spoke about Childe was simply baffling.
Parental love was not something Lumine was well acquainted with. Orphaned since birth, she had only ever depended on herself and on Aether. After a while, she had stopped telling people she had no parents, sometimes even when they asked. That was because of the way they would look at her, with nothing but pity, and go on about how sorry they were. She was tired of listening to them, as if Aether wasn't enough, as if by not having parents, she was lacking something that everyone needed to survive. Lumine never felt like she was lacking anything; to her, the notion of having parents was as insignificant as the dust in the wind.
So it was only when Kostya began speaking about his son when Lumine finally understood.
She had seen it before, and missed it. A mother's caress, a father's smile. She saw it when Natalia spoke Childe's name, when she touched him with a tendernesses that no one else could ever match. Lumine had noticed the significance of the moment, but she hadn't understood what made it so significant, why the air felt so tense and yet so beautiful. Now, she knew: Natalia was aware of her son's dealings with the Fatui. She was conscious of how he had changed, how dangerous he had become now that his life revolved around violence. And she loved him anyway.
Kostya loved him too. Lumine was convinced of that, even though the man had claimed to have lost him. Despite his horrifying words, despite the way he spoke of Childe as of he wasn't human, Lumine could tell how much those words pained him to say. He didn't say them because he didn't love his son. He said them because they were true. Kostya, unlike Lumine, had decided to face everything head-on, to accept the facts and let go of his feelings. So regardless of love, he chose to protect the majority, even if he would never forgive himself for it.
And Lumine could never forgive herself for choosing one over the other. Childe, or Aether. Enemy, or kin. The boy who could kill her in the blink of an eye, or the boy she had always trusted with her life. The answer was obvious, the choice hardly an issue, and yet, Lumine couldn't bear to make it.
Because when he came to her early that morning and told her to follow him to the lake, for the first time, Lumine was forced to confront everything.
"Why do you hate me so much?"
Those were the first words that came out of his mouth when they reached the clearing by the lake. Lumine, stupefied, could only stare at him and try to find some clues as to why he would ask her such a question. She didn't remember making him mad, but he was obviously upset with her for reasons she could not find.
"What do you mean?" she ventured to ask.
"Oh, you know perfectly well what I mean."
So hostile, so cold. Part of her tried to hold onto her unexpected fondness for the smiling, laughing Childe, but the cold and bitter Childe she saw now was too unpleasant to ignore. "Well...you tried to drown Liyue," she said matter-of-factly, reminding herself as much as him that he was the antagonist.
"So you're still holding that against me. You really know how to hold grudges."
With those words, the small amount of respect she had for him vanished. Was that what he thought? That she was just holding a grudge? Did he really not understand the significance of his actions? "What, you think I'm just supposed to forgive you for almost committing genocide?"
"Everything I did was for my family."
"...Wha..." Lumine found herself gasping in astonishment. "...your family has nothing to do with this!"
"They have everything to do with this! Why do you think the Tsaritsa wants the Gnoses in the first place? To protect Snezhnaya. To bring peace."
"Don't give me all that peace-mongering crap!"
"It's true! I should know."
"Well, then she has a funny way of going about it." Lumine crossed her arms over her chest, now genuinely angry. "Besides, what business do you have in peacemaking? We both know you live for chaos."
"Don't you get it? This isn't about me. I'm just a pawn in a greater plot. I'm not a person. I'm a weapon. I don't care what happens to me, as long as Snezhnaya and my family have the future they deserve."
Lumine softened ever so slightly. Every instinct in her body urged her to stay mad at him, but she couldn't help wondering why he would say such strange things. A pawn? A weapon? And not a person? Why? But before she could ask the question, her mouth formed the words "So because of that, it's okay to just threaten the lives of thousands of innocent citizens?"
"I'm sorry, okay! There! Is that what you wanted to hear?"
With that, Lumine snapped right back into being angry. "Childe, you can't just slap an apology on something like that and expect me to forgive you," she said, slightly offended.
"Then what can I do? Seriously, tell me how to make it up to you and I will."
Is he seriously saying that now? "You can't."
"Why not?" he pressed.
"You just can't."
"That's not an answer."
"It won't work."
"Why? Why won't it work?"
"Because that's not really why I'm upset!"
The air went still and silent. Childe was stiff as stone. Lumine, shocked by her own words, tried to make sense of the new feeling bubbling up inside of her—the feeling that for once, when faced with a question about Childe, she had told the truth.
"It's not?"
Lumine looked away, unable to meet his blue gaze lest she lose herself forever. The thought was there, there in her mind, but she couldn't say it, not now, not ever. Because if she said it out loud, she would have to face it. If she said it out loud, she would know it was true. "Ugh, I'm so selfish..." she finally got out, unwilling to reveal any more on the nature of her secret.
"Selfish? About what? Why? Why are you upset?"
"Because..."
"Tell me! Now!"
"Because...because I wanted you to be on my side."
It happened again. The stillness in the air, the feeling that she once again said the honest thing.
"You did?" he asked, his voice tinted with mystified suspicion. "Why?"
Lumine racked her brain for a viable excuse, and this was what she found: "What do you mean, 'why?' No one wants another enemy."
"Yeah, but, that's not..."
"What? You're a powerful asset and a member of a rival organization, which means that if you were on our side, we could use you as a double-agent. You'd be a valuable advantage." Her heart was pounding for reasons she couldn't comprehend, her stomach tying in knots. Please believe me. Please believe me.
"Yes, but...would you really get so upset because of that?"
"We're here now, having this conversation, aren't we? So, I don't know, duh." Believe me. Believe me. Believe me.
"But...it was a long shot anyway. You knew I'd probably turn out to be bad. Why get this upset?"
"Well..." She had run out of excuses. She was giving up. Her only option was to say it, say what she'd been thinking since the moment he first swooped into the scene, since the moment he cocked his head and shot her that smug grin. But she couldn't, not now, not when her brother was missing, not when everything depended on her staying focused and finding the Seven and not getting attached to a member of the Fatui whose own father warned her to keep her distance from..."You're fun."
Lumine looked up. The instant she did, she remembered why she had previously kept her eyes far away. She would never be able to pull away from those sapphire pools of mischief; to look at them was to lower her defenses, to soften her stance, to weaken her legs until they buckled, and a jolt of adrenaline sent a small yelp from her throat until something—someone—caught her.
"Lumine?"
Childe's firm grip on her arms was the only thing keeping her upright. She tried to shove him away, but as her hands came in contact with his chest, her fingers began to curl, gripping him, pulling her along as the momentum forced him backward into a tree. Suddenly, she was above him, and his face was inches away. He didn't speak, didn't protest, didn't try to break free as she planted her hands on the bark beside his head. It was just like that other day, same place, same pose, only this time, it was Lumine who stared down at the young man in front of her. Lumine had him cornered. Lumine had him pinned. Then her eyes flickered away from his for a moment, glimpsed his eager lips before returning to their home in his gaze. A tiny spark of excitement danced across the endless blue, telling her that he understood, that he was ready.
But Lumine was not.
"Oh my gosh..." Lumine pulled away, releasing him from her prison. "Oh my Archons, I am so sorry..."
"Lumine..."
"Please just forget that any of this happened. I don't know what came over me..."
"Lumine..."
"You can't tell anyone about this, okay? Ugh, what has gotten into me? I'm so sorry..."
"Lumine."
Lumine looked up at him once again. His expression was unreadable. Slowly, cautiously, as if she was a skittish animal that he didn't want to scare off, Childe came towards her. Lumine's heartbeat accelerated when he pulled off his gloves with his teeth and dropped them carelessly on the ground. He reached out his hand, and with the sort of tenderness one reserves for the most precious of things, he ran a single finger along the line of her cheekbone. His bare skin left ticklish sparks that burned despite the frigid air. Then his fingers came to rest along her jaw, and his head came nearer, and his beautiful blue eyes fluttered closed.
A tiny brushing of the lips. It was gone in an instant. Then another, and another, quick, light, and subtle. Aether started screaming at her, urging her to stop, to run, to get as far away from Childe as possible, but every inch of her body told her to pull him closer, and she obeyed. As her hands slithered behind his head and found a few tufts of hair, she was surprised by how tempting the stuff turned out to be. Even under her gloves, she detected the fluffy texture, and it compelled her to remove those despicable pieces of cloth that kept her from feeling his hair. Soon, she was addicted to the soft sensation on her fingers, and she wondered how she could ever part from it.
Childe had started out gentle, but as Lumine touched him more, kissed him more, let him know that she wanted more, he began to show his true colors. He grabbed her waist and forced their bodies closer, clutched her head and pushed her deeper, grasped at her lips with increasing fervor so that Lumine could barely keep up. She had neither the knowledge nor the experience to discern the quality of the kiss, knowing only the raging tides of passion forcing her to accept and return his gestures. Lumine had been a fool for thinking he took no interest in her other than as an opponent. No, he had been longing for this for quite some time, and now that he had it, he couldn't contain himself.
"Childe...I can't..." Lumine murmured between kisses. He ignored her, cupped her face in his palms, kissed her harder. This is wrong.
"Childe...I can't..."
He silenced her with his tongue, and this new level of intimacy drew an involuntary moan from her throat. Damn it, why does it have to feel so good?
"Childe, please..."
When he stopped, instead of being relieved, Lumine felt as if something precious had just been stolen from her. As soon as she opened her eyes, she found herself staring at his mischievous smile, at the glimmer of affection hidden behind his lustful gaze. "Oh? What's that, Girlie?" he teased, his sly, seductive voice back to taunt her. "Is someone having a good time?"
"No," she lied sheepishly.
"No? Guess I'll just have to try harder." He leaned in for another kiss, a kiss that Lumine suddenly felt unready for.
"Wait..." She put her hands on his chest and held him back. He seemed to sense the shift in her mood and stopped approaching, studying her expression instead. "I...wanted you to be on my side." The melancholy echo of previous words drew out a single tear, a lone trickle of water, that froze within moments. "But you're not." A catch entered her voice. "You're not on my side. And you never will be." A sharp inhale cut off her words, and she had to take a few deep breaths before she could continue. "I know why you do what you do. I know you have good intentions. I know you don't want to hurt people, not really, but sometimes you just can't help it. I get it. I'm like that too." Her mind flashed back to all the times she had snapped at him without proper provocation. "I just wish that every time I think about it, I didn't feel so...betrayed, as if you were ever on my side to begin with."
Childe pressed the pad of his thumb on her chin and leaned forward once more. "How about you join the Fatui?"
A gasp, a scoff, and then flustered shouting: "Seriously, Childe?!" Lumine scowled as the frustrating ginger burst into laughter. He knew she was facing conflicting emotions, he knew she had just confessed something that had been bothering her for months, and of all the things he could have said, all the angles from which he could have approached the situation, he chose humor. "Okay, I take it back. You can stay on your side. You're awful and I don't want anything to do with you."
"Aw, come on. You don't really mean that, do you Girlie?" He clearly wasn't offended, knowing full well that Lumine did not in fact mean it at all.
Lumine released an exasperated huff. "Okay, I gave you your answers. Now let's go back. It's cold out here."
"Fine, fine. Whatever you say." With a single swoop of his arm, Childe scooped up their gloves and pulled his back on. He started to hand hers over when she snatched them back and shoved her fingers into them as fast as she could, suddenly embarrassed about removing them. As annoying as he was, Lumine was secretly grateful he hadn't pestered her further about what she said. Somehow, the words she did say conveyed enough, even if there were still words she had yet to utter. She didn't need to tell him that her emotions had been born from a crush. She didn't need to tell him to keep this most recent encounter a secret. She didn't need to tell him that her thoughts were selfish because they prioritized superficial fantasies over the world, over Liyue, over her dear, lost brother. He knew. She knew. And with that, she could trust him. Not with anything else. But with that, she could trust him.
"By the way," his voice rang out once again, "you're my first kiss now."
"Why do I find that so hard to believe?" returned Lumine, imitating his cunning purr.
"So I'm that pretty, huh?"
Lumine smirked.
"Shut up, Childe."