[ Perhaps it is better for the both of them if Zhongli forgets. After all, how much more complicated would things be if Zhongli did remember? Would he had even made his way to Snezhnaya burdened with the baggage of their broken friendship.

(No, he would not. But also closure cannot be found for either of them with Zhongli like this.)

One hand slides up the slit of fabric draped over Childe's stomach — a signature flair of his fashion even here in the lands of ice and snow. Fingertips tease along his ribs and stroke appreciatively the honed muscles and scars he finds scattered there. Zhongli's head lulls unconsciously toward the smile pressed against his skin even as his cheeks flush redder from Childe's teasing.

Warm. It is so warm here. ]

Yes. I want. I want so much that I can not properly put it into words. This feelings that burns when you are near and still smolders in your absence. Ever present.

I want to feel the touch of your passion. I want to offer you the sincerity of my feelings.

I want and I want, Childe.

[ The Harbinger's name is breathed as a prayer as Zhongli kisses whatever part of Childe is within reach. The heels of his dress shoes dig further into Childe's cloak. ]

And I do not know what to do about it.