[The lightness of Ajax's laugh fills the air between them, dissipating the tension in a way that feels both natural and disarming. It's… strangely familiar. He's seen so many people able to weave this kind of mental maneuver, of meaning business, sometimes dangerous business, and they laugh it off to dissipate the threat. It's oddly strange to see such passionate claims coming from Ajax, when he's but someone who works with toys.
Perhaps he's being too nostalgic. How Ajax can be both fiercely determined and so unguardedly open at the same time is something he finds endlessly captivating.
But there is something else that lingers beneath that openness. Maybe even a hesitancy—an unspoken hope that lingers in the way Ajax’s gaze lowers to their joined hands, then to his lips, as if caught between a want and a fear of reaching too far too quickly.
What is he afraid of?]
A win/win situation... [He muses, lowering his gaze to the pieces, his free hand tapping onto one of them, mindlessly tipping it just a fraction, as though weighing the scales of their conversation.] That does sound appealing. But I think there's an opportunity here for something even more... rewarding.
[His thumb still traces slow, steady circles on the back of Ajax’s hand. There’s a pause, and then Zhongli looks up, his voice still a soft murmur, the kind that almost seems to wrap around them, as if sealing them off from the rest of the world.]
How about this: if you win, you can claim your prize—whatever you wish for. But if I win, I get to choose where this evening takes us.
[Zhongli’s smile deepens, warm and knowing, as his fingers tighten ever so slightly around Ajax’s hand.
His fingers move the piece to an extremely dangerous place for the both of them.] I’m certain you’ll find that quite a compelling contract. It’s not often that I offer such terms.
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Perhaps he's being too nostalgic. How Ajax can be both fiercely determined and so unguardedly open at the same time is something he finds endlessly captivating.
But there is something else that lingers beneath that openness. Maybe even a hesitancy—an unspoken hope that lingers in the way Ajax’s gaze lowers to their joined hands, then to his lips, as if caught between a want and a fear of reaching too far too quickly.
What is he afraid of?]
A win/win situation... [He muses, lowering his gaze to the pieces, his free hand tapping onto one of them, mindlessly tipping it just a fraction, as though weighing the scales of their conversation.] That does sound appealing. But I think there's an opportunity here for something even more... rewarding.
[His thumb still traces slow, steady circles on the back of Ajax’s hand. There’s a pause, and then Zhongli looks up, his voice still a soft murmur, the kind that almost seems to wrap around them, as if sealing them off from the rest of the world.]
How about this: if you win, you can claim your prize—whatever you wish for. But if I win, I get to choose where this evening takes us.
[Zhongli’s smile deepens, warm and knowing, as his fingers tighten ever so slightly around Ajax’s hand.
His fingers move the piece to an extremely dangerous place for the both of them.] I’m certain you’ll find that quite a compelling contract. It’s not often that I offer such terms.