[The box he pulls out is a familiar one-- Zhongli's memory was sharp, when it came to the things that mattered. His time with Childe was of course among those. He remembered every dinner, every walk, every drink, every conversation. Those moments might be as grains of sand in the vastness of his memory, but they were ones made of gold, shining and warm to the touch, all the more precious for their bright shine.
Childe had kept them...? There's surprise mingled with a sudden tightness in his chest, and Zhongli looks up to speak, to try to ask--
But Childe is right there, hand plunging towards his chest. That moment of distraction, of emotion has cost him.]
no subject
Childe had kept them...? There's surprise mingled with a sudden tightness in his chest, and Zhongli looks up to speak, to try to ask--
But Childe is right there, hand plunging towards his chest. That moment of distraction, of emotion has cost him.]