[ Of all the things Diluc could have said or done in the moment, Childe hadn't been expecting that.
The hand over his is bad enough, layering his skin with a warmth that bleeds into his bones, sending an unnatural, unwarranted thrill racing along his spine. The expression that takes over his face is much different than the usual self-assured look he wears, the widening of his eyes and the uncertainty suddenly flooding their depths making him look the furthest from one of the Tsaritsa's ruthless Harbingers.
It's in this moment that he looks very much like the man that he should have been, without the need for chaos and his persistent drive for power that were staples of his personality.
Even more incriminating is the flush that suddenly suffuses under his skin, a redness blooming just under his cheeks and bleeding over to the tips of his ears. When Diluc shifts his thumb against his skin, Childe gives a full body jerk with a noise that comes out as a mixture of a gasp and something strained.
It's all the prompting he needs to snatch his hand away and stand up, kicking his chair back perhaps a little too hard and sending it back loud enough to draw attention to the rough scraping of wood on wood.
If he's intending to leave, he doesn't - not yet. Instead, he's just gaping at the other man, the expression on his face equal parts lost and confused and with the blush deepening to almost-permanence on his face. ]
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The hand over his is bad enough, layering his skin with a warmth that bleeds into his bones, sending an unnatural, unwarranted thrill racing along his spine. The expression that takes over his face is much different than the usual self-assured look he wears, the widening of his eyes and the uncertainty suddenly flooding their depths making him look the furthest from one of the Tsaritsa's ruthless Harbingers.
It's in this moment that he looks very much like the man that he should have been, without the need for chaos and his persistent drive for power that were staples of his personality.
Even more incriminating is the flush that suddenly suffuses under his skin, a redness blooming just under his cheeks and bleeding over to the tips of his ears. When Diluc shifts his thumb against his skin, Childe gives a full body jerk with a noise that comes out as a mixture of a gasp and something strained.
It's all the prompting he needs to snatch his hand away and stand up, kicking his chair back perhaps a little too hard and sending it back loud enough to draw attention to the rough scraping of wood on wood.
If he's intending to leave, he doesn't - not yet. Instead, he's just gaping at the other man, the expression on his face equal parts lost and confused and with the blush deepening to almost-permanence on his face. ]