[His mind must have shut off. That's the only way to explain this - why he did this, and why his instincts aren't screaming at him to stop. Even when the bucket clatters to the floor, narrowly missing his foot, he doesn't so much as flinch.
Childe leans in and that should startle him, too. The hand against the back of his neck should startle him, as vulnerable a position as it is. It doesn't. None of it does.
One of Diluc's hands clenches into the fabric at Childe's hip and the other fists into the back of his hair. It's as soft as it's always looked, he realises dimly, and it's that thought rather than anything else that kicks him back into his own head and has him pulling back. He stares with an expression of bewildered confusion settled across his face and his grip on the Harbinger's clothes and hair loosens slightly.]
That-- [His voice cracks. He clears his throat, letting his fingers slip out of Childe's hair and to his shoulder.] We should leave. Now.
no subject
Childe leans in and that should startle him, too. The hand against the back of his neck should startle him, as vulnerable a position as it is. It doesn't. None of it does.
One of Diluc's hands clenches into the fabric at Childe's hip and the other fists into the back of his hair. It's as soft as it's always looked, he realises dimly, and it's that thought rather than anything else that kicks him back into his own head and has him pulling back. He stares with an expression of bewildered confusion settled across his face and his grip on the Harbinger's clothes and hair loosens slightly.]
That-- [His voice cracks. He clears his throat, letting his fingers slip out of Childe's hair and to his shoulder.] We should leave. Now.