Sweet Stranger (RazorXReader)

ONE

(I'm too lazy to edit so I apologize first if there are any written wrong names, places, typos, grammar, etc.)

Just imagine Razor as 18 or older here. I wrote lemon but it still feels wrong if I wrote it about a 16 year old Razor. His image should be a little bit more mature here thank you for understanding.

You were scavenging around Wolvendom for small lamp grass flowers. It was part of Sara's secret recipe to make flavorful dishes in Good Hunter. Though you've only been working there for a couple of months to support your family after the Stormterror incident struck Mondstadt.

You were shocked at first when Sara entrusted you the secret spices she uses in her cooking. And because she'd given you that much trust, you didn't want to disappoint her.

Small lamp grass flowers have been hard to spot recently but you were adamant on getting as much as you can before night fall.

"Let's see... Hmm, 14 flowers," You rummaged through the basket in your hand. You could get much more than this, Sara needs them.

With that thought in mind, you went deeper into Wolvendom. An hour passed by with an addition of 3 more flowers in your collection. Looking at the rumbling sky and dark thick clouds forming above, you decided that it was high time to get back.

"Ya!"

Suddenly, a group of hilichurls appeared right when you turned a corner. Three smaller ones held arrows and torches as the big one in the middle taunted you.

Fear struck when you realized the situation you were in. Oh no, dear Barbatos...

You clutched the basket of small lamp grass flowers tightly against your chest and bolted the opposite direction of the hilichurls, deeper into the territory of the wolves.

At least if you die, it would be better to get eaten by wolves rather than hilichurls, not that either idea was great at all.

You were weak with no power, no vision like the heroes of Mondstadt, a far cry from the honorary knight who defeated stormterror. You had no hope going against a group of hilichurls.

"Ya! Ya!" The hilichurls called out as they chased you deeper into the woods. Their foot steps getting eerily closer.

"Ya!"

The big hilichurl caught the ends of your cape, draggin you back to it. With its sharp claws, the creature clutched onto the back of your neck, piercing your skin.

"Ahh!" You cried out. The pain was immense, blood started to flow down your clothes as you held the basket tightly in your arms, praying to Barbatos for mercy.

Another scream engulfed the woods but this time the sound didn't come from you. Claws on your back suddenly flailed from its grip and you fell down hard on your bottom.

"Grrawr!" A cold voice echoed from behind you.

You shivered in place. Was it another monster? What happened to the hilichurl?

You brought your legs close to your chest and burried your face in them.

After the voices of hilichurls subsided, howls of wolves were there in exchange.

So now you're wolf meat.

You huddled closer to yourself, trying to erase your presence from the world. Even though you knew your fate was unavoidable, you still wanted to live.

Soft foot steps reached you from behind when then a hand touched your shoulder. Hmm.. a hand?

You slowly peaked up from your position to see a boy around your age with long silver hair and crimson eyes staring at you.

"Human," The boy whispered slowly into the sky who had started to unleash its hold on the rain.

Water droplets stung your open wound, mixing with your fresh blood as it trailed to the ground.

The boy scrunched up his nose at the smell of blood and frowned before reaching out for you. You reacted by hiding your face in between your legs again but that failed.

"Stranger is hurt. Razor help," He gently put a hand behind your back and thighs, hoisting you up in his arms.

You didn't know how to react. His actions seems gentle but he was a stranger. Adding the impossible scene before you as Razor walked through a pack of wolves, them following him from behind as if to protect him.

You tried to make sense of things for a while before fainting due to the loss of blood.