Breaking the Collar

Broken

You wake to the softest of sensations: a slow line being drawn along your jaw, a gentle kiss being pressed to your temple, a languid hand stroking through your hair, a soft and shallow breath falling against your bare, exposed neck.

For a moment, you're transported to childhood. The touches against your skin remind you of domestic bliss, of a proud mother, a loving father. It's so sweet that you're almost lulled back into the dreamless sleep you'd been indulged in earlier until the hand caressing you so sweetly goes down to straighten the jewels that are adorned off your necklace.

Your necklace.

The soft fog of your brain begins to clear.

Your collar.

Your eyes open, and you see the crystal blue eyes of your owner, shining brighter than the morning sky as he gazes down at you with a foreign emotion.

"Ajax?" you whisper, telling him you're awake. "What are you doing?"

Childe only smiles when he realizes that you're awake.

"Just..." he bows his head to press a chaste kiss against your lips. "Appreciating my angel. You look so beautiful right now."

The compliment makes you feel bashful in a way you haven't felt for months, now: it's been so long since someone has just called you beautiful without simultaneously degrading you as nothing more than a body to be fucked; the feeling that rushes out from your heart is overwhelming.

"I'm sorry if I woke you," Childe continues on when you say nothing, "You can go back to bed if you want. There's nothing we have to do today, except..."

"Except?"

You look up at the man, surprised that he seems to have anything to do at all. Ever since his meeting with Diluc and Kaeya, his schedule has been completely empty due to his total loss of clientele. Did he decide to take Scaramouche up on his offer? Is he returning to the industry? Is Childe preparing you to have your body tossed around worthlessly once more, the way you always were when seated at his side during those wretched business meetings?

Your heart falls when you think about that.

This—whatever this is—was something you'd begun to enjoy. It felt like, for once, Childe was treating you as a real, living person rather than just a tool to advance his human trafficking schemes with.

You don't think you're ready for it all to end.

"I want to take you shopping," Childe says, and instantly, your fears dissipate.

"What?" you ask, confused.

"Shopping," the man elaborates, assuming that you've forgotten what the act is in your time under him. "Buying clothes from stores. Clothes to your particular taste, specifically. And clothes that fit. We don't have to go if you don't want to, of course, but I thought that you'd like it better than just..."

You shoot a curious look Childe's way.

He sighs, tearing his eyes away.

"Better than just wearing Lumine's old clothes."

Your breathing catches at that; and, really, why did you not think of it sooner? The wardrobe Childe has for you is what would be traditionally exclusive to a woman. It's all skirts and blouses, most of which are in pastel tones. It never occurred to you to question why your owner had so much feminine attire on hand, but after hearing the story about Lumine from Diluc yesterday, it's clear that her connection with Childe was similar to, or probably greater than, your relationship with him.