Kiss Me More || Childe x Reader

Epilogue

The harsh cold winter of Snezhnaya had remained unyielding for as long as you could remember. The snow, the air—everything retained that bone-chilling quality etched in your memories. Perhaps it was your reduced human state that made the cold feel more biting compared to the days when you held greater strength. Reluctantly, you acknowledged your current weakness.

Years had passed since your last visit to your lover's homeland. Now, you found yourself standing before the headquarters of the Fatui harbinger. Attempting to enter, you were abruptly halted by a guard.

"Who are you?" the guard inquired.

"Y/N," you replied.

However, they didn't appear to recognize you, only raising an eyebrow in response. They were likely new guards.

"Just inform the eleventh harbinger of my presence," you asserted.

"Do you have an appointment?" the guard questioned.

"Yes," you lied. The bitter cold and your eagerness to reunite with your beloved spurred this fabrication. You fabricated a lie to the guard, expediting the entire process.

Having met Zhongli a few weeks ago, you were unable to resist the desire to see an exact favorite harbinger of yours. Yet, Zhongli hadn't informed Childe about you, and with Childe being occupied when Zhongli asked him to visit Liyue, you chose to make the journey yourself despite the harsh winter, layered in clothes to withstand the cold.

The guard nodded, saying, "I'll inform them of your presence."

He ascended the stairs to relay your supposed appointment to his boss. "Sir, there's a woman requesting an audience with you; she claims to have an appointment."

Childe sighed audibly, evident fatigue marked by the bags under his eyes. The toll of sleepless nights due to overwork was evident.

"Another one?" he questioned, his recent encounters with Pantalone's well-intentioned attempts to uplift Childe had become a frequent annoyance. Pantalone, witnessing Childe's frazzled state, resorted to sending a succession of individuals to alleviate the eleventh's distress.

Sick of the routine, Childe gazed at the ring neatly preserved in its box, a purchase made a year ago.

"Dismiss her," Childe declared, uninterested in welcoming yet another visitor in the harsh weather.

Convinced it was another one of Pantalone's arranged encounters, he assumed it followed the familiar script of claiming an audience when, in reality, there was no such request. Names and faces blurred, as these were individuals Childe anticipated forgetting sooner rather than later.

Childe's assumption held until his persistent guard returned for the second time, reporting that the woman remained stationed in front of the headquarters for a stubborn two hours.

"What a pain," Childe muttered, contemplating how this woman's tenacity mirrored someone he knew.

Resigned, he decided, "Fine, I'll tell her to leave myself." With a cigarette between his fingers, he exhaled a plume of smoke as he made his way towards you.

Seeing the love of your life emerge from the main door, you felt relief, suppressing the thoughts that perhaps he had moved on or forgotten about you. The two-hour wait outside his headquarters left you uncertain of his intentions. If he was angry for your repeated broken promises, you were ready to accept the consequences.

"Y/N?" he questioned in disbelief.

He stood before you, dressed in a white shirt adorned with a bretel suspender, his trousers completing the ensemble. Your current crouched position, hugging both of your legs to stave off the cold, caught him off guard as a twinge of guilt settled in his chest.