No Matter What

37

Childe's POV:

I'm frozen, eyes trained on the tall officer with his arms crossed against his chest. He raises an eyebrow at my hesitation, and I allow myself to turn back to my husband. Our expressions match, as he looks just as distraught as me. What did he hear? Was he standing there the whole time? I can't even remember what I've said.

My gaze shifts to Xiao, whose hands are plastered over his face. I know beneath them are puddles collecting in his palms. I look back to Zhongli, taking his hands and running my thumbs across the soft flesh as I watch his glistening wet eyes.

"I love you," I whisper. "Don't worry about me, okay? I'll be back soon. I promise. And then, I'll never leave you alone again. We're going to get through this."

Zhongli nods slowly, hands shaking in mine. I turn back toward Officer Wriothesley, who waits patiently by the door. With a sigh, I lift my husband's hands to my lips and press against them softly, before standing to my feet.

Wriothesley and I say nothing at all to one another. I simply follow him out to his police car, and he drives off quickly down the road. It remains that way all the way to the station. No questions are asked in the vehicle, not even a glance in each other's directions.

He pulls the car into the station and walks around to let me out, like a gentleman taking his date out for dinner—though I know it's because I can't open it myself. He guides me into the building, shooting a playful greeting to the person at the front desk, before leading me around the corner and into a room with just a chair, table, and a light.

"Just stay put for now," Wriothesley says, pointing at the chair. "I've got a couple things I need to do first, then I'll come in here and ask you some questions, alright?"

I eye him, mouth a hard line as I slowly make my way toward the chair. I stare at him, before sitting down like a child placed in a corner for bad behavior. He rolls his eyes and closes the door with a loud click.

I sigh, looking down at my lap as a million thoughts swarm my brain. I have to get my story straight. I told the nurse at the hospital that Zhongli had slipped and stabbed himself on accident. So, with that, how do I explain why I'm also bloody? I sigh louder, leaning on my knees and running my hands through my hair. All this chaos, I've almost forgotten how badly my head hurts. Trying to think in these conditions is futile.

I close my eyes, and before I know it, I've drifted off once again, because I'm startled awake when I nearly fall from my chair. My eyes dart toward the clock above the door. It's been 45 minutes. Why hasn't he returned yet? What the hell is he even doing?

It isn't for another 20 mins that the door opens again and Officer Wriothesley comes strolling in with a steaming mug in hand. I look up, brows creasing at the leisurely demeanor he's brought, as if I haven't been sitting in here for over an hour.

"Alright," he says, closing the door with his elbow. "Sorry about that. Had some business I needed to take care of first." He places the mug down on the table between us, then takes a seat across from me with a grunt, pushing himself in and leaning back. "So, Childe, right? I assume you know why you're here."

I pause, studying his expression. He seems relaxed—like he's done this a million times before. Me on the other hand, I'm the opposite. "About the accident, right?" I say. "About Zhongli getting stabbed."

He nods. "Right. A couple questions before we start. What do you do for work?"

I blink. "I'm a bodyguard... why?"

"Under which company?"

"Self-employed," I say. "People hire me for jobs because I'm skilled in combat."