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“Why are you so obsessed with me, anyways?”
It sounded like a stupid question. One that should have a clear answer. An obvious one, at that.
He couldn’t answer, though, no matter how hard he thought about the words.
“Well..”
An uncomfortable silence fell. The Harbinger sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose in annoyance.
“C’mon, there’s gotta be *something*.”
Zhongli rubbed his chin, his eyes losing their focus, directed at the table in front of him before finding an answer.
“You’re special.”
“I am?” Childe didn’t sound too impressed by the answer, raising an eyebrow as he leaned back in his chair. Grabbing his coffee, he took the last sip of the lukewarm cup, and placed it down again loudly. “What about me is so special, then?”
Another question the Archon couldn’t answer.
“Everything about you.”
Groaning, the redhead got up from his chair, grabbing his jacket from the wall.
“Make up your mind, Morax. I’m tired of these games. Find me when you have actual answers to my questions.”
Zhongli could only watch as his lover left his apartment. He was alone again.
He wasn’t lying when he said that everything about Tartaglia was special.
The way his eyes lit up when he got the chance to fight. The way his lips curled into a grin when the Archon told one of his stories. The way he rolled his eyes at him when he acted like an overprotective parent, and the way he sought comfort from him anyways.
The way he reacted to the simplest of gestures, the way he tilted his head when he was confused, the way he trained every day to become stronger, so he could protect his siblings and the things that were important to him.
He was special indeed, and Zhongli couldn’t get enough of him.
The words didn’t come to him as easily as the memories did. He didn’t know how to say these things, didn’t know how to put all of these emotions into words.
He loved Tartaglia more than he could ever begin to fathom.
A few days passed. The silence in his apartment without the Harbinger was deafening.
He had tried writing down his memories, his favorite things about the man, but to no success. The pages turned out messy, scribbled, or just entirely empty with several splotches of ink.
He sighed, slumping in his office chair, his eyes trained on the ceiling. He didn’t know how to approach the man again after feeling he had let him down.
Sighing, he rested his elbows on the desk in front of him, supporting his head on his palms. He really didn’t know what to do anymore.
Rubbing his face, he groaned, sighed, mumbled to himself. Frustrations were starting to set in as he grabbed another sheet of paper and his quill, writing down what came to mind.
>If I received one diamond every time you cross my mind, I’d open a jewelry store to collect funds for our marriage.<
Raising his eyebrow at the paper, he scribbled the words out again. Too much.
>If I had one Mora for every memory with you, I’d be able to finance an island filled with your favorite things.<
He scribbled the words out again, almost ripping the paper with the sheer force of his grip on the quill.
>When you smile at me, I feel like the years of the Archon War were all worth it.<
>If I had the words to tell you how much you mean to me, you would still be here with me.<
He sighed, crumbling the paper up, throwing it into the trash can under his desk. The small ball tumbled off the already overflowing bucket, joining several other paper balls by his feet.
When he finally found the right words, the evening sun started setting.
>When you’re with me, I finally feel like myself again.<
Slowly getting up from his chair, new-found determination spread through his body.
Grabbing his coat, he left the office, the piece of paper tight in his hand.
He made his way to Northland Bank, where he knew Childe would be staying.
The Archon didn’t care about being polite when he busted the door open. All the members knew him, and treated him like part of the family.
“Where is Tartaglia?”
The lady behind the counter sighed, jokingly rolling her eyes at the intrusion.
“He just left. He’s taking the next ship back to Snezhnaya.”
The Archon stopped in his tracks.
“Snezhnaya? Why? How long will he be gone?”
“You should ask him that yourself, Morax. His ship will be arriving in 2 minutes.” She pointed to a clock at the wall, and throwing a quick glance at it, he hurried out of the bank again.
He was now basically running down the stairs, along the streets of Liyue, towards the Harbor.
He saw the ship in the distance, setting anchor, with mostly Fatui waiting to get on deck to sail back home.
In the middle of the crowd, he spotted the familiar red, messy hair. He broke into a sprint, ignoring the looks of everyone around him, clutching onto the paper in his hand tighter.
He had to get to him before he went aboard the ship.
“Ajax!”
His stamina wasn’t the best anymore, and by the time people started getting onto the boat, he didn’t have the energy to run anymore. Resting his palms on his knees, he tried catching his breath, around 300 feet away from his goal still.
To his luck, the Harbinger heard his yell and turned around. Childe turned beet red at all the stares the two of them got, and marched up to Zhongli, bridging the distance between them just to grab him by the collar of his suit to pull him back into a standing position.
“What do you think you’re doing here, Zhongli?”
The Archon, still out of breath and heaving heavily, extended both of his hands to the Harbinger, handing him the paper when he let go of his collar.
“This is for you.”
The Harbinger raised both of his eyebrows, gently taking the crumbled paper from Zhongli’s gloved fingers.
He unfolded it, straightening it out a bit before his eyes scanned over the words.
Before Zhongli could say anything else, he was wrapped up tightly in the Harbingers arms.
Slowly, he wrapped his arms around his lover as well, holding him close.
“You’re an idiot, Zhong.”
The Archon chuckled at the words mumbled into his chest, bringing him even closer, gently gripping onto his jacket.
“I know, but you love me.”
“Yeah, I do.”