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beidousoneandonly · 2 years ago

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i fucking loved this fic im reading this everytime im going to bed this is perfect i was looking for a decent fic BUT THIS THIS SHIT IS AMAIZING BRO I LOVED IT SM I DONT WANNA LOSE IT I WANNA PRINT IT OUT IMMA WRITE IT OUT SO IT NEVER GETS ERASED I FUCKING LOVE ITTTTT IT WAS PERFECT IN THE PLOT I WASNT SUPER RUSHED THE BALL THEME THING WAS AMAIZING THE WHOLE JEALOUSY THINGY AGHHH I CANT ITS SO CUTE OMG I LOVE HOW CHILDE WAS PORTRAYED NOT LIKE A F BOY OR SUM LIKE THAT LIKE HES AGHHHHHH AND THE WHOLE GAME THINGY AGHHHH GAHHHHH ILY FOR MAKING THIS I OWE YOU MY SOUL

The Liar in Love - Tartaglia X F!Reader

[She/Her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] [AFAB!Reader] [No spoiler of any plot]

Words : 11.6K

Summary : You are an actress of the night, an adventurer, a shadow that acts without anyone noticing. And behind the scenes, the passionate rival of the 11th Fatui Harbinger: codename Childe. This game you both play to see who would bend first is the only way you believe you can have each other for a few fleeting moments, even if you are both craving for much more.

So when a fragrant letter arrives with an invitation to a ball in the freezing territory of Snezhnaya, you instantly know your place for the night.

9 in the evening – The hunt begins.

Inspired by : Link 1 - Link 2 - Link 3 - Link 4

Tags : Confessions / Fluff + Smut / Power Play / Power Dynamics / Exhibitionism / Voyeurism / Enemies to Friends to Lovers / Rivals with Benefits / Unprotected Sex / Vaginal Sex / Mask Kink / Fingerfucking / Predator/Prey / Cunnilingus

Mainly posting on AO3

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Could pettiness be a good fuel for anyone in whatever endeavor they had?

In whatever they wished to pursue?

You wondered…

Many would say no. Many would argue that pettiness would not get you anything but hardship and misery. To which you would tell them: they were wrong. It was as simple as that.

Pettiness had gotten you to many places, it had even gotten you to the freezing territory of Snezhnaya. Being petty had you traveling and it was a wonderful thing, you thought. If some knew your deeper thoughts, they would perhaps even argue that pettiness had not exactly been your fuel, but you found it much more powerful to qualify your going to Snezhnaya as petty rather than justify it by the real reason for it.

“What’s on your mind?” You heard the blonde girl by your side ask gently. Lumine had always been kind, perhaps to a fault. No matter what people asked of her, she would help them in exchange for information on her brother—but most of the time, that information would be closer to unhelpful rather than not. Had it been you, you would not have helped all those people, for what they asked of her would often be much more demanding than the reward at hand.

Giving her a side glance, you smirked, “I’m thinking that I should come to Snezhnaya much more often, the weather is enjoyable and you know I’m rather fond of sliding down–”

She interrupted you with a roll of her eyes, and a small smile, “Thank you for coming with me. The journey is exhausting, but your company makes it easier to forget it’s freezing here.” She turned her head to where Paimon was sleeping in her backpack and smiled sweetly, “As long as she’s not cold, I could probably brave whatever is to come.” She commented more to herself rather than to you.

It was interesting to see the dynamic between the two of them; sometimes, Paimon reminded you of a pet rather than… whatever she was. You never really knew what she was and it was slightly off-putting, but as long as she didn’t bite, you would be fine. “Who am I to refuse an invitation to a ball, my dearest Lumine?” You said teasingly.

You had known all along of the happening of the ball—who was organizing it, and what the outcome of it would be, but you also knew Lumine was going. You could not just go there and accidentally meet her, then have to justify your reason for being there. So you’d played innocent and asked her if she would like company on her journey there.

She had accepted at such a speed you had been caught off guard and started preparing everything.

And here you were. “Remind me again of your plan once we get there?” You asked innocently. You remembered every step of her instructions, adding your own mentally, but you couldn’t come clear about your own intentions. Instead, you played the card of being here for her, all too aware that once you’d reached your destination, you would part ways.

Much to her displease, you would not stick with her until the end—you couldn’t.

She was there to go after many people, to probably violently get information out of some or even something… harsher. But among them was the one who had invited you, for his own entertainment. You would be a liar and a cheat if you said you did not like the way the letter smelled from the fragrance mixed with the ink—but your enjoyment did not stop at the smell, it came from those beautiful and teasing words he had written on that thick piece of paper now folded in your traveling bag.

My beautiful actress,

Rumors spread rather fast in the midst of such a big organization as the one I am ranked in, you must have heard of the upcoming event that is being organized.

While it should be reserved for our members only, we are more than aware of the rotten eggs in our basket and of the unwelcome visitors we will receive.

To this extent, and in seek of entertainment and thrill, we have decided to announce the event as a masked ball.

Should it not be evident to your intellect, you will be coming with a mask that makes your features indiscernible.

Only then will our little game start, my dearest. Considering the traveler will visit, perhaps with friends that will later join on their own, I would propose we have our own program for the evening. It should go as follows:

9 in the evening – Your arrival, the hunt begins.

11 in the evening, on the condition that none of us has caught the other, making them cave in the process – Rendezvous at the library.

2 in the morn – My quarters, only if the ball has come to an end, of course.

Should the festivities have yet to come to a halt, it would be my honor to see your disheveled form waltzing in my arms.

Tasteful amuse-bouches will be at our guests’ disposal for the evening, although my palate craves something much more delicate than such displays of wealth and abundance.

P.S. Mind not your name, we are rather keen on anonymity, are we not? In addition, I find the name suits you like a glove, considering it is all but play pretend.

Expectantly yours,

Your adversary,

“Well, Diluc still is in contact with some people that work behind the scenes to try to dismantle the Fatui, one of them heard that there was this masked ball, so…” She pondered out loud, “I thought we would get in, pretend to the best of our abilities and try to gather some information.” She nodded to herself, trying to remember what else she had in mind before continuing.

“I know someone. He might be able to help us, but I don’t think we can fully trust him in this setting.” She seemed to be in deep thought, weighing the pros and cons of asking this person for help. With a sharp shake of her head, she looked ahead and huffed with determination, “No, we’ll gather the information ourselves. We also need to find out if they are the ones holding my friend captive–” As if she had said something she shouldn’t have, she waved her hand in front of herself and chuckled. “But we will think about it once we’re there, won’t we?”

That sweet smile returned.

Even though everyone did her wrong, unable to help, she kept on giving her time, her patience, her compassion to them. Most probably forgot what she was looking for, because most wouldn’t care once she had helped them. While you were not as close to her as some others might have been, you still paid attention around you wherever you went, in case anyone would let out some information regarding her brother.

“I am sure they have other things to do than torturing your friend, you know… there are some festivities that need to be prepared.” You said lightly, not believing a word you had said. Many of the Harbingers found some satisfaction in torturing well-informed people; you were more than convinced they would skip whatever they had planned for such an opportunity.

Lumine nodded, “I’m not even sure he’s there, I just need to make sure of that.”

“Well, what is certain is that you are not going to relax tonight.”

She raised a brow and squinted her eyes slightly, “Neither are you, as beautiful as this ball will be, we are going there with a purpose.”

“Of course, of course. No time off—although, if I get caught, leave me to die and run, Lumine!” You said dramatically, the back of your hand to your forehead. When she laughed, you knew you had convinced her, you knew she believed you would help her. No ulterior motives.

The blonde woman’s eyes widened at the sight ahead, “There’s the inn! Finally, we can rest for a few hours before getting dressed and slipping among the crowd. I would assume it should start–”

“Around 8. As any good ball should, I am convinced the Fatui must have prepared a whole banquet.” You told her. While your adversary’s letter predicted your arrival at around 9 in the evening, you thought it smarter to arrive earlier. Not only would it give you the advantage of catching him off guard, but you also believed he could be trying to fool you. Your goal was to blend into the sea of people that would be waiting to enter the palace; should they have been told to arrive earlier, he would have the advantage of seeing you as the only fool to arrive at 9 in the evening.

Deep in thought once more while you walked, Lumine pondered, “I think I should go earlier, to mark any escape routes, see if there are many people guarding.”

She couldn’t catch her breath and resting seemed something she could not do either. If she wished to leave earlier, you would not fight her about it. You both knew what the other’s mask looked like, meaning you’d be able to find each other easily. So you nodded, “You do what you please, Lumine, but do consider resting at some point. I’ll be leaving the inn around 8 considering the palace is not too far.”

“You’ll be late, then?” She said, gasping.

“Fashionably so, yes. I do not want to be seen as too enthusiastic, nor too disrespectful… a quarter past eight seems like the perfect time.”

From there on, you parted ways after Lumine dropped her bag—without Paimon in it—in your shared room, leaving you alone with your thoughts and excitement. Energy would be more than required for the evening ahead of you so you decided to nap until the sunset, which did not take long to settle in Snezhnaya.

It was almost as if in the blink of an eye, it was already time to get dressed for the event.

To dress to impress was a requirement. While criminals, the Fatui were still a political organization, full of money and they talked. You couldn’t help but want to hear rumors about yourself, the woman in the fox mask. You felt out of your mind enough tonight to attach a delusion you had recovered in a fight around your neck. It was a risk—not only for you on your personal account, considering the humming of the item on your chest, but for your life. If people out there realized you were an outsider, they would consider you armed and ready for an assault.

“And wouldn’t that be thrilling?” You told your reflection as you patted down your dress before smiling at how gorgeous you looked in it. It suited your body and enhanced it in all the right ways, you were ready to bet people would look and you would welcome them with open arms—although only one gaze mattered, only one.

Giving yourself a last once over, you put on your mask and tied it behind your head steadily; you shook your head to make sure it did not fall and upon trial, it remained on. You were fully set for the evening, now all that was left was to make your way to the palace.

You would admit, the weather was not suitable for dresses—no amount of layers could have you sweating with the cold outside, but you pushed through. With all the people walking the direction you were going, you did not seem out of place, that is if you did not consider the looks of awe upon their notice of your attire. After all, you had dressed for the occasion, but it was mostly to get him to look at you. Part of you wanted to have him bend first, see how long it would last. How long before he would simply drag you away, inevitably losing at his own game.

As you approached the crowd at the stairs of the palace, people were already stepping inside—some greeting each other, others simply taking in the sight. You were part of the latter group, being all too fascinated by the architecture and the lights that shone in the air and on the walls. It was as beautiful as a winter night with a stainless sky; white, glimmering stars shining bright but not as scintillating as the guiding polar star.

“Is it the Lady’s first time in the palace?” A gruff voice whispered by your ear as a hand settled on your lower back, steering you out of the way. You straightened yourself, as if your corset was not tight enough to have you standing with poise. With a delicate turn of your head, you looked at the man that bore only half a mask on his face to hide his eyes and nose. It had golden branches shaped like wings from under the eyes to the sides; perhaps the audacity to show part of one’s face along with the expensive mask revealed his wealth. “I must say, I have rarely seen it lit as such. For the few times I was summoned here, it has never been as grand as it is today.”

“Then I must give you a tour of the place, perhaps while crossing the dance floor—it would be my honor to show you.”

You saw the smile on his face and pried, “The place… to show me around the palace, I am sure that is what you meant.” You stated, all too coy for your taste but as you did so, your eyes waltzed around the room, unlike your rigid body.

The man let out a laugh, a rather foul one if you dared think.

“Being a prude can only last for so long.” He held out his hand and tilted his head. Before he could speak again, you placed your hand within his with a fake, yet believable soft chuckle. “It would be an honor,” you paused, giving him time to tell you his name, or anything you could call him by.

“Anatoly. What should I call you?” He said as you allowed him to place his hand on your hips while the other held your free one. Dipping your head forward lightly in a show of humility, you huffed a laugh, “For tonight, I will respond to Vittoria—you see, I am in a playful mood, but I do strive for success…”

“Oh, Victory, should I have had a say in your name choice this evening, I would have chosen…” As he pondered, he dragged you on the dance floor mindlessly—the man was quite skilled, but it was no surprise. One wrong move and it would be humiliating for him, high society was unforgiving on that matter. While glancing around, completely ignoring the beautiful melody that played, your eyes focused on a form that could only belong to him.

You were not quite sure from the attire that adorned his figure, but your intuition could not be wrong. Different settings meant different challenges; if you had seen him in Liyue in a light gray suit, and he had tried to blend in somewhat in Inazuma—this, Snezhnaya, was his battlefield. He had the upper hand.

Your eyes could not tear from the form that walked down the stairs with another man at his side while they talked.

He, whom you believed to be your rival, was dressed in a black suit that had fine red detailing. If you could squint your eyes more than you’d already done, you could perhaps see some glimpses of gold. Around his neck was a fine red scarf, and draped over his shoulders rested a black cape with a mix of dark and light brown fur. Ginger flamboyant hair with a beautiful golden sad mask, with holes for the eyes and a mouth like in theaters.

Your observation was interrupted as Anatoly brought you close to him again, “Or perhaps, Trappola?” Trap. Did he find out who you were? “Scarnecchia…” Sneaking around. The man was more learned than you had given him credit for, so instead of panicking, you laughed coyly once more.

“Those are rather heavy on the tongue, wouldn’t you agree?” You smile behind your mask.

In a few swift moves, he had led you to the side of the room where a dark corridor was lit by the moon—you were far from everyone, and this man was not going to ruin your little game. As soon as he pressed you to the wall, a hand to your mouth, you bit him hard and got out a knife from under your dress. You pulled his long coat to cover your forms and stabbed him in the throat. Just like that, the man was left bleeding out on the floor.

You waited a few minutes to make sure he was out then wiped the blade on his attire before stepping away from the growing pool of blood. Looking down at him, you frowned, “My apologies, I did not believe I would be found out so easily.” You then stepped back inside the ballroom where the festivities had remained the same, not one thing was out of order—if one was unaware of the dead body not too far, that was.

Holding your hands to your front on your lower stomach, you walked around the ballroom trying to find him. It was rather challenging to greet everyone and compliment dresses and masks all while looking for him. You hadn’t wanted to get him out of your sight, but Anatoly had to go too far, you had to take care of him—ultimately, it was for the greater good of this beautiful foreplay.

You felt as if you had gone about the ballroom for more than an hour, participating in small, but all the while interesting conversations. Many complimented your mask, and you told them all that you went by the name of Vittoria. The lover. Although the title remained in your mind, you were not about to proclaim anything to these aristocrats.

In the midst of a passionate discussion about one’s aesthetic choices, you caught him walking by once more. This time, you kept talking and made sure to laugh slightly more boisterously than you had done up until then. “And to believe someone let her go out like this! You see, this is why you need honest servants by your side.” The woman that dressed all too eccentrically for your taste said while nudging you, she was fanning her face even in the very depths of Snezhnaya, you were in awe. She was in the wrong for adding soon after that her servants were trustworthy, loyal, and adored her. You knew for a fact the latter was a fallacy from the way she was dressed. Nothing was handed-down, of course not—far from any of these people to wear clothes they have already worn. But you knew the small people and how easily they could convince the rich of new fashions.

All it would take was a gasp at some fabrics, erratic suggestions and compliments, then voila! You’d have a new garment in the making.

You laughed, nodding gracefully, “How lucky of you, they truly worked wonders. Is that a unique piece?” You asked, giving a once over to the bright, rather distasteful outfit she wore.

Excitedly, she smiled—as you could see from the half-mask she wore, “It is indeed! I absolutely adore this dress.”

To your surprise, someone joined the conversation and your breath hitched, “It suits you wonderfully, Irina Nikolaevna.”

Her face would have flushed anew had it not already been burning red through her thick face powder from the tightness of her corset and the many drinks she’d had. She fanned her hand in front of her in false shyness, “Oh, you flatter me, young man—let us pretend you do not know who I am! I thought my disguise was going to trick everyone.”

The man by your side chuckled, “It probably has, but I would recognize your beauty anywhere.” You were no fool, and you would know that voice among thousands.

You knew he was teasing you in the process, testing you even. But you felt your chest burn up slightly as he flirted, with no intention for it to avail, with the older woman in front of you.

His head then tilted down at you, “It seems you have been slipping through my fingers, little mouse.” He told you playfully.

The woman laughed, “She is no mouse! She is a fox, a hunting beast, nothing as slender and as gentle as a mouse—you see, in my youth, I was so dainty that–”

She was pulled back by an older man telling her something, her husband. You were quite grateful he had interrupted this little discussion of yours, you were in no mood to be talked down to.

Once she had fully turned around, an arm slid around your waist and pulled you close as a gloved, slender hand held yours up, leading you further from the circle of people. “Correct me if I’m wrong—I could have sworn I saw someone wearing this very mask earlier tonight, and yet it was much earlier than nine in the evening.” The lightness in his voice hinted at the smile he wore underneath that mask, you looked to the side and replied, “How curious indeed, some would find it smarter to arrive earlier than the agreed-upon time.” You then faced him, “Why should one make it easier to be found out, pray tell, Tartaglia?”

“Now, let’s not use that title here.” He whispered to your ear once he had your chest pressed against his. You had to hold back from wrapping both of your arms around him—you could not lose.

“Would it be surprising to these people that the Harbingers are present at a Fatui ball?” You asked sardonically. It made him laugh, your cheeks warming up at the sound while you caressed his hand with your thumb, absentmindedly waltzing without looking at anyone but him.

With his head pressed to yours, he said in a hushed tone, “Playing pretend is much more interesting to them, it has to do with wanting to be the center of attention. They hardly wish to be reminded there are greater people around them.” His hand slowly slid higher to the middle of your back as he played with the fabric, “But enough about aristocrats.”

You hummed, grabbing his hand to pull it away from you playfully, “Could it be you had something in mind? Should I take this initiative of yours as you yield–”

“Childe!” You heard Lumine speak.

In a matter of seconds, you parted ways with him and disappeared into the crowd. Your fun had just started, the real game had just begun and it had to be ruined by your adventurous friend. If she was going to keep him busy with her questioning, you were going to attempt to distract him and have him running back to you.

Looking over your shoulder, you threw him a glance—without even seeing each other’s faces, he knew you were going to do something you would regret and you knew he was seething as you stepped in front of a young aristocrat that looked decent enough. The mask made it so you could not get disgusted by his features, which was a good addition as you paraded around like a bird to have him ask you for a dance. It worked wonders when the man held out his hand to you.

Childe was watching the scene, barely listening to Lumine as he observed how you curtsied to the stranger and let his hand rest where his had been moments ago. To be interrupted in the midst of his fun had him frustrated, but he looked back at the blonde woman who had barely done anything to blend in and smiled as he would often do, “I have no idea who that Childe is, but if you’re looking for a kid, it should be at a home with a nanny.”

Lumine hit him, “Stop messing around, I know it’s you and you know it’s me, I just need intel on–”

Leaning over, the man laughed into the young woman’s ear, “See, I will be kind enough tonight. I will ignore that you outright exposed yourself—because I’m under the obligation of reporting any unwelcome visitors to the Captain.” He leaned back and tilted his head to the side, “The music is rather loud, I didn’t hear you right!” The smile behind his mask was one of pride, utter satisfaction at how her face turned sour, which he could see from the dark-coloured half-mask she wore. “You are back from a long mission—you traveled a lot, is that right? You couldn’t be the traveler, correct?”

Her mouth was now flat in a line, her brows furrowed, “I will be taking my leave. Have a beautiful evening, sir.” With that, she followed her own words and slithered away from him and among the occupants on the dance floor.

When Tartaglia finally turned back to where you had stood, you were gone.

You saw how he frantically looked around the room as you made sure to waltz away with the man from earlier, enjoying this hunt much more now that he was frustrated. Ignoring the few slides of the hand of your dance partner that you had to bring back to your waist, the dancing in itself was not as bad as you had expected.

You hadn’t realized he had been calling you, clearly not used to answering to the name you had chosen for tonight—but you quickly looked back at him and smiled behind your mask. The action in itself seemed foolish considering he could not see it, but it did not matter. “Yes?”

“Has something caught your attention? I do not wish to keep you here if your heart belongs–”

Shaking your head, you huffed a laugh, noticing Childe’s gaze back on yours, “Would you mind spinning me? I find it most entertaining to feel the lightness of a fine twirl, it makes me feel–” You let out a forced giggle when he twirled you once, twice, thrice then brought you close to him, finishing your sentence himself with his forehead against yours, “Beautiful.”

It was hard to hold back the sick feeling you had upon being this close to this man, but you played your role and tiled your head back, chuckling some more, “I’m slightly dizzy, I will fetch myself a drink. Do you need anything?”

He shook his head, “Nonsense! What does a woman of fine taste like yourself wish to satiate her thirst?”

Bringing a hand to your mouth, you chuckled, your face blank behind the mask, “You are very sweet, surprise me. I am rather fond of surprises.”

The man nodded and scurried off.

It did not take a minute to feel his hand back on your waist, his head pressed to the side of yours while you both looked around the room. The music was starting to pick up the pace, your step that had almost come to a halt was now faster, “To dance with a stranger is one thing,” His fingers dug slightly in your side, making you huff a silent laugh of excitement. Your hand tightened on his shoulder, but you did not respond right away. “To choose him over a Harbinger is another. Some would consider it an affront, should they care about things like these.” His voice was light, but so close to your ear that a bubble of intimacy had been built around both of you.

As if it was just the two of you.

“So, perhaps to get my pride back, I should show you which is the better choice between us.” People paraded around you so fast you could not catch their faces as everyone crossed the dance floor in rhythm, “Don’t tell me you were so easily toyed with, Taru.” You whispered to his ear, catching the strangled, indignant sound in his throat.

His eyes sought yours through your mask and met them with determination, “Be careful, we do not know each other, remember?”

You couldn’t help but grin, “Ah yes, the same way you did not know our blonde friend. I will admit, I enjoyed seeing you impatient like that.” You mocked, your hand sliding on his shoulder to touch the collar of his cape. You had never seen him dressed quite like this, but the first thing your body needed was to be fucked on that very cape that he wore with such pride and duty. You wanted to know it had been stained by both of your desperate needs to be together. You wanted the world to see but not understand that this very item of clothing bore the mark of a passionate love that burst like wildfire when you were in the same room.

Such a passion could not be contained, but attempting to tame it made it all the more fun for both of you.

“You blend rather well within high society, my lady. Should I doubt it’s an act and start believing you are very fond of scandal?” He asked teasingly, calming the pace of both your steps as the music melted to a new one, much calmer this time.

“I hear you, I truly do, but I am much fonder of that voice in my head that is screaming for us to be at the center of that scandal.” You said sweetly, albeit the words uttered were anything but.

It was the first time in your very long dance that his step faltered. You made sure to hold onto him as he caught both of you—hiding his misstep by tilting you backward, “Be careful what you wish for, it sounds like you are quite literally falling for me.” He whispered against your mask. You heard the low hum of people gasping at the gesture he had made—all but good things.

When he brought you back up, he held you close with his face against the side of yours once more, “But here is your chance, sly fox. All eyes are on you, what is your next move?”

You were not as fond of their gaze on you as you thought. You had been an actress of the night, a shadow that acted without anyone noticing—because most watched the light without realizing it birthed darkness.

With your lack of response, he asked again, “The people are waiting on our next move, what should we do?”

“Turn me, make them swoon.” You scoffed, blaming your request on the people, but it was you who wanted it. You wanted to stay longer in his arms, maybe even for the crowd to feel there was something between the two of you.

As he did your bidding, you watched the world spin, faces passing by rapidly over and over again before everything stopped and you could only see his mask looking down at you. Your eyes still trying to stabilize, you chuckled upon hearing their cheers, “I suppose my attire is well suited for twirls, it’s rather–”

“Of course, far from you the idea of them enjoying your grace rather than your dress.” He said with a roll of his eyes, mocking you.

Squeezing his shoulder tight, you felt your chest warm up but roughly said, “It played a big part, and… and–” You caught yourself losing your words, finding your throat constricted in embarrassment at his compliment. Clearing your throat, you quickly covered, “I meant to say that you are very handsome tonight, it would also bring their attention–”

“I can’t hear much of what you’re saying, I’m still stuck on your little mishap.” He was grinning behind that foolish mask of his, you could hear it. You wanted to defend yourself, but found it would only push your embarrassment further in. He took it as an opportunity to speak up, “Will you excuse us, the lady is rather exhausted from the dancing. We shall retreat for a bit.” He told everyone.

If you thought you would be discreet tonight, he had other plans. It was odd considering no one knew of anything you had going on, not even Lumine.

With a polite move, Tartaglia offered his arm towards you for you to take and you did, holding onto it as you walked to the side of the dance floor. Thinking you would stop by a waiter for a drink, you were about to call one of them over when he stirred you away, still walking.

You were led to a different corridor than earlier this evening. When you could barely hear the music and buzzing of the people, he stopped and opened a door to a room that you soon discovered was a library, “You would excuse this choice of room, let us say someone left a rather displeasing package in the sleeping quarters' corridor.” He said, fully aware of what had happened. You stood in front of him as he leaned against one of the tables, a silence settling slowly.

“Are you admitting your loss yet?” You finally said with your arms crossed over your chest, cockiness dripping from your words.

He gestured with his head towards you, “Take off your mask.”

You huffed a laugh and reached for the knot behind your head, grabbing the loose mask as it came undone, “Are you really that desperate to see my pretty face?” You asked, looking back at him with warm cheeks from how he now stood right in front of you instead of further off by the table. His fingers delicately lifted your chin as his controlled breath could be heard behind his mask, “Look at me—there we go…” He trailed off when you did exactly that, a smirk behind that mask.

He tilted his head to the side mockingly and said, “Are you telling me all I needed to have your guard crumble was flattery?”

Your face lit up in indignation, “I have no idea what you’re saying, but it’s complete nonsense.”

“Then tell me you could go back out there and continue our little game.” He stated, his voice all the more serious even if the words were being spoken with a smile. Because he knew you; you had been playing this game for so long, he knew when you were over. As your eyes darted to the side, he chuckled, turning your face to meet your gaze once more, “Tell me you could play the fool ‘til the bell rings eleven.” His thumb brushed against your lower lip as he pulled at it gently, before mimicking a higher tone of voice in the same slow, almost whispered pattern as he mocked you, “I could never, Taru, my body’s been craving yours ever since you touched me—nay, ever since I watched you walk down the stairs with Pantalone–”

You slapped his hand off and glared at him, “I would never speak like that.”

His voice stern, he asked, “Do you yield?”

Taken aback, your eyes widened but you remained barely a step away from him.

“I do not wish to yield.” You stated, foolishly determined and prideful.

He smiled behind his mask, but you could only see his dead eyes staring at you. “We cannot have you spoiled, thinking you can always obtain what you desire, my little fox, now can we?” His hands suddenly gripped your hips as he pressed you against one of the bookcases, a few tomes falling in the process. Your breath hitched in your throat and he did not miss it, he pounced on it like a weakness begging to be exploited, “There, am I breathtaking?” He cooed.

Your eyes looked all over his mask to find out where it was attached. You wanted to take it off and take in his beauty, but you were starting to grow fond of having him hold the upper hand like this, “Take off your mask, then I’ll tell you.” You smirked, reaching for his head only to have him grip your wrist tightly as he tutted you beratingly, tossing your hand aside to let it drop at your side.

“You’re acting tough, but I wrote the script, I know the asides.” With his face now close to your ear, he smirked and said, “I know what your mind is made of.”

“Then tell me, if you are so versed in my person.” You only now noticed the little bit of skin that was exposed under his collar. You were tempted to pull down his cape and push him to the floor, but something told you it would happen sooner or later, so you whispered back, “If you make good assumptions, I might consider yielding—and if you are wrong, you admit defeat.”

Childe laughed, making your body long for that sound to escape his lips again, “What assures me you will be truthful and admit I’m right?”

You met his gaze and smirked playfully, “Well, don’t you trust me, Tartaglia? I would never dare lie to the eleventh Harbinger, the consequences that would follow…” You teased, tugging at the scarf around his neck and letting it drop on the floor. You heard the annoyed sigh that escaped his lips but he did not do anything. Instead, he tilted your chin up and hummed a moment, “I believe the script went as such…”

He brushed your lips once more with his thumb and in the most seductive tone you had heard from the man, he spoke, “The woman stands against the bookshelf. She is frowning, but she is not mad. She likes the man that plays with her, but he should not know. She is arrogant. Her actions are not thought through, she is erratic.” He enjoyed the look on your face as he read you like an open book. He loved this game you both played not only for that very expression your face bore, but also for the satisfaction of putting all of it out there.

“The man wants her, but is stronger–”

You were going to interrupt him when he continued, “He’s cornered her. He enjoys observing her face after the humiliation of being seen.” Your heartbeat picked up, you could not look away as his gloved hand caressed your hair. You almost leaned into his touch, but held back. You had to keep the little restraint you had left.

“They both know the outcome of this. But none speak of it. One move is needed to reach what they both desire.” He then paused and looked down at your dress before letting one of his fingers hook onto your neckline. “Now, I had a hard time finishing this play… where do you think the script should go? Happy endings are rather nice, but I love letting my muse be free and explore any opportunities.” He leaned back and stood in front of you with an all too confident demeanor, a demeanor that you were keen on, a demeanor that was your weakness. Seeing him retaining his composure.. should someone have walked by, they would have believed you were only being told off, it was so interesting to see.

“So tell me, what will the woman do?” He inquired in a light tone.

You looked him up and down, taking in the sight of his kept attire and hair—finding it all the more attractive that he could contain himself even now. You needed him to touch you, to feel you over and over, until everyone but you was asleep. Until all that remained was both of you in the company of the moon.

As you were about to speak, he raised a finger, “I am a visual learner, little fox.” He mocked.

Clenching your jaw, you lifted your skirts and took off your heels before kneeling on the floor. Unable to look him in the eyes, you said in a mocking sing-song voice, “I yield.”

The deafening sound of his footsteps echoed as he approached you, the tip of his shoes against your knees, “My apologies, I could not hear you over the sound of your pride shattering.” He gripped your chin forcefully and made you look up, your face heating up in seconds as you pushed through the constriction in your throat from the embarrassment.

“How hard can it be, is this not how it ends every time? Hm?” He cooed, splaying his hand on your cheek, caressing it softly, “If you think about it, we both win. You gain the freedom of submitting to me, I gain the power of having you for another night.” He breathed out a soft chuckle, then trailed his hand down to your neck, wrapping his hand tenderly around it as his voice lowered, “So, let me hear you say it one more time.”

“I yield, Taru. You have won for tonight.”

Helping you to your feet with his hand still around your neck, you followed his guidance while he spoke, “And every night prior,” He guided you to a couch that had many blankets laid upon it already, “And the nights to come, I’m sure…” He turned you around roughly and undid your overdress before letting it drop on the floor. Untying the knot of your corset, he then started unlacing it as he continued, “And isn’t that the best way to enjoy it?” Each tug had you closer and closer to being able to breathe again until it was loose enough to slide above your head and be tossed aside. Childe then lowered his head to your shoulder and lifted his mask enough to kiss the exposed skin, “Look at the snow outside, isn’t it a beautiful sight to be fucked to?” He breathed as he pulled his mask back on and turned you around.

“Why keep the mask on? Would it be so bad to be caught with me?” You asked half-jokingly, half-hurt as your hands reached for the button of his cape. Taking the item off his shoulders, you tossed it on the couch behind you, “Or is it a question of power? I hope you are not embarrassed, I can assure you, I have seen you plenty of times panting and moaning my name like the desperate little boy that you are–”

One hand covered your mouth while the other helped the mask off his head, tossing it by your discarded clothes. “Yielding is submitting, what gave you the impression you could speak to me like this?” He smirked, eyes stern but the spark in them showed how entertained he was by the banter. Pushing him even more, you leaned against him and removed his hand from your mouth, “The tightness in your pants—or the growing smile on your face, even.” You stated.

He hummed and gripped your waist, pressing you harder against him as he pushed you to the couch, “The script says the woman will let him do as he pleases, and what he pleases is–”

“Taru, I love the analogy, but this is getting out of hand.” You chuckled.

Laughing, he kissed you without missing a beat. Both your hands cradled his face as you deepened the kiss, moaning into it, trying the best you could to have him closer but this was all you could have. You could not fuse, you could only enjoy one another’s touch.

“Do you believe I could have you scream loud enough for your voice to carry to the ballroom?” He asked teasingly and out of breath.

With your makeup slightly ruined, you pondered theatrically, making him chuckle, “I am convinced you will try, but sometimes you have to accept defeat. If you wanted people to hear us, you should have invited them.” You joked, but his face seemed to consider your words for a second. You splayed your hand on his cheek, making him turn to you, “I am being ironic, do not–”

“Did you think I would share my well-earned—my deserved—meal? Let them starve, let them miss out.” He then corrected himself, and pried your hand away, kissing down your chest, “Not that they would know they’re missing out,” another kiss, “They have never tasted you,” and another one, this time after pulling the sleeves of your underdress off your shoulders and exposing your breast, “They’ve never felt you around them.”

He then looked up at you, “And they never will.”

Carefully, you reached for his hair and brushed it back to make him look at you, “You should make sure of that, I tend to forget it after such a long time of not seeing you.” You teased, his eyes widening at the challenge that had been given to him. He immediately took his gloves off, prying your hands away from his head. He held your legs above his shoulders, making you gasp in surprise at the suddenness, “We shall blame your heels, should you not be able to walk straight in the morning.” He teased back, a mischievous smile on his lips.

Just like that, he disappeared under your skirt after getting rid of your underwear—in seconds, his tongue was between your legs, skillfully playing with your clit as his hands kept your legs spread apart.

“Yes—yes of course, the heels, no—ah, no other reason.” You said between small sounds of pleasure that escaped your lips. You felt the rumble of his laugh down your lower stomach as he gently lifted your thighs more to rest them on his shoulders, freeing his hands. You slid up onto the couch slightly, gripping the cushions for support and felt the need to chat—it felt empty without his talkative attitude. “I will let you keep this up only because you seem confident in what you are doing, Tartaglia–” Your calling of his name turned into a moan when you felt him bite your thigh in a way that made you understand you should be keeping your mouth shut.

With your head lolling back, you laughed breathlessly, “What is it?” You teased, “Relying on violence to make yourself—obeyed?” You managed to utter between contained moans. The pressure on your bud disappeared as a new sensation joined the game. You felt his fingers slowly slide inside you as he hummed under your skirt, his warm breath on your wet skin making you shiver. “Now, what violence am I relying on, little fox?” He coed, helping the skirt off his head to look at you with a mocking smile, “Am I hurting you? If so, I should stop–”

Your hands flew to his own that was about to slide out of you; you gripped his wrist tightly and shook your head, your hair already disheveled from pressing back into the couch.

“Mm, I cannot wait to have you begging for me.” He whispered lovingly. His free hand reached for your face as he gently touched your cheek, “I just need a little bit more time to have you crumbling in my hands, alright?” His eyes were now looking at you with adoration—both of you unaware of how deeply he enjoyed your presence, your entire being, both of you ignorant to how much you needed him and wanted to be with him.

This was a game, nothing else. Right?

Chuckling, you grabbed the sides of his face with both hands and leaned to kiss him, tasting yourself in the process, “I am more than capable of having you desperate to have me–”

“What you are capable of does not often align with what you know is good for you,” You let go of him from the little gesture that made you understand what he wanted, then he kissed your still-covered stomach, then your thigh as he went back between your legs, “That’s why we are in this position every… time…” His voice lowered as he did the same.

His eyes met yours one more time, mischievous and knowing, “And Archons know it will be good.”

You quickly tilted your head back to hide how much you enjoyed him like this, how much his promises got you aroused, and how willing you were to let him do as he pleased with your body. He was aware you were comfortable with him, but he was still ignorant of just how far he could go.

As he started thrusting his fingers inside you, you covered your mouth to hide the moans that were threatening to escape.

“It should be somewhere in here–” You heard a deep voice open the door, muttering.

The speed at which you grabbed the cape from under you to throw it on the now skirt-covered form of Childe had you amazed. You tossed the cloth over him and wrapped your legs around his back to get him closer to you and the couch so it wouldn’t seem too odd.

“Your face…” You heard him whisper before feeling his tongue back on your clit.

Panicked, you grabbed his mask that was not too far on the couch and held it to your face—it was fast enough to hide yourself in time as the man walked by.

“Goodness, you scared me.” You gasped in a too-high pitched voice, not only from the pleasure you felt but from needing to act coy around those fools.

The man looked at your cape-covered legs; you immediately caught his attention back by asking, “What could you be doing here while a ball is happening?”

“I could ask you the same, my lady.” He quirked a brow. You were grateful for the mask that covered your face when you clenched your jaw to hold back a loud moan. The man between your legs had fervently resumed his actions and was now curling his fingers inside you while his tongue lapped over your sensitive spot.

“Can a lady not unwind in the midst of a fantastic ball? Those masks are rather dreadful and hard to—ah, breathe with.” You panted in the middle of your sentence, swearing him off in your head.

The man standing in front of you remained there for a moment, his eyes squinting at your mask, “Have we talked this evening? I am sure I would have remembered had I enjoyed a conversation with you… but I must be certain—your mask…” Seems familiar, I am sure of it, you thought.

“Please, no need to waste time on flattery, I am taken.” You stopped talking, gulping down to hold back a groan then started fanning your face with your free hand. “I am convinced my husband—would not appreciate it if he learned,” A longer pause this time, you were smiling knowing it had a certain effect on him from the pause in his ministrations. “If one of his men started acting friendly—towards me.” Immediately taken aback by your words, the man straightened his back and shook his head, his hands in front of him in a sort of defense.

You gestured for him to leave, “I am sure it was an accident, no foolish man would make any advances on one of the Harbingers’ lovers.” You smiled sweetly, but he could not see it. However, you knew his eyes had widened as he turned around and quickly apologized before rushing out of the library.

The moment the door closed, the cape flew out of the way. Childe immediately stood up from between your legs to look down at you with hunger in his eyes as he removed a few layers of his attire. You looked at him with a hooded and proud gaze upon being able to get a rise out of him so easily.

As he undressed, you partially held your breasts while continuing what he’d started by fingering yourself, “What could have gotten you so worked up, Taru?” You pouted mockingly, knowing full well what had done it.

The shortness of breath in his laugh had an effect on you. Your eyes could not be torn from him even if your life depended on it, much less so after seeing him run his tongue over his teeth while taking his shirt off. “Taru. You are unbelievable—do you understand I do not find this funny?” His tone had lost its lightness, which made you wonder why he was still undressing, why he was continuing this game of yours.

He shook his head and told you to turn around. You frowned and stood up, reaching for his face but he grabbed your wrist and stopped you. “For you, it might be a game, little fox. And I would understand if you wanted just that–” He clicked his tongue, “But to openly play with my reputation, mocking me in the process? There are indeed things I do not let slide.”

“I’m sorry? No, there is a misunderstanding, I was not—Taru, can you please look at me?”

His jaw was clenched, his grip on your wrist tightening for a few seconds before he let go and walked past you to sit on the couch, annoyed.

You remained at the same spot he had left you for a moment, thinking of what could have happened to have him react in such a way. Everything was fine until the other man interrupted you. Something in the words you spoke must have ticked him off, so you repeated them in your head over and over, trying to understand where the mockery had settled when the realization came to you.

Your eyes widened as your face warmed up; with an arm covering your chest, you turned around and patted his hair gently before tilting his head back and looking at his hurt face, “Could this be a misunderstanding?”

For a split second, his eyes softened only to harden immediately, pushing your hand away, “Those words–” He started, you pushed his shoulders and straddled his lap with your knees on each side of him, supporting your weight on the couch. “Those words were not mocking, Childe.”

You couldn’t look him in the eyes and opted to trace the freckles on his torso delicately as you continued a bit more shyly, “I will admit, they slipped out of my mouth in the heat of the moment.” You hummed to yourself, “I wanted to see how you would react, I thought you would enjoy hearing them, I wanted you to enjoy.”

He huffed, “So you did this for me? You knew all along that…”

“That I had feelings for you? Yes.” You sighed, about to put your dress back on, until you felt his hands stopping you. Your heart was beating all too fast for your liking, but you continued, “I suppose I–” You paused, “I am truly unsure of what I thought.”

There was a brief silence, “This game we play is what I believed could be the only way for me to have you, even if it is but for a fleeting moment. Even if it is but for a few hours on a fine evening.” You smiled sadly to yourself and ran a hand on your face, attempting to get a hold of yourself. “Do not get me wrong, I enjoyed it thoroughly each and every time—I suppose what I am trying to say is…”

“That you want more?” He asked, his voice barely audible. Looking up, you met his gaze and saw how soft, if not emotional, he had become. All you could do was nod. His hands let go of your dress and instead held your thighs as he drew you closer to him, a growing smile on his lips, “I will admit, my insecurity got a hold of me and I believed you were mocking my own feelings towards you.” He chuckled, his gentle fingers caressing your skin while his head fell slightly, sheepishly. It was a look you had never had the occasion to witness on him, but found it most endearing. Then the meaning of his words dawned on you and all you could do was kiss him, a kiss he returned briefly before you both had to part ways.

Like two young fools in love, all you could do was laugh slightly at first, embarrassed, before it grew into an open laugh, your hands now holding his shoulders. This felt different from all those times you laid in bed together, from all those times you kissed and enjoyed each other’s bodies.

“Then perhaps I should call you my little fox. You see–”

“Or you could call me my love, I could very much get used to using an endearing term rather than Taru.” You said with more confidence now.

With a slight pout, Childe grabbed the back of your legs and hinted for you to lift yourself up, which you did before letting him lower you onto his cock. He smiled in pleasure and so did you at how good it felt, then he spoke, “You are the only one calling me Taru, I have grown fond of it… my…” He seemed to think before fully sheathing himself inside you and breathing out, “Mine.”

You grinned in pleasure and breathed out, “My mine. That sounds pretty endearing, you are right.” You teased, making him groan.

He rolled his eyes and started thrusting inside you to stop you from talking. It worked well enough since you rested your forehead against his and moaned out a proud laugh. He couldn’t get enough of it and hardened his thrusts, to elate more of those sounds from you. “Give it time and I will be fucking you as my wife.”

The gorgeous sound of pleasure escaping his lips, the promise of his words, the feeling of his cock—you let out a whine of pleasure and continued fucking yourself on him. His grin had you even more aroused when he watched you bounce on his lap, disheveled, all but graceful, you were sinful.

As he looked at you, he couldn’t help but bask in your being.

You were what many wanted but few got, what all deserved but even fewer earned, what was promised but so hard to give. You were the love he so desperately craved, yearned—the love he had longed for.

“No rush—I would be more than happy being—ah, your lover in the meantime.” You panted, barely letting out words in pairs as you spoke, unable to focus on talking from the growing pleasure in your lower stomach.

Childe moaned as he kissed your chest, his teeth grazing your now sensitive nipples from his gentle biting, “My lover, my traveling partner, my companion.” He whispered, his voice more and more strained from how close he was getting. The crack in his voice had you weak as your nails dug into his skin. You nodded, mouth open from how heavy you were breathing. You couldn’t form any sort of sentences, your mind too high on the bliss he was bringing you.

“Archons, you are drooling from just my cock, my mine…” He said contently, almost proud to see the embarrassing state he had you in. One hand remained on your clit while he pressed his forehead to yours once again. His free hand wiped off your drool as he pried your mouth wider open with his thumb, “All dazed, my beautiful woman is on a cloud.” He commented teasingly.

You mustered a roll of your eyes and were going to pry his hand off, but instead simply held it there, “I’m close.” You uttered. With his thumb pressing on your tongue, your speech was not clear but he had understood.

He smirked and gently tilted your head back before cooing, “Then lay back and we shall finish this—there we go, Archons, you’re so fucking hot laying on my cape.”

From his lack of movement, you managed to look at him, “Since I noticed you had a cape, I have been wanting to ruin it.”

He laughed, placing himself back between your legs, “Is it not a pretty cape?” he asked in fake offense.

“I simply believe it would look better with both our essences on it.” You doubted those words and they perhaps even died in your throat as he thrust inside you once more. He was panting heavily, his hands gripping your legs in place as he rested them over his shoulders and enjoyed the sight of your hands desperately gripping the couch, your mouth, the couch, your mouth—you did not know if you wanted to deafen your loud sounds of pleasure or if you needed to hold onto something, anything, for balance.

“Fuck, you look stunning like this, I want to make you cum but—ah, I need to hear the magic words!”

A hand flew to his hair, your fingers threading through it, “Please, please Taru, I need to come, I’m so close, so close, so…” You were repeating it over and over as you felt his pace speeding up, one hand joining back on your clit. He felt your walls tighten around him as your back arched and your hand clawed at the couch. Loud, throaty moans flooded from your lips, some deeper, some higher, he didn’t care. He was seeing you raw, vulnerable, weak, he loved it. He loved you, he truly did.

The light of the moon was illuminating your sweaty bodies and he thought for a second that there hadn’t been a better sight than this one until your eyes opened and met his—one last whine ripped from your throat as you came around his cock. The view had him finding release seconds after you, his thrusts slowing while his fingers held onto your thighs for dear life.

Once you had both been able to catch your breaths, he pulled out and took one of the blankets from the couch before draping it over the both of you as he lay next to you.

“The ball is still going on.” You whispered, your hand finding his chest to be the most interesting thing right now, more precisely his freckles. Grinning, he tilted your head to look at him, “Meaning you wish to go dancing?”

You smiled sweetly, “Well, according to the program I received from–”

“From me, it says that if we are still physically well enough–”

“I am more than physically well, I…” You raised your hand high, laughing through your nose, “I can raise my arms, which is a good thing so far.”

The man hummed melodiously, his arm reaching to thread his fingers with yours high in the air, “I was more than gentle,” He then brought your hand down to his lips and kissed it, looking at you with adoration, “Which could be fixed, should you feel ready for another round of fun.”

You kissed the back of his hand as he did yours, lifting it above his head and against the pillow as you went to straddle his thighs, the blanket sliding off the both of you. You couldn't care less for your dress that still pooled around your waist as you kissed him with a grin, bringing his other hand above his head, “I wish to dance with you as my lover, is it too much to ask for?”

With eyes colored with mischief, he smirked and whispered against your lips, “It could be, if you keep pressing against my cock like this.”

“Like this?” You mocked, rolling your hips again.

When he tried to grab your hips, you rolled off him and onto the ground, laughing loudly before struggling to your feet, almost stumbling in the process. He tried to grab you but you pushed him back, sliding your arms into your sleeves while you hurried away from him, “Oh, to have a Harbinger struggling to come to his feet!”

The little time you looked away from him was enough for him to disappear and reappear behind you, his arms caging you, “What was it about a Harbinger?” He breathed down your ear, a smile on his lips.

“I will not concede this time, Tartaglia.” You spelled out, your hand reaching behind you to touch his face, “Would you like to know what my alias was this evening?” You asked softly, perhaps too proud of the name you had found. Your lover let you slip out of his grasp and looked at you expectantly, lovingly, excitedly; he hummed inquisitively as he stepped aside to get dressed once more, “I feel it will be interesting, go ahead.”

“Vittoria, not only because I was dead set on winning–”

“Which did not happen, continue.” He interrupted, throwing you a teasing smile while he buttoned his shirt up.

You rolled your eyes and tried to slip into your corset while struggling to say, “And because she was one of the lovers in, you know… the inspiration behind your chosen names among the Harbingers?” You finally slipped your corset on, then felt slender fingers trail down the fabric. You tensed and tried to look over your shoulder, but were immediately forced to look forward as Childe turned your head. “No, keep going. Tell me more, I will play the fool and ask why you chose that very name.” You heard him smile as he pulled at the lace of your corset, cinching it as you let out a gasp from how tight it was. You signaled over your shoulder for him to undo it slightly, which he did, prodding you to explain.

“It is as evident as the word is, Taru. What else should I–”

“What else should you tell me? Well, your every thought behind choosing this name! Some would go with fancy names, you chose one that aligned with me.” And he knew exactly why, after all, all that happened moments ago was not insignificant. You had both been open with your feelings, but part of him sought more concrete evidence, or perhaps he was teasing you. He was unsure because admitting the former would mean accepting his self-doubt.

Feeling your face warm up, you looked out the window, “Well, simply because…”

He waited, you had to continue.

“Because! Because–” Pull, tight. “It was enjoyable for an evening–” Pull, tight. “To run around, somehow claiming—ah!–” Chuckle, pull, tight, “The title of your lover. None knew, but I did.” You explained rapidly, gasping out a moan when Childe pulled one last time, melodiously singing under his breath as he tied the lace and pulled you by the waist against him, “Then we shall do it so that everyone knows, would it be even more enjoyable to you? I will admit, I truly wish to see their faces when I announce you as my partner out there.” He swayed you by the hips gently as he talked, his head resting against yours.

You scoffed and pressed your head back against his, “To have a bounty on my person, I cannot wait to see the exciting life to come!” You joked, making him laugh as he tutted you, “No one would dare touch you, and even so, how could they? I am never leaving your side now.” He stated, kissing your cheek from behind before turning you around and placing a mask on your face before you could kiss his lips.

“So let’s!” He grinned, tying the mask behind your head before letting you walk ahead of him, putting on his mask before joining you.

It took you a moment to realize what he had done, but it was all too late to fix it. As you stepped inside the ballroom, arm hooked onto his, you looked straight ahead and spoke loud enough so he could hear, “Did you do it on purpose?” You asked, unable to contain your smile.

“I would never dare!” He exclaimed, leading you to the dance floor.

“My mine, who would be foolish enough to confound our masks?” You asked lightly, grabbing his hand and placing your free one on his shoulder.

His laugh carried above the music, it was contagious. As you both laughed, he leaned in and whispered to your ear while crossing the floor, “But to see Lumine’s face, will it not be priceless?” He asked rhetorically, more amused than anything.

Your eyes widened as your grip tightened, “You will be the one doing the explanations, I cannot even begin to tell her–”

“That you are a liar in love?” He burst out laughing.

You held back from hitting his shoulder and instead opted for silent dancing.

But it was true, you had lied to Lumine and you had lied to yourself for long enough about your feelings for Childe. So perhaps tonight was more than an enjoyable night, it could become a freeing night. A night of honesty.

Ah, who were you fooling? You were more than happy to not have spotted Lumine for the rest of the evening—part of you wondered where she had gone and if she was expecting you at the inn…

But the smarter part of you simply closed your eyes and held him tighter under the covers, there were more important things to think about. Like the feeling of your hearts thrumming against your chests, trying their best to be closer than you already were—a well-paced rhythm that as time went on started beating simultaneously, in perfect synchronization, like a flock of birds.

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