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gumilac · 2 years

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⁍ pairings. childe x reader

⁍ genre. modern/university au, mutual pining, fluff, angst if you squint, childe is called ajax

⁍ warnings. food, swearings, scaramouche /j

aki's notes. this man has been on my mind– i feel like im cheating on albedo w how much i think of the ginger 😭 also, why are stuff so expensive genshin?!

"well, that was a great meal."

childe leans back on his chair, stretching his obnoxiously long legs, that his shoes almost brush your calves. ignoring the way your stomach did a little flip at the miniscule contact, you lean forward, resting your elbows on the table.

"yeah, what i had was amazing."

childe hums and smiles, "it was, i'm so glad i took a bite."

"you'd might as well eaten the whole thing!"

"my bad," he lightly chuckles, raising his hand to signal for a waiter, "it was too good not to get a second bite."

"four bites," you corrected and he gave you a cheeky grin. the waiter arrives with the bill, handing it over to him. childe scans the receipt, barely reading the contents when he fishes out his wallet, ready to pull out his card when you–

"i'll pay," you grab the booklet from him, looking at the price and ... archons, what were you eating?

"150,890 mora..."

childe tilts his head when you look up to meet his azure eyes. he looks at you innocently, like the price wasn't worth a new apartment.

"yeah, that's the normal price here," he says casually, and you force a sweet smile, as the thought of paying will burn an enormous hole in your wallet. but, you have to.

"i can pay," closing the booklet and placing it on the table. which was a mistake because childe shakes his head and clicks his tongue, firmly saying, "i'll pay." before grabbing the cheque from you.

"ajax, it's fine, i'll pay."

you reach over to the table but he has already slipped in his card and swiftly handed it to a waiter walking by. you groan, all attempts of paying the bill turned futile. slumping back on your chair, you frown at him.

"i told you i'd pay..."

he laughs and leans forward, readjusting the watch that was on his wrist, "look, as much as i appreciate you offering, i did tell you this was my treat."

"but–"

"ah, ah, no buts," he reclines back in his seat and crosses his arms, a hand waving you off dismissively, "it was my treat. no room for discussion."

a huff leaves your mouth, and childe observes you from where he sits. your shoulders are slumped, eyes refusing to meet his, and a small pout found its way on your lips. sighing, childe smoothly takes the chair on your right.

quietly, he dips his head down to meet your eyes, or at least tries to, "please don't beat yourself about it."

looking up, your met with azure eyes filled with concern and furrowed brows. swallowing the lump in your throat, you sit up straight, and his eyes follow you.

"i'm not?"

childe gives you a look that tells you he's not convinced. he had always knew you a litte too well. blowing the hair that fell into his eyes — a habit you found so adorable — childe nods his head at the waiter. a nonverbal communication that tells him to leave the booklet on the table. he reaches over and grabs his card, before setting his eyes on you.

"it is, love," placing his card back in his wallet, "it's written all over your face."

your heart skips a beat. stupid nickname. and, it took everything not to let that same feeling that bloomed in your chest whenever he touches you, spread out on your cheeks as he casually drops the petname.

looking away, gathering your things, as you force a big smile when you look at him. and, he sighs once more.

"i don't feel bad," you lie and sat up straight, "now c'mon."

but as if he can read your thoughts, childe attempts to blow away your worries — which, he does an awesome job of doing, by the way. not that you'll ever tell him. not yet.

"i know that's not true," he quietly says, his eyes serious. he honestly does not know how to convince you right away, or fully, but he tries. he always will. your face slowly drops, as he caught you once again in your lies.

"but, there is absolutely nothing wrong. it is not a crime if you let me pay," his voice is so uncharacteristically soft, but at the same time it's not. because it's the same one he uses when he comforts his younger siblings. perhaps, that's the reason why he's so good at calming down your inner-child. with years of experience, he always knew what to say.

"so, don't ever feel bad when i treat you out. it's my choice to do so and i am more than happy to. so, you're not using me, okay?"

looking down at your lap, you quietly say, "okay... thank you."

while he does feel like you believe him, there's still that lingering feeling of reluctance. maybe he hasn't convinced you fully, but one day. one day he'll reach you.

he then decides that you two reach a compromise. to at least ease that guilt on your heart, until it won't be there to linger anymore.

"if it makes you feel any better," he starts slowly, "then fine. you can buy me anything."

you face lights up, a smile on your lips, that immediately transplanted itself onto his face too. leaning forward, his breath hitches at the sudden proximity, but he quickly brushes it off as he grins.

"really? what do you want then?"

squinting his eyes, he places a finger on his chin to further express his thinking, "hmm, lets see..."

the initial excitement of getting to buy something for him dissipates, like the bubbles of a reclining shore. you deflate, cringing inwardly.

"you want ... ice cream?"

you slowly look at him, and he turns to you, a triumphant smile as he puffs out his chest a little, "yes."

"just ice cream?"

"anything wrong with that?" he says and you shake your head, huffing a little bit, "not really, but like you paid a meal worth a hundred... more, actually."

he nods his head, looking at you a little funny, as if not quite getting the point you intend to convey — which, to be fair. he does not.

you sigh, gesturing at the direction of the restaurant where you came from, "surely you'd want something more to that level, or price range. i don't know, like a watch? a new bag?"

his eyebrows raise, and chuckles, almost folding over himself that you had to watch him for a good minute or so before he finally straightens up again. tears pickling his eyes.

"oh, i may be financially well, but i am not stuck up or spoiled, darling."

seriously? again?

"money isn't everything to me, nor are the differences in the prices that we pay."

"ice cream is just fine," he says genuinely, finally easing the last of your gnawing worries, "perfect, actually."

and it is, he's happy with whatever you have to offer. honestly, just being around you is enough to pay a meal worth a new apartment. or a car, if you're lucky.

looking at childe, then at the shop, then back at him, you sigh. if he insists — which he will, knowing him — you smile up at him then tugged at his sleeve, bringing him over the array of ice creams.

"okay then," you beam up at him, and it took everything in him not to place a kiss on your face. maybe soon, just not yet.

he still has to make sure you felt the same way. he already has that 99.9% chance, but he wants the 1% just to be sure. because he's selfish, a little too much when it comes to you.

— ; next day.

"HE JUST LET YOU BUY ICE CREAM?" he slams the surface, the trays clattering that it sends food flying to litter the table.

"yes...?"

your friend, scaramouche — at least that's what he tells people to call him. his real name is actually better than his silly alias — runs an exasperated hand across his face before looking at you.

"I HAD TO BUY HIM A NEW BAG!! THAT DIRTY LITTLE–"

"you did?" your mouth falls agape, before a confused expression falls on your face, "he said it was okay..."

"YES, BUT–" scaramouche gives up at whatever he wanted to point out. the stupid ginger he wants to argue with isn't even here in the first place. "that asshole. he likes you for sure."

you look up, heat flooding your cheeks a little, "he does?"

"yes, he doe– why're you all heart eyes?" he looks at you disgusted, "oh no ... don't tell me you like him too?"

"maybe ..." you bite your lip, a small smile spreading on your face, "maybe, i actually do."

quite near you, something crashes in the cafeteria, the same time you let out the whispered confession. it's as if the subject of this conversation was eavesdropping.

sure enough, behind a pillar, childe suppresses the big grin on his face as he overhears your conversation. his chest is hammering, the blush in his cheeks deepening.

and, as if for the first time, this feeling right now as he ruffles his hair, leaning on the pillar. would be exactly like that day he won first place in archery, for the harbingers — the school's official sports team — but even better.

after years of pining, it finally seems like he got his 1%.

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