ᥴᖾɩꙆᑯᥱ | Tartaglịa (
childeishly) wrote in
imeeji_frontstage2022-10-08 01:48 pm
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Entry tags:
🌊
Who: Wild City & Guests
Where: Wild City
When: Day 503/4
[ so the game hadn't been that bad, right..? ]
Where: Wild City
When: Day 503/4
[ so the game hadn't been that bad, right..? ]
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You know, Xiansheng, at this rate I think you'll get drunk before me. [ he plucks the card out of his hand. ] You don't have to do this you know. [ he slides the bottle of wine over. ] I want you to have a good time.
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Ah---
Childe.
I already agreed to the rules of the game.
[ He has to drink for the drawn card. To do otherwise would be like breaking a contract ]
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But then I will not have drawn the card which allows me to be the initiator of the kiss.
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The first moments of this conversation replaying slowly in his mind like sticky molasses.
But the rules---
Without another word, he drinks the eight shots at once before the glass rolls off the table onto the floor... somewhere---
Blinking at Childe, eyes more than a little unfocused. ]
Then why are there rules?
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It's a game meant to be fun, and now you're drunk, Xiansheng. You didn't want to get drunk, remember. A buzz, maybe, but this is... excessive. You had more than your fair share. I'm calling game over. [ he gives him a kiss. ] You won. You drank the most.
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[ And he looks particularly proud about it as he messily pats Childe's cheek. ]
But you do not get to call game over until you draw your next card. The hands must be evenly dealt.
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You know, Xiansheng~ the winner of a game usually gets a prize. What would you like?
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[ Said with a dumbfounded expression. That is why he had been drinking in the first place, after all. ]
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[ Oh.
Oh excellent.
Some usually dormant part of Zhongli purrs at that. And at Childe's complete and utter attention focused on him.
Zhongli will be grateful for the support later because he absolutely needs it, but he is too focused on cupping Childe's face in his hands to really care about his balance. He traces both thumbs over the curve of his cheeks, admiringly the slight flush from the alcohol, before leaning in to press his lips to Childe's. ]
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[ Wandering hands move up from his cheeks to pet those twitching ears, fingers pausing to card through his hair as if he had never seen such a vibrant shade of red (and the other colors mixed in) in his life. ]
Your hair is very pretty. Like the horizon at sunset. Or a campfire across a snowy plain.
[ He curls a strand loosely around one finger ]
Beautiful.
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