childeishly | 🍒 popdrop; inbox.

[ just this face… because what else is he supposed to say to that. gdi, snow, c’mon! ]

I think I'm perfectly content with our animus, however.

[ which is an answer of... sorts. ]

…tch. [ he’s over having this conversation. ] I’ll have you know we don’t target you for reasons other than just a team to pick because there are other we can’t. Play however you want. We’re going to continue doing the same. [ he starts walking off. ]

Very well, I think we can work with that.

[ he stills as he starts to walk away— and then sways back a step despite himself, looking for that chair suddenly. ]

Try not to drink yourself to death, Snow.

Unfortunately, I’m out of a drink right now.

[ his tone is not quite the put together cadence it just was, and he gives an unsteady laugh before finding a chair to collapse in. ]

I wonder how that happened.

Edited 2021-08-31 14:28 (UTC)

[ shrugs. ] No clue. [ a forced laugh as he walks off. ]

[ bye, right before he really starts losing his composure.

He needs… more wine? Something like that? Either way, he’ll still be close to there, but suffering the poor alcohol while he hopes this fit passes. Turns out, it’s suddenly hard to find strength. ]

[ childe has no desire to hang out in cupcake so he's out most of the day. sometime later he decides, ok, he's not sleeping outside, so he heads back to the cottage - passing the bar - and finding snow still there. ]

...

Seriously...

[ is this normal behavior?

He does prefer to… you know, not be alone. But he’s uncharacteristically slumped on the table, so it’s impossible to see his face. ]

[ is this a normal behavior #butterflymeme ]

[ he should leave him here or throw him into the lake, but instead he sets a hand on his back. ] Snow?

[ instantly, he tenses. No, touch feels good, very good, even if it’s not intimate. He’s in danger.

But he tries to play it off. ]

Hmm~?

[ time to sit up, and hope his dark skin hides the worst of how he’s feeling, and the rest gets passed up to being drunk.

And yet he still feels a strong desire to beg him to fuck him. ]

I thought we had nothing more to say to each other?

[ ignores that question and keeps his hand on his back. ] Why are you still here, ..? I'm assuming you found some more alcohol to poison your system with. If nothing else let me dump you on BonBon's doorstep. I'm sure I'll get blamed if you don't make it home for some reason anyway.

[ stop touching—

No, wait, keep touching. No, wait again—- ]

How courteous, but I doubt that?

[ hard to keep a pleasant facade, actually. He raises a hand to rub at his face. ]

If anything, Zephyr would join me…

[ he trails off, glancing at Childe ]

...and people think *I'm* a bad influence. [ rolls his eyes. ] Get up, Snow. [ or if he doesn't in the next couple of seconds childe is just going to scoop him up in his arms. ]

[ have you met the citizens of mondstadt. he just laughs, ]

Iiiiii don't think I will.

[ he says until he's scooped up? which makes all of his touch issues so much worse, and it literally takes his breath away, so he can't respond immediately ]

Y-You can't be serious.

[ he is, undoubtedly, warm. and the flushing is much more apparent, oops. and when he moves to shove him off, it's like his strength is zapped. weird. ]

[ no, and he’s not the least bit interested in meeting any of them. ] Of course you’re going to be difficult. [ so, yep, scooping him up and… huh, having fought with him a number of times he knows he no pushover, so this is strange. he quirks a brow, but doesn’t push for answers… yet. ]

You seem to like it. [ brushes his lips over his cheek, smirking. ] You’re turning a pretty shade of red.

[ he does like it. he can tell that much, because he almost loses it at the barest hint of a kiss. ]

... Dying extracts a heavy price.

[ he finally admits when his brain starts working again. ]

Put me down.

Give me one good reason.

[ he has so many reasons. he can walk, he doesn't like him, he'd rather stay here drinking, but they inevitably turn towards wanting more touching and less carrying.

he exhales, settling for the first one,]

... I can walk.

[ drops him. ]

Can you though?

[ well, fine. he lands on the ground, landing hard on his back. He asked for that, but-- he starts to sit up, ]

Was that really necessary?

[ sets a boot to his chest and shoves him back, roughly. leans down reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeal close. ] Nothing's necessary. You're flushed, Snow, *why*. From all the liquor, or something else?

[ he stares up at him, pursing his lips tightly, but his defiant look is dulled, and he can't quite master that smug smirk the way he want.

hell, he's practically looking at him with open desire, even though his mouth says something different. ]

You just can't seem to decide if you want to talk or not, can you?

I don’t want to talk… at least not about anything serious. You look needy, Snow. Why’s that, you looking to get fucked?

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