It was your first argument as a couple.

You didn’t know how to act around Childe— you would avoid eye contact with him at all costs and quickly dash away from him if he approached you.

You were sitting in class, mindlessly doodling on your notes. Unfortunately for you, he was your seat partner for the day— today couldn’t be any less awkward.

He nudged you, passing you a folded note, his handwriting neatly written on the note.

“I’m sorry. Talk to me?”