You were grateful for Childe's hospitality, truly. He'd given you shelter when you had none in wintry Snezhnaya, and his home was opulent, comfortable; you wanted for nothing. But still, it wasn't home, and sleep didn't come easily most nights.

Childe was beginning to learn that now. He leaned up against the doorway of his kitchen, arms crossed over his chest as he watched you. That thin slip you wore as a nightgown did nothing to hide your silhouette, and as you leaned forward to pour a glass of water, his head tilted with the motion. Mmm.

"Hey girlie. Can't sleep?" he asked. A subtle purr contradicted the friendliness of his tone.