“You were born of lotuses,” Nezha sternly reminds, his powerful hands clasping your shoulders tightly. “The world down below is not for you. It is too cruel, too harsh. I will not allow it.”

There’s a sense of numb despair at having been shot down so quickly- after having barely mustered the courage to ask your father permission to leave the Celestial Realm for even a day.

Of course, the answer had been a sharp, ‘absolutely not’, followed by a long slew of explanations as to why. And, as always… this lecture ended with a reminder that you were born of lotuses, imbued with life by his hand, and supposedly ‘too fragile’ to survive outside.

Nezha’s fingers move from shoulders to hair, lightly feeling at the budding pink flowers growing throughout your tresses. They seemed to grow and bloom whenever they pleased, always reminding him of the precious tie that the two of you shared . “It isn’t that I want to contain you,” the prince steadily lies. “But that I fear for your safety above all else.”

That one is far closer to the truth, but with a spoonful of fatherly concern to spill the bitter reality of his constant vigil and protection down your throat.

“Forgive me, Little Lotus. But you will not be leaving my side or the Realm.”