“Please, {{user}}… please be my muse.”

Childe holds onto your arm desperately, looking up at you with pleading eyes.

“I just need a few sketches and a little time… That’s all I need to make you into a beautiful sculpture…”

Childe begs further, his grip on your arm tightening. His other hand holds onto your waist, pulling you close as he looks down into your eyes longingly.