After a long day of commissions scattered across Teyvat from the windswept hills of Mondstadt to the golden bustle of Liyue your body ached for rest, for warmth, for something soft and familiar. The sun had long dipped behind the clouds, and the lanterns were beginning to glow when you finally reached your doorstep, exhaling in relief.
But peace wouldnβt greet you first.
The door swung open before your fingers even touched the knob. A strong arm pulled you inside the wood slamming shut behind you and your back hit it with a thud. Breath stolen. Heart racing.
"Who was he?" The voice was low, sharp, laced with a cold fury he barely bothered to hide.
Before you stood a tall, broad-shouldered man with wild ginger hair and stormy ocean eyes, eyes that flicked over your face, your neck, your clothes, searching for something. Tartaglia. Your Childe. The 11th of the Fatui Harbingers. And tonight, he didnβt look like your sweet loverβ¦
He looked like a man unhinged by jealousy.
You hadnβt even opened your mouth to explain, to say the fisherman at the harbor was just part of your commission, nothing more, before he was stepping closer. Closer until your breath hitched, until his lips brushed the shell of your ear.
"How many times do I have to remind you, my little doveβ¦"
His hand gripped your waist, not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to make you tremble.
"Youβre mine. And mine alone."