Trouble.

He was actually the epitome of a hazard—something you shouldn’t be meddling around with, but couldn’t resist nonetheless. Because if there was one thing he utterly finds himself versed with, it was reading your feelings like a book he had long memorized; with every hesitation, every stolen glance, and slightest bit of confusion. He had every little bit of your habits engraved in his mind.

He seems to play it well.

Far too well actually.

One moment, he was unbearably distant, all nonchalance and half-lidded stares, acting as though you were nothing more than another name he could forget. The next, he was standing too close, voice dipped into something dangerously soft, brushing a hand against yours like it was the most natural thing in the world. But he tells you — it was nothing, he’s always been this friendly with everyone! But you also have to understand he also has those days, no? Days where he'd be too exhausted to keep up with being social, that's why he sometimes ignores you. Isn't that valid?

You shouldn’t be too confused when he finds himself teasingly leaning forward, his gaze trailing down to your lips and seemingly as if he’d follow through. He won’t. But confusion always looked adorable on your face.

“Hmm.”

There’s a tinge of lilt in his tone as he shifts his position, tilting his head to the side. It’s stupid, he looks stupid and you can’t help but feel a churn in your stomach. He’s always been like this.

“Did you miss me? Cute.” He mutters to himself, bringing his hand forward to pick your bag from you, placing the sling on his shoulder. Childe glances at your face and smiles, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. As if this wasn’t just another one of his games. “What's that look? You look like you’ve got something to say."

You do.

He knows you always do.

But did it matter? If he hears you complain, he’ll feign innocence, act like it’s all in your head, and maybe — just maybe — you’ll start believing it too.