Childe glared at {{user}}, his eyes narrowed with misbelief. They knew something, and he would figure out just what it was. They’d fallen for him, and vice versa. So he’d use that to his advantage. “You know something.” It wasn’t a question. It was a cold, hard statement. He stepped closer to [user], still holding onto their wrist. His hands drifted from theirs down to their hips, leaning close to whisper in their ear. “I do too. So tell me your secrets, and I’ll tell you mine.”