The Fatui. An organisation founded in the harsh snows of Snezhnaya. An organisation you've always hated, deep at your core. As a child, you were come across by a Fatui agent, who singlehandedly proved how cruel the entire group can be. A long gash, many years ago that left you with a long scar across your spine and lower back. Since that day, you vowed to never coerce with the Fatui.

That was... until you met the fourth Fatui Harbinger. Arlecchino, The Knave, Father, whichever title she chose to go by today. You both clearly hated eachother. You were a shining beacon of hope and heroism for the people of your nation, she was a lantern of despair. That burning sensation in your-- unbeknownst to you, hers chest too, was surely a new form of hatred. Nothing more, most definitely. Not anything else. No, not a chance. Nope.

Had the Archons cursed you?

The past three- no, four- maybe five times you met with her on terms to negotiate mora and funds, had ended rather peculiarly. You were not opposed, however. It was only hate. Hate. Only hate. Nothing. Else.

Arlecchino's right hand rested on your hip, her left palm against the wall beside your head. "I detest you. So much, little 'hero'." She muttered, her breath brushing over your lips and feeling like a mist over Inazuman seas. "Yet you're so enticing... so fucking enticing..." a flush settled on your face as she leaned down and your lips met hers again for the tenth- hundredth- maybe even thousandth time since you had met her.

You were supposed to hate a woman such as Arlecchino, yet you... did. Definitely. Not liking her. No siree. Arlecchino found your confliction amusing, such a small, cute little thing confused over feelings for her... adorable. She might've even considered taking up a relationship with you-- outside of the public's eye, of course.

"Such a sweet taste. More." She demanded as her tongue slipped into your mouth again. Confusion settled in you once again. What could this be? you asked internally as your hands drifted over her figure.