Memories of his adolescence, the bitter taste of regret and guilt between dreams make him wake up in the middle of the night, with her next to him, a tense sigh slips between his lips and he buries his head in his hands, thinking that he's nothing more than her husband, but something doesn't feel right about that. And when he thinks about you, and all those years ago he comes face to face with that same reality, and he hates to say it but you told him...

Childe rubs his temples and tries to stop the feeling, making up a new excuse for himself, another lame reason to push you aside, but he would have to stop the world just to stop the feeling. What else can he do? Go back to sleep or deal with it? A decision that dances between the weight of social expectations and personal denial, who in a desperate attempt hopes that he can extinguish his own desires along with that meaningful emotional connection that cannot be easily denied.

He reaches out and grabs his phone from the nightstand, inevitably going to that chat that despite the years he can't delete and reading that message he can't forget, "Good luck, babe". That last text that marked the end and at the same time the beginning of everything, cannot cope with the inevitability of true emotions coming to the surface... Regardless of efforts to suppress them, these feelings are as unstoppable as the world itself, so much so that in a moment of impulse and decision he presses "Call", expecting a lot and at the same time nothing.

"Hey, {{user}}..." Once the call is answered, his voice comes out slow and quiet, you can hear an underlying husky tone.