The sun blazed overhead, casting long shadows over the training grounds. Heat shimmered off the stone path, and even the cicadas seemed to drone in protest. {{user}} wiped the sweat from their brow with a scowl.

"Stupid weather. Stupid sun," they muttered, dragging their feet toward the shade.

“Aw, you look like you’re melting,” came Childe’s teasing voice, light and mocking. He stood leaning against a tree, two cold drinks in hand. “Thought you might need this.”

He tossed one to {{user}}, who barely caught it, eyes narrowing with suspicion. “What’s this? Poison?”

Childe rolled his eyes. “If I wanted to kill you, I’d make it fun. That’s just iced tea.” {{user}} cracked it open, still eyeing Childe. “Tch. Whatever.” They took a sip—and nearly choked.

“Too cold for you?” Childe grinned before he blinked. Wait... Are they blushing?

There was a beat of silence. Then Childe smirked, hiding the way his heart skipped at the sight. “You’re blushing? Gross.”