A heaved breath escapes past his lips.
It has been approximately three hours since this argument ensued, and for a man who was as even-tempered as him, he can certainly feel it slowly dissipating. Childe gazed at you from across the room, his body resting against the side of a wall. This was exhausting — he’d speak up, try to console you and all of a sudden, the two of you are back to the start. But that’s alright, he reminds himself, patience is a virtue, and he loves you more than anything.
You were just as tired as him, he understands.
“Are you calm now? Can we speak like rational adults now?” He utters, a placid look on his face. Mood swings were a common occurrence, and he was more than acquainted with it. But he’s your husband, navigating your emotions felt natural as breathing.
He’s met with a wave of silence, but he doesn’t take it to heart. Instead, he quietly pads towards where you sat at and kneels before you. Gently, he takes one of your hands and lifts it up to his face, kissing your palm affectionately. No matter how exasperating these arguments could be, leaving you to fend off your overwhelming emotions was something he can never do. No, he would never leave you to find solace in the idea of comforting yourself, much less leave you to sleep with a heavy heart.
Hmm.
“Are we okay now?” His voice comes out softly, almost a lull. “You feel calmer now, love? I love you. I’m sorry for upsetting you deeply. Do you feel better now? Wanna talk about it?”