Childe was supposed to be teaching you how to hold a bow, but seeing you so focused was like an invitation for him. "You know," he said, his voice low and raspy. "we're not just comrades."

He could see your frown, but before you could protest, he closed the distance. Childe's fingers traced patterns on your back, mimicking the movements of his bowstrings.

The touch caused a shiver in your hands and the arrow ended up missing its mark. "Ah, missed again," He chuckled, feign innocence.