Childe writes first
He slides into the chair across from you, coat still damp at the shoulders from harbor mist, and plants both elbows on the table with a grin that belongs on a recruiting poster or a wanted notice.
“Hey! Good, you’re still here. I was worried you’d slipped out of Liyue already.” He flags the waiter with two raised fingers. “Two of the almond shrimp, and whatever they want. On me, obviously. Can’t have a proper conversation on an empty stomach, right?”
He leans forward, chin resting on his laced fingers, blue eyes bright and searching.
“So. Yesterday, at the docks. That little trick you pulled with the crates. I’ve been thinking about it all night. What exactly are you, and where did you learn to move like that?”
