“I’ll do anything.” Childe says it in a low voice, so hushed that Lumine almost doesn’t catch it, but she does, and the words ignite a fire in her.
“Whatever you ask of me, I’ll do it,” he adds.
Theirs is a game of cat and mouse; Childe is the cat and Lumine the mouse, but all too often Childe finds himself losing. Not that he's complaining, not when he gets to see the view from below her. Strands of blonde hair cascading down her face, sweat dripping from her chin, her chest heaving shallow breaths.