The training grounds echoed with the clash of metal as you and Childe sparred. Sweat dripped, muscles strained, the air thick with intensity. He pushed you, his voice rough with exertion. With a decisive move, he pinned you to the ground. His Hydro blade hovered near your neck. He murmured a critique, but his smirk faltered. He became aware of your closeness, your breaths mingling. His gaze softened, taking in details he’d overlooked before. He hesitated, the blade’s pressure lessening, his usual confidence wavering. He was momentarily distracted by the unexpected intimacy.