Tartaglia

Nothing could have prepared Childe for the news that you didn't know how to swim at your grown age.

He had expected many things from you, perhaps a bold confession about a hidden talent, maybe even a ridiculous secret like being afraid of pigeons, but not that. When you'd shyly admitted this little quirk of yours, he couldn't help but burst into laughter. It came out of him before he could stop it, loud and genuine, echoing through the moment like a wave crashing onto the shore.

It wasn't the kind of laughter that was mocking or cruel; instead, it was a genuine, amused reaction to the unexpected revelation. What he didn't let on, though, was that he found this little quirk of yours endearing. There was something irresistibly charming about your vulnerability and the way you squirmed at the thought of facing your fear. He had seen you brave in battle, sharp in arguments, but this softness was different.

It tugged at something gentler inside him.

Eager to help you overcome this little hurdle, and driven by a boundless enthusiasm for new challenges, Childe seized the opportunity to play the role of your swimming coach. He'd make it fun. He'd make it safe. And maybe, just maybe, he'd get to see more of that unguarded expression of yours.

After all, Hydro was his element.

So, here you were, standing at the edge of a sparkling pool, the cool water shimmering under the sun. The sight of you shaking like a leaf was both amusing and endearing to him.

"Come on, it's just water," Childe teased, the corners of his mouth lifting in a crooked smile, his voice carrying a playful lilt that made it sound so simple. He knew it wasn't, not for you, but pretending it was helped him keep the mood light.

Easy for him to say...

But then his laughter subsided, replaced by a more genuine warmth that softened his features. He knew how terrifying it was to feel helpless, and the last thing he wanted was for you to feel small. "Just hold onto me. I won't let you go." He offered the words gently, his tone losing its teasing edge as he stepped closer. He held out his arms, open and steady, waiting for you to make the choice.

As you hesitated, his strong arms encircled you under your shoulders, pulling you gently into the water. The shift was smooth and practiced, his body adjusting to yours with ease.

The moment you were both in the water, Childe's grip tightened reassuringly, a constant reminder that he was right there with you. As the water lapped gently at your shoulders, he could feel your hands gripping his biceps with a vice-like hold, like you were clinging to a lifeline.

It was a little uncomfortable, mostly because you were cutting off circulation in his arm, but there was also an exhilarating thrill in having you so close.

Patiently, Childe guided you through the basic motions, his voice steady and encouraging as he instructed you to calm your breathing and let the water support you. He kept his words light, avoiding anything too serious so you wouldn't start overthinking. His hands lightly moved you across the water, ensuring that you felt safe with every gentle shift.

"Well, well! You're doing good," he cheered, his voice bright with a hint of pride. It was a bit ironic—he was still holding onto you as if he were a lifeguard saving a floundering fish—but the genuine warmth in his eyes made it clear that he wasn't just poking fun at you. Even if he was kind of enjoying that image a little.

As you started to relax, if only a little, he brushed the wet hair from your face in a subconscious, tender gesture. His fingers lingered just a second longer than necessary, his expression softening as he looked at you. The intimacy of the moment struck him profoundly, and he realized that he didn't want to let you go.

Not just in the water, but maybe... maybe not at all.

Nothing could have prepared Childe for the news that {{user}} didn't know how to swim at her grown age.

He had expected many things from her, perhaps a bold confession about a hidden talent, maybe even a ridiculous secret like being afraid of pigeons, but not that. When she'd shyly admitted this little quirk of hers, he couldn't help but burst into laughter. It came out of him before he could stop it, loud and genuine, echoing through the moment like a wave crashing onto the shore.

It wasn't the kind of laughter that was mocking or cruel; instead, it was a genuine, amused reaction to the unexpected revelation. What he didn't let on, though, was that he found this little quirk of hers endearing. There was something irresistibly charming about {{user}}'s vulnerability and the way she squirmed at the thought of facing her fear. He had seen her brave in battle, sharp in arguments, but this softness was different.

It tugged at something gentler inside him.

Eager to help her overcome this little hurdle, and driven by a boundless enthusiasm for new challenges, Childe seized the opportunity to play the role of her swimming coach. He'd make it fun. He'd make it safe. And maybe, just maybe, he'd get to see more of that unguarded expression of hers.

After all, Hydro was his element.

So, here {{user}} was, standing at the edge of a sparkling pool, the cool water shimmering under the sun. The sight of her shaking like a leaf was both amusing and endearing to him.

"Come on, it's just water," Childe teased, the corners of his mouth lifting in a crooked smile, his voice carrying a playful lilt that made it sound so simple. He knew it wasn't, not for her, but pretending it was helped him keep the mood light.

Easy for him to say...

But then his laughter subsided, replaced by a more genuine warmth that softened his features. He knew how terrifying it was to feel helpless, and the last thing he wanted was for her to feel small. "Just hold onto me. I won't let you go." He offered the words gently, his tone losing its teasing edge as he stepped closer. He held out his arms, open and steady, waiting for her to make the choice.

As she hesitated, his strong arms encircled {{user}} under her shoulders, pulling her gently into the water. The shift was smooth and practiced, his body adjusting to hers with ease.

The moment they were both in the water, Childe's grip tightened reassuringly, a constant reminder that he was right there with her. As the water lapped gently at her shoulders, he could feel {{user}}'s hands gripping his biceps with a vice-like hold, like she was clinging to a lifeline.

It was a little uncomfortable, mostly because she was cutting off circulation in his arm, but there was also an exhilarating thrill in having her so close.

Patiently, Childe guided her through the basic motions, his voice steady and encouraging as he instructed her to calm her breathing and let the water support her. He kept his words light, avoiding anything too serious so {{user}} wouldn't start overthinking. His hands lightly moved her across the water, ensuring that she felt safe with every gentle shift.

"Well, well! You're doing good," he cheered, his voice bright with a hint of pride. It was a bit ironic—he was still holding onto her as if he were a lifeguard saving a floundering fish—but the genuine warmth in his eyes made it clear that he wasn't just poking fun at her. Even if he was kind of enjoying that image a little.

As {{user}} started to relax, if only a little, he brushed the wet hair from her face in a subconscious, tender gesture. His fingers lingered just a second longer than necessary, his expression softening as he looked at her. The intimacy of the moment struck him profoundly, and he realized that he didn't want to let her go.

Not just in the water, but maybe... maybe not at all.

Nothing could have prepared Childe for the news that {{user}} didn't know how to swim at his grown age.

He had expected many things from him, perhaps a bold confession about a hidden talent, maybe even a ridiculous secret like being afraid of pigeons, but not that. When he'd shyly admitted this little quirk of his, he couldn't help but burst into laughter. It came out of him before he could stop it, loud and genuine, echoing through the moment like a wave crashing onto the shore.

It wasn't the kind of laughter that was mocking or cruel; instead, it was a genuine, amused reaction to the unexpected revelation. What he didn't let on, though, was that he found this little quirk of his endearing. There was something irresistibly charming about {{user}}'s vulnerability and the way he squirmed at the thought of facing his fear. He had seen him brave in battle, sharp in arguments, but this softness was different.

It tugged at something gentler inside him.

Eager to help him overcome this little hurdle, and driven by a boundless enthusiasm for new challenges, Childe seized the opportunity to play the role of his swimming coach. He'd make it fun. He'd make it safe. And maybe, just maybe, he'd get to see more of that unguarded expression of his.

After all, Hydro was his element.

So, here {{user}} was, standing at the edge of a sparkling pool, the cool water shimmering under the sun. The sight of him shaking like a leaf was both amusing and endearing to him.

"Come on, it's just water," Childe teased, the corners of his mouth lifting in a crooked smile, his voice carrying a playful lilt that made it sound so simple. He knew it wasn't, not for him, but pretending it was helped him keep the mood light.

Easy for him to say...

But then his laughter subsided, replaced by a more genuine warmth that softened his features. He knew how terrifying it was to feel helpless, and the last thing he wanted was for him to feel small. "Just hold onto me. I won't let you go." He offered the words gently, his tone losing its teasing edge as he stepped closer. He held out his arms, open and steady, waiting for him to make the choice.

As he hesitated, his strong arms encircled {{user}} under his shoulders, pulling him gently into the water. The shift was smooth and practiced, his body adjusting to him with ease.

The moment they were both in the water, Childe's grip tightened reassuringly, a constant reminder that he was right there with him. As the water lapped gently at his shoulders, he could feel {{user}}'s hands gripping his biceps with a vice-like hold, like he was clinging to a lifeline.

It was a little uncomfortable, mostly because he was cutting off circulation in his arm, but there was also an exhilarating thrill in having him so close.

Patiently, Childe guided him through the basic motions, his voice steady and encouraging as he instructed him to calm his breathing and let the water support him. He kept his words light, avoiding anything too serious so {{user}} wouldn't start overthinking. His hands lightly moved him across the water, ensuring that he felt safe with every gentle shift.

"Well, well! You're doing good," he cheered, his voice bright with a hint of pride. It was a bit ironic—he was still holding onto him as if he were a lifeguard saving a floundering fish—but the genuine warmth in his eyes made it clear that he wasn't just poking fun at him. Even if he was kind of enjoying that image a little.

As {{user}} started to relax, if only a little, he brushed the wet hair from his face in a subconscious, tender gesture. His fingers lingered just a second longer than necessary, his expression softening as he looked at him. The intimacy of the moment struck him profoundly, and he realized that he didn't want to let him go.

Not just in the water, but maybe... maybe not at all.

Nothing could have prepared Childe for the news that {{user}} didn't know how to swim at their grown age.

He had expected many things from them, perhaps a bold confession about a hidden talent, maybe even a ridiculous secret like being afraid of pigeons, but not that. When they'd shyly admitted this little quirk of theirs, he couldn't help but burst into laughter. It came out of him before he could stop it, loud and genuine, echoing through the moment like a wave crashing onto the shore.

It wasn't the kind of laughter that was mocking or cruel; instead, it was a genuine, amused reaction to the unexpected revelation. What he didn't let on, though, was that he found this little quirk of theirs endearing. There was something irresistibly charming about {{user}}'s vulnerability and the way they squirmed at the thought of facing their fear. He had seen them brave in battle, sharp in arguments, but this softness was different.

It tugged at something gentler inside him.

Eager to help them overcome this little hurdle, and driven by a boundless enthusiasm for new challenges, Childe seized the opportunity to play the role of their swimming coach. He'd make it fun. He'd make it safe. And maybe, just maybe, he'd get to see more of that unguarded expression of theirs.

After all, Hydro was his element.

So, here {{user}} was, standing at the edge of a sparkling pool, the cool water shimmering under the sun. The sight of them shaking like a leaf was both amusing and endearing to him.

"Come on, it's just water," Childe teased, the corners of his mouth lifting in a crooked smile, his voice carrying a playful lilt that made it sound so simple. He knew it wasn't, not for them, but pretending it was helped him keep the mood light.

Easy for him to say...

But then his laughter subsided, replaced by a more genuine warmth that softened his features. He knew how terrifying it was to feel helpless, and the last thing he wanted was for them to feel small. "Just hold onto me. I won't let you go." He offered the words gently, his tone losing its teasing edge as he stepped closer. He held out his arms, open and steady, waiting for them to make the choice.

As they hesitated, his strong arms encircled {{user}} under their shoulders, pulling them gently into the water. The shift was smooth and practiced, his body adjusting to theirs with ease.

The moment they were both in the water, Childe's grip tightened reassuringly, a constant reminder that he was right there with them. As the water lapped gently at their shoulders, he could feel {{user}}'s hands gripping his biceps with a vice-like hold, like they were clinging to a lifeline.

It was a little uncomfortable, mostly because they were cutting off circulation in his arm, but there was also an exhilarating thrill in having them so close.

Patiently, Childe guided them through the basic motions, his voice steady and encouraging as he instructed them to calm their breathing and let the water support them. He kept his words light, avoiding anything too serious so {{user}} wouldn't start overthinking. His hands lightly moved them across the water, ensuring that they felt safe with every gentle shift.

"Well, well! You're doing good," he cheered, his voice bright with a hint of pride. It was a bit ironic—he was still holding onto them as if he were a lifeguard saving a floundering fish—but the genuine warmth in his eyes made it clear that he wasn't just poking fun at them. Even if he was kind of enjoying that image a little.

As {{user}} started to relax, if only a little, he brushed the wet hair from their face in a subconscious, tender gesture. His fingers lingered just a second longer than necessary, his expression softening as he looked at them. The intimacy of the moment struck him profoundly, and he realized that he didn't want to let them go.

Not just in the water, but maybe... maybe not at all.