Since the events in the Golden House, I thought we were getting closer.

Was I the only one to feel that way?

Those laughs, those smiles, those touches of the hand, had I imagined them?

Why was I seeing you, arms linked with him now, as if you were infatuated with him? I thought I had improved, enough to be on your level, away from all the darkness I was willingly bathing in. I thought I had made progress, that I had become a better person, and that was because of you. You had a power over me, you were able to take me where I never thought I would. So why was I seeing you walking away, your figure getting smaller and smaller, without you ever looking back, to the past, to me?

You'd put your arm under his, you'd put your hand on his when he drank his usual tea, you'd smile broadly when he forgot to bring his moras. I could see it. All your attention was focused on him, just him, and only him.

Those sweet words he must whisper in your ear when he leaned over to you, that hand he placed without hesitation on your lower back when he accompanied you into town, those smiles he flashed at you at the slightest opportunity; why did they hurt me so much?

I didn't have a heart until I met you. You rebuilt it, brick by brick, so that I could have feelings again. But what use was it to me now that you refused to be by my side? You gave me back this feeling that was love, that I intended for you. You gave me back the feeling that was fear, that I felt as I thought of you going farther away from me. You gave me back the feeling that was jealousy, towards this man I considered a friend. And after filling that heart once again, you left me. What was I supposed to do now?

Seeing you sitting at this table with him while listening to Yun Jin's famous opera only made my heart crumble. He, who was only focused on you, annexing his whole environment, and you, who were holding his hand while turning your attention to the singer; you looked so happy at that moment.

I, who was near the stairs, ready to turn away from this spectacle that was piercing my heart with thousands of poisoned needles, couldn't however resolve to simply leave. Your enchanting aura still haunted me as the blue of my eyes detailed every single strand of your hair twirling in the soft early evening breeze, and the reflection of the fading sun on your delicate complexion.

I wanted to reach out and knock over the table with the drink on it, to vent my anger and fear that kept sticking to my skin and casting my shadow. I couldn't stand my pathetic state, but I just couldn't change it.

I just wanted to know why this sudden change in behavior. What did he have that I didn't? Was it his millennia of knowledge? Was it his love for contracts? Was it his austere taste in clothing, or his constant poverty?

No matter how many times I asked myself these questions, I could never come up with a decent answer that made sense.

So when Yun Jin's opera ended, and everyone present began to get up and go about their business, my body moved by itself, guided by this perpetual search for an answer.

Without even realizing it, I was already standing in front of you, your bright name coming out of my mouth in a husky tone as if I hadn't spoken to anyone in decades, the intonation almost desperate. Your golden eyes pierced me, looking at me without really paying attention to me, as if I wasn't something worthy of attention.

All it took was one glance from your partner for you to turn back to him after vaguely greeting me. So I stretched my hand, the fabric of my glove gripping your wrist tightly, forcing you to turn back to me, to look at me again, to stay with me as you did not so long ago.

And you turned back to me as I hoped, black pupils now shining under the moonlight that enveloped the harbor in a bluish halo, body stopped in its tracks, mouth half-open in surprise. But the look you were giving me was less surprised than impatient. Impatient at the idea that I would release you, so that you could probably continue your date with him.

At that moment, my newfound emotions were bubbling up inside me, in my rib cage that was far too narrow to contain them all, that was giving way under the pressure. I was tired of having to watch you from afar, of feeling rejected, of not understanding your behavior. So I said what was in my heart, in a voice that was much weaker than I would have liked, almost broken, like my heart in pieces.

"Why? I thought we were getting along, getting closer, having a good time together. So why him?"

Unable to meet your gaze, I just stared at my black boots on the red wooden deck of Liyue Harbor, the apprehension of getting an answer making my bruised heart leap. I wanted to understand, but I knew in advance that this much-sought answer would only hurt me all the more.

"Childe..."

The soft intonation with which you pronounced my name surprised me. It was the same intonation you used to give me in our moments together when we laughed without constraint, without being afraid of each other. This intonation that I had learned to love and hoped to receive every time I saw you. Then I raised my head, to observe your glittering golden irises that always accompanied that unique tone. But that sparkle was no more. That shine was no longer the same. It had been altered, most likely by the man who was behind you at this very moment, his gaze resting sternly on my hand around your wrist.

"It's not against you, don't take it the wrong way."

That gentle voice gave way to a comforting tone, albeit tinged with a touch of guilt. The reason for your guilt though was a mystery. But that comfort did nothing to ease the pain I felt deep in my gut. I didn't want comfort. All I wanted and desired was you, but perhaps that was too much to ask?

"What does he have that I don't?" I heard myself whisper again, but I couldn't stop the words from slipping off the tip of my tongue.

"It has nothing to do with having or not having something," you said quickly, your features subtly hardening in annoyance.

You had enough of me and my jealous behavior.

And I was tired of feeling empty emotions.

So my grip around your wrist tightened, in a vain attempt to keep you close to me for a few more minutes, seconds, or even a fraction of a second. You tried to free yourself, moved your wrist in all directions without succeeding in breaking my hold, a grimace of pain taking place on your seraphim face.

"Childe, you're hurting me," you said, as if you believed that words still mattered to me. If I didn't let go of you, then I would get what I wanted, what I desired, what I now needed.

But a hand came to rest on mine, firm, threatening, imposing me to stop this violent behavior. My blue crossed the amber in a guerrilla war of lightning.

"It's enough."

His deep, steady, wisdom-filled voice rang out, silencing all the onlookers who had gathered around this tense spectacle. This new silence enveloped us, exacerbating a hundredfold the beating of my heart drumming inside me, galloping and hectic.

Obeying an order from him wasn't something I would tolerate. But when he started to crush my hand, forcing me to let go of your arm, I could only give in. As soon as I let go, you began to massage your sore wrist, a now furious look focused on me.

And at that moment, my world fell apart.

I brought my hand to my side, looked away, and muttered a breathy "I'm sorry" in a way that showed everyone that I was aware of my inappropriate behavior.

I was aware of it, and yet my fist clenched of its own accord, externalizing all my frustration at not being able to hold you close to me, at having to see you arm in arm with him, as if you were meant to be together.

I was hurting. My heart was bleeding in my chest. My breaths were labored and jerky as a sudden urge to cry surfaced in me. What was I supposed to do with this heap of feelings that seemed ready to burst into flames at any moment? I wanted to rip it from my chest and go back to being the insensitive person I used to be, but a part of me prevented me from doing so, and instead cherished those emotions that only you had rekindled.

I felt as if all the blood in my heart was escaping from my body, leaving only an empty shell desperate for reciprocal feelings from you. But that irritated look, then upset, that annoyed face, trying to avoid me, that distant behavior that you had adopted, I couldn't do anything to stop them.

So my gaze turned towards the heavens, chin raised so that I could observe this night, a thought flashed through my mind to prove my dismay.

Am I not worthy of being loved?