With Tonia's letter comes a present that Childe isn't expecting.
He tears open the envelope, uncaring of ripped parchment, or the tearing sound as he hacks at it, too overzealous. Pages—too many pages because Tonia is wordy and will fill him in on too much— and something else that tumbles into his lap with a little heft. An old block of wood, roughly carved, a terrible doodle plastered over the front in worn, chipped paint.
Childe ignores the letter. Tonia's words can be read at any time, firmly penned into the paper but this gift—
He smooths a thumb around the corner of it, sighing softly. Part of him thinks it's a dream, that it'll disappear when he takes it into hand.
"Ajax?" Zhongli has both the best and worst timing. Best because while he's never confirmed nor denied, Childe knows he can sense his distress. Zhongli will often leave him be but the moment unease settles over his form, Zhongli is at his side with that damnable voice and a gentle hand against the small of Childe's back.
"I—it's nothing." And really, it isn't—not in the way that Zhongli thinks as he watches him, a slight furrow in his brow, eyes old and calculating. Childe nudges him with an elbow. "Honestly. I just wasn't…"
He presents the old wood block, ill-sanded and rough with its grain. Childe digs a thumbnail into the flaky paint. "It's a tree ornament. I told Tonia we cut one down the last time I wrote to her and she sent this back. I… we…" A pause as Childe's thoughts whir.
"If you don't—"
"It's the last thing we did together before I fell into the Abyss. We made ornaments. And Celestia knows I'm not an artist, so this thing looks terrible. It's supposed to be the family but you can barely make out faces. Just blobs. Splotches of paint. It's pretty ugly and I—"
It takes Zhongli pulling him close for Childe to realize that he's begun to ramble. He tucks Childe's face into his chest, pets his hair, and kisses his brow with a sweet touch.
And Childe clings to him, fingers curling into the soft silk of his shirt. He's dressed down, open, and bare, and Childe just melts into his comforting presence. "I didn't realize they kept it," he says. "I thought they'd… We aren't bad off but we're strained. I just assumed that they would've tossed this."
Zhongli doesn't question, he just anchors Childe instead, one arm curled around his waist as they just enjoy the close moment. Finally, he says, "The love of a parent isn't something I've ever known but I would think that despite it all, there are memories they cling to, just as you do."
Another kiss. The brushing back of Childe's bangs as Zhongli pulls away, smiling warmly. "Do you want to put it on the tree?"
Childe looks over at their Yuletide tree already bedecked in tinsel, garlands, and other strange knick-knacks of Zhongli's nestled into its branches.
"Yeah."
The ornament finds its home right near the top.
Childe finds more comfort in it than he thought, those old days creeping back in. And when he tells Zhongli about them, he listens, committing every word into his keen memory.