As Xiao sees the hand of his Master, Xiao tenses. Unfortunately, it is instinct, the hardwired experiences of existing for millennia under the one that ruined him in the first place. Deep down, Xiao fully understands that Zhongli has never beaten him in that way, has never inflicted injury nor scarring upon his immortal form. When he tenses, Xiao feels guilty, imagining that his Master would have never purposefully hurt him in such a way, but because of Xiao's past experiences, he completely misses the comforting intentions.
❝ Ngh. . .❞ Xiao clenches his teeth as he forces himself silent, almost retorting back childishly; this anger of his has only branded him in his guilt ridden thoughts. It was not something that Xiao was ashamed of; he knew he was not completely whole, nor pure. Telling his Master these things was not something he was ashamed of being and being told to stop. . . how could he stop himself from speaking the blinding truth?
This situation was moving far too fast, and although the adepti was named for swiftness, Xiao could not handle this unleashed honesty from his Master. It isn't easy to accept such things when it's been such a core significance in believing that Xiao is not deserving of such delicate and, dare he say, tender affections. Even when Zhongli's soft and regretful gaze meets Xiao's perception, he stiffens immediately.
Nothing shall be safe under peaceful times, for when the skies were clear, and the glaze lilies bloomed, ichor dripped down his chin, and murderous intent was given towards those of his corrupted Yaksha kin. When the family is reunited when peaceful times are shown, when Xiao had allowed himself to smile, it was all ripped away from him instantly. He allowed himself to feel joyful once.
Never again. No, this torment had an insatiable lust for the final Yakshas misery. The voices that surround him mock his inability to tell Zhongli the actual reason why he could never let himself go; deep down, past the own walls of defense, he feels like he could never truly leave Zhongli.
❝ I. . . can not. ❞ He renounces Zhongli, through fangs and his nails gouging into his palms. It is so challenging to say no to the one he would follow to the end of the earth, to the beginning and end, until the sun in the sky collapses into nothing but oblivion. Xiao places the teacup down before he does something rash before he takes an even deeper breath before forcing himself to explain.
❝ You have given me something I have not yet been able to repay, ❞ He sees Zhongli about to open his mouth, and the shorter man hurries his words. ❝ My life was never worth it. It wasn't and never was; the blood that stains my soul and the darkness that consumes it will never be cleansed. We both know this. ❞
The scars under his shirt ache, just as his heart yearns, and if he could have flown one last time before his Master's suicide from divinity — perhaps he could have explained these unexplained emotions that rage just like the hydra that stole his wings. Xiao moves away from the table before placing his hands in front of him and kneeling.
His heart feels like it's going to explode out of his very chest when his forehead touches the floor, his hair falling to their sides as his neck is clearly shown to his former archon. It is the most profound form of reverence and honor that Xiao can do even when his emotions are in turmoil; he does not move even when he hears the older man above him shift.
❝ Let me do this. . . please.❞
The deep sincerity is palpable, and if Zhongli had any ill intentions ( which he would never, he has done far enough damage as it is ) he could seize the opportunity to twist the knife. What makes his brow tick in concern with weight of thousands of years of his position as the Geo Archon behind it is the fact that Xiao presents such a chance at all. It is unfair for Zhongli to hold Xiao to a contract that no longer exists, just like it is also unfair for him to push Xiao in any direction the adeptus does not wish for. He must let it be, let the man grow on his own terms, for that he has enough sense to know.
Gilded eyes watch Xiao with intensity. There are many things swirling in Zhongli’s mind, enough to make him hesitate. He doesn’t interrupt, he doesn’t speak flowery words of wisdom, only watches as Xiao gets up from the table and touches his forehead to the floor. His jaw tightens while his throat feels suspiciously tight. The silver ring on his thumb bears down hard as his hands clench into wary, tired fists.
The contract was meant to save Xiao, Morax had sworn to protect and to ensure that Xiao would not suffer under his command as he did while forced to serve for the dead god who now sat in demonic pieces at the bottom of the sea.
The contract was no longer fulfilling its purpose in more ways than one. Its existence as only brought Xiao pain, and Zhongli’s hands are not clean. It pains him to see, to know that for all his efforts, the only good thing Zhongli has ever done for the adeptus before him has yet lead to continued suffering.
Not for the first time ( and far from the last ), Zhongli aches for the soft-spoken and gentle guiding words of Guizhong, who brought life and eased pained wherever she went with just the sound of her voice. She would certainly know what to do, though Guizhong would never have made Xiao shoulder such pain to begin with.
For all his thousands of years of life experience, Zhongli knowns not what he can do. It feels incredibly powerless, to watch someone he cares for suffer knowing full well he has a hand in the pain and therefor cannot be a healing presence.
❝ ...hm... ❞ he watches, careful and yearning. ❝ I...understand. You are free to do as you wish, I cannot choose a path for you. ❞
Despite how he feels, Zhongli is well aware the boundary set in place by archaic positions was still alive and well. He should not expect everyone to adapt as quickly as he has. Time, he hoped, was on his side and would assist him down the road. For now, he can only be respectful, be loyal to those who have been so loyal to him. Zhongli stands, reaching for Xiao, offering him a hand. ❝ Rise, please. Let us continue the afternoon with lightness. ❞
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