hit ‘em where it hurts ✦ @reqrator ✦ ❛ you mean nothing to me. ❜
"...Yeah?" He shut his mouth around a bottle of overpriced wine; a drink that clung to his lips and colored them in. Tartaglia knew from the start that every sweet nothing whispered behind closed doors were just that: nothing. And he would have laughed in Pantalone’s for face for insinuating he cared enough to think they weren’t...But all Childe could do was keep his head down, feeling his throat close so tight it hurt--
“Would it kill you to lie to me tonight?” He forced out, unsure whether his face grew hot with hurt embarrassment or what was at the bottom of their shared bottle. Tartaglia knew Regrator liked to watch him squirm. He was good at it. And he liked the banker’s attention enough to make a habit of it if it meant having a bed to crawl into at night...He just doesn’t know when he stopped pretending the hands Pantalone put on him belonged to someone else--
“...Please." Childe swallowed hard despite himself. “Lie to me.”
