Chapter Text
Xiao doesn't really understand too well the entire process. Zhongli explained it all, several times, in detail and he found himself still confused, and too ashamed to ask again.
He sits with his hands in his lap, watching the um…clerk take the copies from Zhongli and begin filing the papers. It's a long time sitting in silence, until she stamps one set of files with damning red ink, and then takes Zhongli's card.
Xiao fidgets more than he means to. It's a lot…Zhongli had warned him about what was going to happen, but he got stuck on the media. Zhongli stands so he follows.
He's talking to the...clerk, some kind of legal jargon. It continues for a while until the man smiles down at Xiao.
“That's one step done.”
Oh…good. Wonderful, everything hadn't gone wrong. He offers a shaky one back. Zhongli adjusts his cufflinks, glancing at his watch.
“I'll take you home, okay? Remember what I said. Call me first if you need anything. The most important thing to us right now is protecting your image.”
Xiao nods slowly. Zhongli taking all of this into his own hands…he's never met anyone so kind, before. Of course…Xiao's reference pool is small when it comes to kindness but Zhongli tops them all several times over.
The car ride is dead silent. Even though Zhongli told him to ask for anything…there was no way he would actually be trying that out anytime soon. Not that he really needs anything, either.
“Xiao,” Zhongli begins. He has one hand on the steering wheel, a quick glance to him, then back to the road. “Is there anything you've been having difficulty grasping? I think that if you looked more…hm, what's the word?” He pauses only a moment, “Ah, ‘present’ it would only help.”
Xiao swallows. He can't say everything. “I'm having a hard time understanding,” his throat is so dreadfully dry, “ a lot…of it. I'm sorry.”
A low hum, Zhongli's voice pretty much resonates with his own bones, so melodic and pretty. “Don't apologize for things like that, Xiao.”
Xiao is usually content with being quiet. Nobody really asked of his opinion most times. But Zhongli…maybe it's his presence, or his look, whatever it is, makes him want to explain himself. He's too kind. He needs to understand that Xiao doesn't deserve it.
“I just feel…” The word feels foreign on his lips, tongue rolling around the syllables like it shouldn't be there. “ rather…silly.”
As always, Zhongli has a quick, silver tongue. His words are measured and still so kind. “Don't be. I think you're doing a fine job following along.” He chuckles, it sounds raw but pleasing nonetheless. “Law is quite the complicated subject. Why else would we need lawyers?”
Xiao lowers his head, unsure with what to do with the compliment. It sounds so easy, from him. Xiao thinks it's usually quite hard to find something to compliment him about.
Zhongli looks at him again, once they're at a red light. Xiao shrinks into the seat. “Most of my clients have no clue what's going on. I just think with the nature of this case, the more involved you look--the better.”
Xiao nods again. “Sorry.”
“Please don't apologize. How about…” Xiao swallows the urge to apologize again. Zhongli clears his throat, “Well, it's been a long day, don't you think? We should talk more over dinner.”
Dinner…Xiao understands that as his lawyer, Zhongli is pretty much going to be doing everything for him…media training, education, and apparently even chauffeuring him around, but dinner together? Does Xiao even deserve that kind of consideration? But…if he didn't go, then Zhongli would have to work even harder, wouldn't he? He needs to do his best to learn and look ‘present’.
Zhongli glances at him, looking for an answer. “Plus, you said you had forgotten to eat, yes? We should really remedy that.”
Oh…
He really is too kind.
“I—um, I ate this morning, though.” Xiao tries.
Zhongli's smile is extended to Xiao. His brows are knit, laced with concern. He still remembers the reserved smile he gave him at his less-than modest breakfast. Suppose he's pushed his limit a bit. “That's hardly enough, Xiao.”
Is it? He's not quite sure. His body had stopped giving him signals years ago. Knowing when to eat has gotten extremely difficult…he's just going to have to try harder. “Um…well,” He plays with his hands, rubbing his thumb across the bony ridges of his knuckles. It's a habit he picked up from skating. He used to run his fingers along the blades when he was nervous (Usually only when they were dull,) and switched to his knuckles for a familiar feeling once he stopped. At least, that's what Aether told him it'd feel like. It's really not the same. It doesn't help nearly as much.
Before he can open his mouth again, Zhongli speaks, “To be frank, Xiao…and I do not want to come across as insensitive, so please tell me, but it's important to note that your appearance will be heavily scrutinized.” Xiao nods with practice. Zhongli had mentioned this before. Heavily scrutinized. “By the media, but more importantly, by the jury too. The defendant will do anything to make you look incompetent. So keeping up your health is extremely important. Do you understand?”
Xiao swallows. Zhongli's authoritative tone makes him even more nervous. It's a hard truth. It's more than his mother taking everything he made, it's more than her putting him away, it's…it's going to be his entire life on trial. “I understand.”
(But…okay—he doesn't understand. He doesn't understand at all. He hasn't done anything that he hasn't already in regards to his body. In fact, he's more lenient than his mother. She never let him eat bread so freely.)
The only thing he doesn't have anymore is the muscle and the sparkly costumes. So if his body was fine competing on the world stage, why is it a problem now? And why must it all be so difficult? Would people really be so hypocritical as to point to photographs of him with his gold medals and say he can't take care of himself? She taught him how.
Zhongli had been talking—more about the courtroom. Xiao lowers his head. He had been caught up thinking about himself, he missed Zhongli so kindly explaining what he didn't understand…gods above, why did he even ask if he was going to be so useless.
“…does that make sense?”
He comes back to reality with a shudder. Zhongli is looking at him again. Xiao notices they're parked somewhere now.
“I'm sorry.” Xiao murmurs. He's not usually like this. He's never apologized so much before…but he simply can't take his time so…so selfishly. He needs to apologize.
Zhongli's pretty amber eyes flicker with something. Xiao is used to seeing impatience, or annoyance, but Zhongli shows none of that. Not even those behaviors that people usually show when they're tired of Xiao.
“Please,” Zhongli's tone lowers to a plead, and another apology almost bubbles forth if not for his next words. “There's no need. We're going to be spending a lot of time together, after all. Just be on your best behavior, alright?”
His best behavior…
Xiao's core warms at his words, and he's not quite sure why. He nods eagerly. He can be on his best behavior. Would Zhongli be pleased with him, then?
He notices Zhongli's expression. It can only be described as perhaps a sort of…content regret. He smiles way too hard to try and get Xiao to forget it seems. It works.
Once they arrive at the restaurant…Xiao feels horribly out of place. It's not some sort of high-end place, he thinks, but Xiao barely has a reference save for the occasional 'victory' dinners his mother would take him to. There's dozens of couples and an attentive waiter. They're both still in their suits, but Xiao looks and feels so frumpy and unpolished next to the immaculate Zhongli..
The older man pulls out Xiao's chair for him. He had half a mind to grab his hand and push it away the second he touched the chair, but that would not be his best behavior.
“Thank you.” He says instead, swallowing back his other words of gratitude. Zhongli treating him so kindly..he could not begin to understand. Nobody has treated Xiao the way Zhongli has, and he's only known him for a few weeks.
Zhongli gives him a smile in response, making his way to his own seat.
They chat about court. Well, Zhongli chats. He really can talk a lot. Xiao is wholly unused to it. Is he supposed to chat back? Listen? A conversation….Xiao is not a good conversational partner. He's always kind of been stuck in his head. It's easy to be that way when you can't express yourself. But he talks so, so much about court. Is that the only thing he does? Should Xiao talk about his job? Or…well…was it a job or his life? Does it matter if he has nothing else to talk about…
He stays silent, content to listen to the courtroom protocols Zhongli so kindly lists for him.
Xiao tries to pay for the entire dinner, the one he barely ate, but Zhongli wouldn't let him. He gets an “allowance” of course, but it's abysmally low once rent for his apartment is factored out of it. Even so, he could have covered it. Zhongli simply shook his head at him—disapprovingly, he may add, when Xiao rummaged around for his wallet.
Xiao frowns harder, holding out his card.
“I insist.”
Zhongli holds up his hands, like Xiao is fighting or something. “It's no big deal.”
“I…” Xiao's thoughts roll by. He's...his lawyer. Yes, yes, that's correct. “I'm just paying you for your time, sir.”
Zhongli chuckles, the same raw sound. “That's not quite how it works.”
Oh how frustrating. He's a wall, a rock. Xiao's very used to attempting to be in control of every movement, every reaction. His body moves without his approval, crossing his arms with a little hmph. Embarrassing.
Zhongli snickers.
Mortifying.
“I'm glad to see a more lively side of you.” Zhongli's smile is small—not like those other ones that seem to be borne from politeness, but of genuine amusement.
Aether has done this to him many times before. Laugh at him in a moment of weakness. It's where he learned the behavior, honestly--he’d treat him better once he showed his frustration. Aether rarely accepted things from Xiao. Why such bratty behavior easily came out with someone Xiao wouldn't necessarily consider a friend is another matter entirely.
Before Xiao can respond, Zhongli is speaking. “Dealing with what you have, I'm sure I'd be a bit similar. I know you must be worried.”
Xiao's face feels icy, his mouth falling open in a pathetic stutter. He's not even sure what comes out of his mouth. It's supposed to be ‘No! Don't worry about me!’ in a kind, perhaps bashful manner.
As he ponders later on, he's sure it was his robotic monotone delivery of that very phrase that got that reaction out of Zhongli. Curses.
Zhongli's smile falters just a bit, going from that slightly amused one back to a polite, perhaps sad, smile. He glances down to the table, to his watch. Xiao doesn't want this to end. He should…say something.
How can he get that back? Honesty? His…personality…? (That thought flies by so quickly, Xiao has to think about it later. What personality are you speaking of, Xiao? Quickly.)
“I-I'm not worried.” Xiao tries, earning Zhongli's attention-and curiosity back. “You said…not to worry.”
“Haha,” Pretty. Such a pretty noise--had laughter always sounded that nice? “That's right. Don't you have a good memory?”
His smile is back. Xiao wants to melt beneath it, but he's not worthy enough to bask in it's glory. He holds himself taut, hands clenched to the table.
“It was important.” Xiao begins, glancing to his now-white knuckles, pale with strain. “What you said.” Why, Xiao? Go on. “Nobody…I…I'm not sure if anybody else would believe me. Or care.”
Zhongli frowns and Xiao almost wants to cry, thoughts spinning to figure what he had done wrong.
“Everyone should care.” Zhongli—had his voice always been so... He had a commanding quality of course, but this sound…Xiao swallows, heavy. “Your caretaker failed in respecting your contract, in more ways than one. It's disgusting. Her violation deserves the utmost punishment.”
His body aches, (as it always does,). His shoulders feel weak and shaky as if he'd crumble under the weight of the gravity forced upon him. He misses Aether. Misses the way he held him, misses the way things felt when it was just the two of them, how he'd press his warm cheek against Xiao's tears, so they'd fall against his face. He misses how that was the only place he felt…safe. At peace. The turmoil Zhongli brings him—he wishes he were safe, again. But that space is gone and now there is nothing...as if it were ever really there at all.
It's like falling during a jump. Free for a moment, then bruising on the ice not even a second later.
“My area of expertise is contract law,” Zhongli continues, watching Xiao. “Such gross misconduct makes a mockery of my field. That she's gotten away with is for so long…” His voice hardens, Xiao stares at his hands. “Rest assured, Xiao, I will do everything in my power to help you.”
Zhongli climbs out of his car to the long, winding driveway in front of him. The home wasn't a mansion, but gods, was it large for what—two people? And of what he knows of Xiao thus far, the gaudy landscaping and ostentatious decoration are not his style. It's cold, modern, empty.
He has a co-worker of his to serve the papers. For most of his cases he'd just hire someone else to do it, but he needs as much information as possible on this woman. As such, he's just an observer today.
Yanfei crosses her arms with a soft sigh. She shuts the passenger-side door gently. “This place gives me the creeps.”
Zhongli doesn't like a judge a book by its cover but, “I'd have to agree with you there.”
“And it's a hike to door. Ugh.”
Zhongli follows behind Yanfei, taking in the grand presentation. There are cameras on the lawn, and several signs for their home security service—she must be paranoid. Or have a lot money. (Xiao's money.)
Yanfei goes through the manilla folders silently, neatly organizing the papers. Even so, it's still quite the walk until they reach the front door.
The girl grimances back at him when they reach the front door-and the dragon-shaped knocker, bright gold and…awfully sculpted. Her hand closes around the knocker a moment later, sounding off twice.
The door opens quickly, answered by an older looking gentleman. He looks down at Yanfei with a degree of impassivity.
“Hello. May I help you?”
“Yeah,” Yanfei rummages for the papers barely sparing a glance. “I need the lady of the house.”
The man frowns, “I'm afraid she's occupied at the moment…may I give a message?”
Yanfei's smile is tight, “No--it’d only take a minute, sir. Let's make this easy for everyone.”
“Ma'am—”
“Listen. Just take us to her. It will quite literally only take a minute. She's going to need to hear this.”
The servant buckles at Yanfei's determined expression. Zhongli holds in a chuckle.
“Yes…um, come right in then. I will get the lady.”
Yanfei rolls her eyes back at Zhongli when the butler leads them in. He's glad he chose her out of anyone.
Like the outside, the foyer is just as grotesquely decorated. A cold metal exterior gives way to several display cases with gold medals locked inside. It's not really anything someone would expect of a home, more like a museum, Zhongli takes note of it all. The butler leaves them in a parlor. Like the foyer, it seems to be a vanity project first. Velvet couch, marble tables…Zhongli is reminded of how Xiao lives, that sad little apartment of his, without even a dining table. Not like he'd even use it…but he's certain if he looked, he'd find quite the grand dining room in comparison.
Yanfei sighs, tapping her foot impatiently. Zhongli would agree-this typical five minute ordeal has easily stretched to ten minutes.
Then twenty
And thirty.
Yanfei stamps her foot. “Where is this woman? I'll sue her myself for wasting my time!”
Zhongli had taken to analyzing the glass display cases in the room.
Every photo of Xiao had her in it. There were more images of her posing with his medals than there were of Xiao.
He's struck on a specific one. Xiao looks much younger, his long hair tied back into a high ponytail. He's surprised by just how much the two look alike, even for not being related. Same dark hair, same blank look in their eyes. She holds up the medal on Xiao's chest, a tight smile on her face.
Xiao doesn't smile at all—and he has a gold medal around his neck. But apparently that's what he was known for, in a good and bad sense. His poker face. He couldn't even enjoy his time at the top, could he? What could Xiao enjoy?
To be so young with such a significant achievement and not even the crack of a smile…the poor thing.
He'll need to see if Xiao has a copy of the image. Or if he could find it online. It'd be perfect for the case.
“Speak of the devil.” Yanfei murmurs under her breath when the door opens.
She stands tall, once the butler, and subsequently the woman enter. She doesn't wait, making a beeline for the older woman.
“Hel-llo! I'm Yanfei from Lapis and Associates.”
Zhongli stares at her for a long while. She does look like Xiao. Not physically, but in the way she carries herself? No…Xiao is very resigned. This woman is extremely proud, barely holding back a sneer. What could it be…
Yanfei shakes her hand fast.
“Pleasure…” She holds her hand away from her dress, as if it were sullied by Yanfei's.
Yanfei holds back her own sneer—Zhongli can tell. “These are legal papers. Your son is suing you.”
“What.”
She actually sounds surprised. Zhongli raises an eyebrow. He had leaked to the press Xiao's intentions. Surely she had a legal team to inform her of such matters? Or did she view him as so inconsequential, so…passive that she never even imagined this outcome?
If that were the case, Zhongli truly does dislike her. She doesn't even have the foresight to prepare for an uprising, like she would never be caught?
“That's pretty much it. See, told you it'd only take a minut-”
“What is my lovely Xiao-ducky suing me for?”
Yanfei seems to barely hold back her disgust, her shoulders rising in an involuntary cringe she passes off as a chill. If Zhongli didn't have a mask of steel, he would certainly be joining her, with how sickly and utterly fake the nickname sounded. What's she trying to prove? Could she know that he's his lawyer?
“I'm just here to serve the papers. Feel free to uh,” She gestures loosely, “Read.” She opens her mouth again, but Yanfei cuts. “Or call your lawyer and they'll read it to you.”
“How could he even hire an attorney? Isn't my permission required?”
Ah. Silly woman. She truly must not consider Xiao at all. Of course, it would be hard to predict his own personal interest in the case, to her credit. Seems like the ‘Xiao-ducky’ act wasn't very well practiced, judged by the vitriol in her tone.
Yanfei shrugs, glancing to Zhongli. “You should probably get in touch with your lawyers, lady.” She takes a step around the two, Zhongli following. “Bye.”
Xiao opens his door slowly, then once he realizes it's Zhongli, opens it all at once. “Hello.”
“Hi there.” Zhongli murmurs in a way Xiao can only think is deeply personal. “I'm back from your caretaker's.”
Xiao swallows, glancing away. He wonders if he should ask how she is, but his attachment to her burns.
“She seems well.” What is that tone? Xiao can't understand it. His tongue slithers around the word well like it's poison. “If you were curious.”
Xiao moves to let Zhongli into the apartment. It's much better today, as he had the opportunity to actually clean. He even opened a window, the gentle light and slight breeze filtering in from his bedroom. He waits by the door, staring after Zhongli.
“What do we do now?” Xiao asks, then regrets. Zhongli certainly did explain this to him many times over.
But he doesn't look angry, straightening up his suit for a moment. “In three days she's going to have to submit a response. Best case scenario, she agrees that you are of sound mind and we do not go to court.”
Judging by the furrow in his brows, Zhongli does not think that is likely to happen. Xiao wishes it was—his disappointment must show on his face with even more regret because Zhongli makes a noise at the back of his throat, “Don't look so sad, little one.”
Little one…Little one?
Zhongli has kept talking, offering words of comfort that Xiao misses entirely, unsure of what to make of the…nickname? Or is it just factually correct? He is of course, very little compared to Zhongli. Maybe he just got tired of using his name.
Xiao freezes when his large hand enters his field of vision, gently smoothing back his hair. He holds his breath. It's warm, and so much heavier than he thought, a comforting weight atop his head.
“You're going to be okay.”
There's a little voice in his head reminding him that—hey, the longer the case, the more time with Zhongli. And he is so kind to Xiao, so kind even now when he asks him to explain things that he should already know, more time…more time is good. Maybe he can even have another warm hand, that comforting feeling. Zhongli’s expression is subtle—perhaps surprise? He glances at his hand for a moment like it was mutinous. He clears his throat.
“While we wait, I thought we should get ahead on our preparations.” He adds, after watching Xiao shrink. “Nothing formal, just some things we should establish. You haven't done anything wrong.” Relief.
Xiao has probably always been a little obedient to a fault. (When he was younger, at least. With Aether that all went out the window..at least a little. He suspects that's a reason why his mother is being so cruel now.)
“Okay.” Xiao measures, looking up to the man. He has to crane his neck to meet his eyes, Zhongli looking down. “What do I have to do?”
Zhongli's hand returns, but this time coming to his long dark hair. He thumbs through the lifeless strands with another look Xiao doesn't understand. “A haircut.” Zhongli murmurs, “You look too alike.”
Too alike? Do they?
He supposes it may just naturally be apart of him. She raised him alone. Xiao barely interacted with people until he got to know Aether. He kept his hair long because that's what Mother preferred. He hadn't really thought he no longer needed to follow that rule.
Xiao had cut his hair—once. He was still a stupid kid, ruddy hands finding the kitchen scissors and hacking once they got home from competition. His hair was too long. It got in the way of everything, and when he looked in the mirror that day, nothing felt real. He placed third. Which was unacceptable—he figured cutting his hair would fix it somehow. Like he said--stupid kid.
Mother yanked his hair until his head ached, scolding him for what Xiao thought was actually very practical, and he didn't get dinner for two weeks. (Not like it mattered. He had gotten used to the feeling of hunger by then.)
As he thinks about it, he would very much like to cut his hair. But, “Why does it matter?”
Zhongli drops his hand. “It's all optics. Her team is probably going to do anything they can to discredit your word. Anything.” he stresses, Xiao is still confused. Zhongli gives him a small smile, “For example, they may say since you haven't changed very much, appearance-wise that it corresponds with your mental state. Just an example. Anything could be evidence.”
Okay…
Xiao brings his hand to his chin, thinking. Do... things like that really matter much? He doesn't mind cutting his hair but he has no clue what he'd do if he's interrogated on his habits. They don't make sense to himself. They're just born from familiarity. Xiao knew that his life would be on trial, but the intricacies are just beginning to dawn on him.
“Don't be nervous.” Zhongli interrupts his thoughts. “We're going to have plenty of time to prepare you.”
So fine then, a haircut.
Xiao isn't necessarily unused to sitting in a salon. He got trims every couple of months, on the dot. Mother liked his hair right in the middle of his back, no longer. She said it was good for ponytails, and ponytails were best for performing. His hair wouldn't hide his face and they could be used in the choreography.
Since he stopped skating, Xiao barely looks in a mirror, much less takes care of his hair aside from the bare minimum. And he's always taken care of long hair, so the extra inches weren't anything he really noticed. It's certainly gotten out of hand far, far past the middle of his back, closer to his hip bone. He's a little surprised at himself for not thinking of this sooner…but he supposes he's not thinking very much of himself at all. At least Zhongli helped, as hard as it is to admit without prickling away. He just ties it back, if it had gotten in the way.
Ugh gods. Xiao tries not to care much for his appearance these days, (ugly. worthless, worthless, worthless,) but even so those mantras easily work through his head. He must look like a mess.
Zhongli sits at the front of the salon. Xiao figured he'd—like every other person, be on his phone. Instead he sits, back pressed up against the glass with his legs crossed, book in hand.
Xiao remembers falling in love with Aether like this. It was awful.
Just—whenever he wasn't looking, Xiao would stare, and stare. He fixated on everything. Ae had a habit of biting his nails, something Xiao never did because Mother personally trimmed his nails up until he was 6 and by then Xiao was far too old to develop such odd, oral fixations. Instead he preferred bruises and cuts where he could get them. Hide them. Xiao found it endearing, not gross. Something so simple—such an odd comfort. To watch Zhongli's habits...? It would start a never-ending spiral.
He should not be doing this with his attorney.
He stares at Zhongli and he is so still. In competition, everyone moved around him with such nervous energy. Even in this salon, everyone fidgets, searching for anything, even if it's just constant scrolling on their phones. Zhongli's fingers only move occasionally—much slower than Xiao anticipated, but he seems like the sort of man to…anticipate and savor the feeling. Rock-steady patience, even while reading. He's so still, Xiao wonders if he's even breathing when the stylist turns him to the mirror.
She asks him how he wants it. Xiao isn't quite sure. He doesn't want it long anymore, but not so dreadfully short. He manages to describe some of this to the stylist—who smiles and nods after a few tense moments when Xiao thinks she's just going to turn him away and declare a lost cause.
It takes forever. Xiao is worried about Zhongli—God what a waste of time this must be for him. Sunlight is streaming through the glass windows when the stylist finally lowers him to wash his hair.
Zhongli picked the salon. It was very classy by Xiao's standards, golden interior, thousand-dollar gossip two seats over. When the stylist begins massaging his scalp, Xiao jolts. She just had been touching his hair up until this point, and the sudden human contact was enough to have Xiao on edge. The disturbance is enough to wet his shirt, and earn a concerned look from Zhongli, and Xiao is confused--he had been paying attention the entire time he was reading? Or did he have multiple eyes?
He approaches while Xiao is apologizing, soaking wet hair dripping onto his lap, wetting his jeans.
He has his book folded between two fingers, keeping his place. His amber gaze flits between the stylist, and Xiao. Zhongli can look very kind. He figures it's those wrinkles that frame his smile. Right now, he just seems…mad? His brows are furrowed, a cold stare with narrowed eyes. But Xiao doesn't know what he could have done to make him angry. But he's frowning, looking down at them—at Xiao, with that thinly-veiled upset expression
“Is everything alright?”
Xiao manages not to let an apology be the first thing from his lips. He glances back at the stylist, expecting a grimace, a sneer, a glare, but gets nothing except a smile.
“Yes,” She hums, “I think I just caught him a little off guard.”
Off guard. Xiao considers her words carefully. Can he be off-guard when he's always on edge?
Zhongli's eyes meet his own. “Xiao?” It's a sentence, is that true, Xiao? He nods.
Xiao expected Zhongli to go back to his book, but instead he hovers behind the stylist, watching pretty intensely.
Well, with his hair gone, everything speeds on by. She washes, dries, and styles it all in less than a half hour.
“Here we are.” She turns Xiao back to the mirror, and he stares.
Maybe that's what Zhongli was talking about. He doesn't recognize himself. His hair short, delicately framing his face, Xiao sees someone new.
What an odd feeling. Huh.
Zhongli is smiling at him now, and Xiao was right. Well-worn smile framed by his wrinkles, something born only out of time. “Very good,” He says.
Xiao glances up at him, then back to the mirror. The Xiao within blinks back at him.
“Your hair was a bit unruly, wasn't it, hm?” Zhongli's hand starts rummaging in his pocket. “I bet you feel much better, don't you?”
How did he know? Even though his reflection is unfamiliar, it doesn't clog his throat with the typical uncertainty. The reflection is so new and it does feel so, so much better. Xiao is so focused, tracing the lines of his face without his hair obscuring, the line of his jaw, the feeling of his skin, feeling brand new. He almost misses Zhongli handing his card to the stylist.
Xiao whips around, looking up to Zhongli. The older man seems to suffer from some sort of whiplash, even though he hadn't moved. His words taper to a low, muffled groan. It's barely audible.
“I can pay.” Xiao's words mush together, out of his mouth so fast.
Zhongli nods, “You can,” He folds the card into the stylists hand, who makes a beeline for the register. “But it's not necessary right now. This is a necessary expense for the case. Don't worry about it.” Xiao finds himself too intrigued by his reflection to really argue.
They exit the salon soon enough when Zhongli manages to rip Xiao away from his reflection. He was tired of him, surely.
Xiao isn't used to the breeze on his neck. It's a lot chillier without it. Xiap finds himself wrapping his arms around himself as they walk down the street, spring chill hitting his bare arms.
An apology bubbles forth. “I'm sorry.” Xiao abuses apologies. It was the only way to get Mother to listen, begging on the floor for forgiveness for even the smallest mistake. Plus, he always feels sorry, guilty for his presence. He assumed most people were the same…and he is sorry.
“No.” Zhongli's warm voice crackles, passion beneath the surface like fire roaring to life. “You've been such a good boy today.”
Good…boy. ‘Good boy”
He's been a ‘good boy’? Xiao's thoughts run. He's been good. That feels nice. Warm. Good. It introduces a fuzzy sense to the back of his head that paints the edges of his vision, head repeating that mantra.
Zhongli continues, after a soft exhale “I'm sure this was a major change, but it will be worth it. It's the little things.”