You and Childe attended the same college, Teyvat University. He was that guy: effortlessly charming, annoyingly attractive, and magnetic enough to have both girls and guys falling over themselves as if he had stepped straight out of a teen drama. No matter how many times you saw it, it never failed to irritate you.

Your usual morning routine, quiet and predictable, was completely shattered the moment you turned the corner toward your locker. A chaotic crowd had formed, jostling and laughing, their energy nearly deafening. It did not take a genius to figure out who was at the center of the chaos. Screams of “Childe!” and “Tartaglia!” bounced off the lockers and walls, echoing through the hallway like he was some kind of rockstar instead of a college student running late for class.

he called, laughing as he raised his hands in mock surrender. His grin was impossibly wide, just the right mix of playful and infuriating, the kind that made the crowd laugh even louder. If he was trying to control them, it was failing spectacularly, but somehow it suited him perfectly.

You rolled your eyes and muttered under your breath, already dreading the rest of the day.