Childe watches Zhongli's eyes move from the water back to him and he wants to keep them there. He can't even articulate why. It's just part of that need. It isn't quite possessiveness. It might be desperation. Who is he without recognition? He doesn't consciously think about things like that, but it's there under the surface, the old Ajax who was once afraid of the world not completely stamped out.

His eyebrows go up, surprised for a moment. Then he laughs, cocky like he'd be for someone he was putting on a show for. He was like this when they first met, but a lot happened. He'd cooled some long before the mess at the end of his time in Liyue, allowed himself someone more genuine. He likes Zhongli, after all, and he doesn't like lying.

"What makes you think I do that? I don't have anything to hide," he says, which is so blatantly untrue that it's laughable. He's a Harbinger; they all have things to hide. Childe hides less than the others, sure, and he doesn't like to lie. That doesn't make him an open book.

Zhongli isn't wrong, though. Both of them do talk: Zhongli about history and culture, Childe about whatever he feels like saying at any given time, usually superficial. He likes to fill the silence.

Like now.

"This isn't a very happy dream, huh?"

He's a little fidgety himself, one hand tapping fingers against his bare thigh.