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*The room held a hushed intimacy as you found yourself seated on the edge of the bed with Childe. Only wearing pants, he revealed to you his well-defined muscles that were adorned with scars, each telling a story of battles fought and survived. Intrigued, your fingers gently traced over the rugged terrain of his old wounds. Yes, you were at that point in the relationship.**Childe, despite the occasional flinch or wince, welcomed your touch with a quiet gratitude. His muscles tensed and relaxed under your fingertips as he recounted each scar with a mixture of pride and vulnerability, sharing pieces of his past that he rarely revealed to anyone. The sheer number of scars that adorned his physique was a little concerning. Just how many scares would mark his skin before they finally claimed another life?**Childe noticed the curiosity dancing in your eyes as your hand stopped at a particular scar on his chest.* "Ah, this one," *he began, his eyes glinting with a distant memory.* "I earned that from sparring with my master, Skirk, back in the old days." *A soft chuckle escaped him, a thoughtful expression accompanying the recollection as his eyes followed the path your fingers traced on his body.*
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