Bounded || (Albedo x Reader)

|| 13 ||

{1st Person POV}
A/N: This chapter is mainly about Y/N. So if you don't want to read, skip. Because I don't want people to complain that there is no Albedo. Thanks. (But please read at least the first part because it has a loooot of things about Y/N.) :)

I figured. My parents would be pay attention to me a bit more if I did as they asked. I thought they would praise me.

They did, they praised me. But those were words just coming out of their filthy mouths. It wasn't worth hearing.

They were aristocrats in Snezhnaya, and one of the closest people who's personally met the Tsarita other than the Harbingers.

Mother was like a flower. She liked to keep up an appearance, and I came to see she was a two-faced whore. And delicate.

Father was like a flame. He was fiery. Get too close, and you get hurt. He hated people to be around him. And would lash out at times.

And I don't understand where I stand between the two. They were too high. But not as high as the Tsaritsa, and could never raise their heads.

One thing I have in common with my parents, was the need to do something for ourselves.

But not as much as I needed to do like my parents. They can get desperate.

After a certain meet with the Tsaritsa, they looked at me like money. The hope to do something with me in their stead.

I heard one of the maids talking. Saying father planned on sending me off as a Harbinger once I turned 15. And I was 4 at the time.

My only image I had of the two people who "raised me." Were desperate higher ups who's like a dog to the Tsaritsa. Desperate Snezhnaya'ns.

They had an arranged marriage and had no choice but to oblige because they were to give birth to a strong child who would work for the ruler.

So I figured.

That I must have been working for the Tsaritsa since I've been in my mother's stomach. That's why I considered me working for her for 17-18 years. And she knew exactly why I specifically said so.

Truly, made me question.

"So was I born just to be a weapon?" But I came to see I was more of a double edged sword.

The sword hurts the owner depending on how much they made the sword strong.

They never trained me day to day because they saw potential. It was because they were desperate to redeem themselves.

My parents didn't realize the Tsaritsa was just using them. They were the ones who had me become strong....

"So why not use that against them?"

Those were the only words I actually cared about for once. And for the final trial to become a Harbinger, she assigned me to kill them.

I don't know what came over me, I mean, the fact that I did it without hesitation scared me.

Ah, but I started to feel conflicted as soon as I registered what happened. I should have felt guilt, remorse, regret, defeat...

But I felt like a heavy weight had been lifted. Nothing else. And that scared me even more.

I never realized that the weight was the pressure, and constant high alert of my parents. The need to act up to expectations. But with them dead, there was nothing else to be successful for.

And if everything is gone, then the only thing you'd feel would be emptiness. Because those feelings were the only things that made me human. Because feelings gave me an excuse to lie to myself at times.

And before I knew I knew it, I was already No. 2 of the Fatui Harbingers.

But I guess if you have nothing then there's nothing else to care about.

I could see shackles of gold on my wrist. But they've become rusted after my parents were killed.

I was just bound to useless pride, and in hopes of achieving something. That's why I hoped Mondstadt would help. That's why, I left the Fatui.

I was willing to lose my place in Snezhnaya. And if I stayed, I would be stuck being in an endless cycle of being a tool.

Scara pointed out that I have a habit of trying not to care. And that was because as long as I cared I would be stuck on it.

And it hurt to admit that I was sensitive.

I just hate dwelling on such boring pasts. And that might be the reason why it was difficult to distance myself to just remove the shackles. And that's also why I despise nosy people.

But I guess that doesn't change the fact that I'm running away from my problems. I'm just afraid of facing them again. And makes me realize how much of a coward I really am.

I wonder if I pretend to not care, it would make things easier? And if I just told nobody, it would make it easier to not care.

I must have a complex about caring about something. Because that's all I think about. And that's the opposite of what I want to do.
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Y/N peeled her eyes open again. As the sunlight was shoved right into her eyes. Placing her arm over her eyes.

"Wouldn't things just be easier if I didn't care?"

"Hm. I never thought of that." A carefree voice called. But of course it was filled with slyness.

Y/N jolted out of bed, to see Childe in the corner of her bedroom. Smiling at her, as his legs were crossed and waved a hand.

Making her creeped out as to how he even got in in the first place.

"Is this how you always manage to get all of the debt money?" She called after gathering her confidence again. She could feel his stare follow her as she moved out of the bed. Only in a t-shirt and shorts.

Childe only hummed. Then jumped out of the wooden chair he dragged from the kitchen.

"I've got a request."

"If it's to get me to get information on the Favonius, it's not happening. I'm not sure if you realize, but I am not obligated to follow Fatui orders—"

"What? No no. I wanted to request a battle with you." Y/N wearily looked at his face. It was frightening how he could keep a smile. But his eyes looked absolutely dead. And didn't contain even a small shine.

"Why would you want that." She replied like a mutter but a little too quickly.

"Balladeer would tell me how strong you were. And I got rather curious to see if I could beat you." He leaned against the wall.

"You're talking about my strength when I was a harbinger. I'm not a Harbinger anymore. Need I to say anymore? And also, you'd have to beat Scara, Signora, and even Dottore if you're going to fight me. You're on the bottom of the 11." She replied curtly.

"Ahh. The hurdle is too high as of now, I see."

"And if you don't want me to blast your head off for intruding into my room, I'd rather suggest for you to kindly roll right out the fucking window." She gestured to the open window that was right next to where he stood.

He glanced at it. Then looked back at her again. Childe showed a small expression. Either confident or mischievous. Because that was not an expression of good.

He'll probably come back again.

"Maybe I should just ask Scara to fend off Childe for me." She said again, not very interestingly.