A part of him wants to jerk away from that touch, realizing that he admitted to a lot of things while he was dying back there. But there was also this compulsory feeling that welled deep within him, something that revered and worshipped Scaramouche and his stupid face. Not to mention that the truth finally came out, his own personal feelings about him...something he wanted to hide and push away into a dark corner that no one, not even him, would be able to find. And yet, he'd still freely admitted everything.

"You were controlling me. Making me say those things."

His retort comes out half-hearted. There's no backbone to it, because he knows what he's saying now is the real lie. Childe hates himself for it, and his first urge is to retaliate and swing his weapon right at Scaramouche's throat. But that's not a smart move and he'd surely die if he made any rash decisions now.

"What did you do to me? Going to turn me into something for you to play with? Well, I won't let you."