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Zhongli doesn't know how time works. Or maybe his sense of time is just… skewed by having lived thousands of years.
He stands in your peripheral, the fire light reflecting in such a way you'd swear he's gilded. You can't look at him directly without getting all lovey, so you just. Don't.
"Perhaps next time you go out drinking with 'Venti', you should inform me beforehand." He's saying. Despite his somewhat judgy words, his voice is warm, quieter than usual (presumably, for your benefit). "That bard and his dandelion wine."
There are... several things you could say to that, but you decide you'd much rather let Zhongli continue his little rant. Your mouth probably wouldn't cooperate with you anyways. Your whole body feels like molasses, slow and sweet and heavy. A combination of the wine and the exhaustion, no doubt.
"He didn't pull any of his pranks, did he? One would think someone of his age would have outgrown such… juvenile amusements." You laugh at his strange phrasing, and Zhongli flashes a smile.
He's so pretty.
You go back to staring at the ceiling, ignoring the heat of a blush on your cheeks.
"Don't fall asleep. Your tea will be ready just in a moment."
That, that needs some clarification. You twist around to look over at him directly, asking, "How long is a moment for you, dragon boy?" The endearment, if it can even be called that, just slips out.
Zhongli doesn't seem to mind, at least. He simply hums as he considers the question. "Less than 'a while'. More than 'a second'."
Curiously, you follow up with, "How long have we known each other?"
"We…" He grabs cups out of the sink, looking them over (presumably to make sure they're clean and dry) before setting them on the counter. "I told you before, that contracts cannot be used to define friendship. Neither can time."
That's not quite what you were asking, but you suppose it works. You watch as he pours the tea, shamelessly admiring his gracefulness. You only see glimpses of that with Venti, with Zhongli it's in practically every move he makes. Thousands of years of practice.
"That being said… I would like more time with you." Zhongli continues.
"Aw." You coo, only half teasing. "You like me! You wanna spend time with me!"
Zhongli's shoulders tremble with laughter as he makes his way to the sitting area. "Did I not just say that, my friend?"
You don't answer immediately, too busy with grabbing your cup. The art of tea making is yet another area in which Zhongli excels. Even half drunk you can appreciate the bright citrus and… "Is this ginger?"
"It helps with nausea." Zhongli confirms. Then, apparently unable to stop himself from rambling, "It's also an anti-inflammatory, and many people find it helps with arthritis."
"You got any fun facts about how it grows?" You ask curiously.
"Fun facts." Zhongli repeats, seemingly amused. "I suppose I do. It's a cultigen. Meaning it wasn't naturally occurring."
It takes you a minute to translate that. "You mean it was like. Made purposefully? Like how dogs used to be wolves but--" you make a vague motion with your free hand.
"Humans intervened." Zhongli nods. "Artificial selection is a fascinating process…"
You sip your tea as Zhongli expands on that thought. While you only understand a very small portion of the words coming out of his mouth (what the hell do sports have to do with botany?), you like the sound of his voice. It's low but soft, not scary. And he doesn't raise his voice, even when he's excited.
It has a soothing effect, and you feel your eyelids grow heavy. You set the teacup down, just in case, and pull the blanket Zhongli had so kindly offered closer.
You could stay here for years, you think. Warm and safe, and with Zhongli. The only thing that could make it even better is the addition of the twins. Either curled up with you, or simply somewhere nearby. So long as you knew where.
But speaking of cuddling…
Zhongli nearly goes off on another tangent when he finally wraps up, but you interrupt with, "Zhongli?"
He raises an eyebrow.
"Can you… can we cuddle?" It's a bit of a bold question, seeing as you've never really laid down together. You hold hands sometimes when you're wandering Liyue, and you've been back-to-back in battle, but this is different.
Zhongli seems to know that as well. He pauses and it feels like forever - oh no, what if you overstepped? what if he's uncomfortable? but to him it's probably an instant.
"I would be honored," he says, and you don't think you've ever heard that phrase with such sincerity. Such reverence.
You've never seen Zhongli the way the people of Liyue do, as their god , as their protector and guardian and the one who gives advice that shakes the economy and trade of all seven nations.
But you do know that him looking at you like you're his whole world, that's… special. And strange. And nice.
You hold out your hands, "Come 'ere. I wanna be the little spoon."
"Little spoon? Is that a phrase from Mondstadt or…?" He takes your hands, laughing when you pull yourself up off the couch. "I thought--"
"You lay down," you mock-order. "You're taller, so."
"I… admit I do not have much experience with cuddling. Or touch in general. I am unsure how height factors in." Zhongli says as he settles down into the couch.
You slow blink, trying to process that sentence. "Are you saying that I am more knowledgeable than you, in this particular subject?"
"You sound pleased." He notes.
"I am!" You admit shamelessly as you join him on the couch. Zhongli is… awkward, as expected, but he lets you wriggle close and wrap his arms around yourself. "Now, the most important thing about cuddling." You say, twisting so you can look him in the eyes.
"Yes?" Zhongli grabs the blanket, pulling it over your legs.
You smile at him, "Are you comfy?"
"More comfortable than I've been in ages, in fact."