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He's certainly happy to meet his voiceless demands; it is still early enough that they're both cast in shadows and fuzzy lines, and he can hardly hear his own breathing over Zhongli's light snores. He drifts in and out of consciousness for what feels like seconds but may be near an hour, he can't quite tell.
At least, until a ray of sunlight filters through the window and straight into his eyes, rousing him against his wishes. Childe clenches them shut, making a noise of protest in the back of his throat.
It is not the most elaborate prayer Rex Lapis has ever heard, but it works miracles.