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“It is always satisfying to have a cup of tea when it is cold out, do you not think so?” You’re visiting Zhongli at his place, and as usual, he has prepared tea for the both of you. He always picks something appropriate. If you’re stressed, he’ll make some jasmine tea to help you relax. If you’ve just had a meal together, he makes ginger tea to aid digestion. Or, in this case, when the weather is cold, black tea hits the spot. Especially if Zhongli makes it: he’ll pay attention to the right brewing temperature and steeping times. He isn’t one to skimp on details.
You eagerly take a sip. It’s still too hot to drink, so you end up not tasting much. But at least the smell is good. “Mh-mm,” you agree. “Black tea is just right for moments like these. I got so darn cold on my way to your house. I really need something to warm me up.” Like your arms around me — the thought is there, but you could never speak it aloud.
It’s been a few months since you’ve fallen in love with him, but you fear he could never reciprocate. He is way too… perfect, in a sense. His calm and steady demeanor, his countless skills, his impeccable style: in all respects, he is in a league of his own. You’re just glad you can spend time with him as a friend; that is already a great honor. Although that, too, you could never speak aloud. He’d play it down, humbly; as if he isn't a former Archon; as if he is just a normal human.
Zhongli smiles. “I’m pleased to hear you enjoy it. Have as much as you like. And if I can do anything else for you, let me know. You are my guest, after all.”
A soft laugh escapes you. “Come on, Zhongli. We’ve been friends for quite some time now. No need to be so formal.”
Zhongli chuckles, too. “You are right. Apologies. I’m just most used to this manner of speaking. Although that is, of course, no excuse. Please know that I never mean to be cold towards you; quite the opposite.” He scrapes his throat. “Well then. Friend. How have you been?”
“It’s been alright. I’ve just been going to work as usual. How about you?”
“Likewise. Although I don’t mind it. Contrary to what one might think, living as long as I have does not get boring. It does not rob each moment of its worth. Rather, life has taught me that there is an infinity of different experiences and that each one is worth treasuring. Even moments that seem to be the same, are different in interesting ways.”
You take a moment to find the right words to say — any silences that fall between are not awkward, but peaceful. “That’s quite a profound answer to such a mundane question, Zhongli.” You laugh a little, but it’s not mean-spirited; Zhongli smiles along with you. “I suppose you may be right. I’ll try my best to live a thousand years and maybe I’ll learn to treasure each moment the way you do.”
He laughs again. His laugh sounds deep, much like his voice. It’s carefree and calm, coming from deep inside. Something about it just draws you in and makes you fall in love with him all over. “I do not think it’s necessary to live as long as me, dear. Though I would not mind if you did. I would love to have tea with you for a thousand more years.”
‘Dear’? You blush at his choice of words. And he said he would like to have tea with me for a millennium more?
“Y/n?” Zhongli interrupts your shock. “Did I say something to upset you? You look quite troubled.”
“No, no, it’s not that at all!” You shake your head and wave your hands in a defensive gesture. “I’m just… Never mind,” you trail off. You can’t even look him in the eye.
From the corner of your eye, though, you see him looking at you with a smile. “Alright then.” A short silence falls. Then he sets his cup of tea on the table between you and gets up. You look at him, wondering what he’s up to. He makes his way around the table to you and lowers himself on one knee so that your faces are level. “Did I fluster you with my words?”
You feel yourself becoming even redder. You nod, unable to speak.
“I meant those words. And I apologize if I misread your reaction, but I have the impression that you feel the same way I feel about you. I’ve been yearning for you. So, if you’ll let me…” He trails off, seemingly intentionally. His hand cups your cheek gently. You could pull away if you wanted. His other hand takes your cup from you and places it on the table. His lips draw nearer to yours. And nearer. You close your eyes. His hand slides lower, to the back of your neck, as he presses his lips on yours. His lips are soft; his mouth has the lingering taste of a green tea he must have had before you arrived.
For several long moments, the touch remains. Then, Zhongli pulls back. You open your eyes; you find him looking at you with a kind gaze. “I have wanted to do this for months. Months that felt like centuries.”
“I don’t know what a century feels like, but I imagine it must be like the months I spent yearning for you.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t let you know my feelings sooner. I did not want to be presumptuous. That’s why I used that term of endearment. I wanted to gauge your reaction.”
“That’s so sweet,” you murmur. “But… I almost can’t believe it. You’re so amazing. You’re perfect in every way. I can’t believe you’d fall in love with someone average like me.”
Zhongli’s face betrays pity and love. “Dear, surely you’ve heard that beauty is in the eye of the beholder? To your eyes, I’m perfect — even though I do not see myself the way you do. Likewise, you’re perfect to me, even if you don’t see it yourself.” He smiles at you.
You can’t argue against that. “Zhongli. Kiss me again.” Your voice is soft, unused to the candor.
He indulges you. Again and again. His tongue slips in your mouth. Sometimes you even detect a hunger in the movements of his mouth. A possessive voraciousness in the way he holds your head like he’s never going to let you go. He probably won’t.
Eventually, he lets up. “We shouldn’t let the tea go to waste. It is probably good to drink now.” He returns to his chair and picks up his cup. You take yours, too, and take a sip. Zhongli is right: the tea is at the perfect temperature now. It warms you deep inside. It’s a little bitter, giving it an intensity that fits the weather.
“Zhongli?” you whisper, your breath blowing away the steam rising from the cup.
“Yes?”
“I feel the same. I would like to have tea with you for a thousand more years.”