primos | from @bakerstreet

from @bakerstreet

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I've gotten a lot better with my drinks, thank you kindly! I think sticking to one type helps keep my pranking fingers at bay. Jeez, I'm actually pretty long overdue for a good pranking... maybe Master Diluc ... maybe Miss Lisa...

Gah! Now you have me thinking of pranks, stop that.

[ He's trying to be good! Although, Zhongli may find it more bothersome to think back on spilled drinks, isn't that just life? A bunch of spilled drinks? They had a good laugh, even if Venti ran for his life in the process of it.

Even now... he thinks of it from time to time. ]

My timing is as it needs to be. I'll arrive promptly at the outskirts of Mondstadt's east gate and give you the best tour. The history, the gossip, and the best company you can expect. Just... let's avoid the church, eh? The sisters have been a bit agitated lately.

[ Funny enough, Venti's already taking down notes in a small leather notebook – all key points of his city and the people he'd introduce Zhongli to. Little stars and hearts around important bullet items line the paper, but... he stops between messages to soak it in. It's funny how the tables have turned...

Morax is not dead. That news brought him such joy, just as Venti's awakening must have done the same to the geo archon. The bard can't help but smile a bit wider. ]

There's just a few rules you have to follow. Ready to hear them?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ so noisy, even now, after getting what he wanted. Zhongli could have prophesied Barbatos' unease, much to his displeasure. Barbatos has always been a creature of unrestrained freedom and fleeting pleasures, where Zhongli has been been tethered (to Liyue or to duty or to something or other). now, when Zhongli is gently tapping a toe to release the ties, Venti is the one who seems ... nervous. ]

Barbatos. [ he says, like a name is something grounding. ] Does this bother you?

[ there is some vindication in admitting feelings, but he wonders if Barbatos is afraid of rejection, or afraid of acceptance, as one would have different tethers than the other. it was like a game: the question what does he want from me? turns into doubt that Barbatos knew, himself. ]

Do you think I'll stamp your name on a contract and never let you out again? [ but in some way, all relationships were contracts, weren't they? ] You were always bad at utilizing them.

[ Does this bother you? ]

No! It doesn't!

[ He protests quickly, as if all the things he was unsure about washes away. His inexperience in matters deeper than carnal experiences shows. He can serenade fair maidens and write poems that could bring old men to tears – but no words could truthfully express their story. His grip on the side of Zhongli's neck tightens – not enough to hurt, even if he could. It desperately claws at him as if he was afraid he'd be out of reach. ]

I'm bad at many things and I don't mind being them with... you. [ A foolish bard. A drunken wayward thorn in his side. Uncouth and ill-mannered. ] Morax...

[ They don't speak so plainly. It takes a lot for the words to leave his lips, so he asks – holding back impulse and desires alike. ]

May I shut you up and just kiss you?

[ while he doesn't have a drunk Venti in his arms now, he certainly expects one later. that, he supposes, is something that comes along with the entire package that is Barbatos. ]

I never did expect you to ask. [ he thought Barbatos would just do it, but he supposes that he only partially accounted for the jitteriness. then again, Barbatos was taken by his whims more than not. ] You must be familiar, considering kissing is the subject of many songs written by man wandering bards ...

[ is he going to continue? he definitely needs to be shut up, because it looks like if he's not stopped, he'll just continue. it's as if he's unintentionally handing Venti a new weapon for his arsenal.

he'll regret it later tonight. ]

[ What's so long about November 2021 when Venti has wanted to do this for centuries? He expects something other than what he gets. There's many things one would not expect from the bard – yet here he was. Trying to compromise, seem logical and give Zhongli choice.

A precious choice that was as fair as it was intimate.

But, even he has his patience.

He plays coy, or simply, firm as a stone and doesn't dare kiss him first. Or even ask for it. Both hands comb up from his neck instead to squeeze his jawline, thumbs to the sharp bone. Venti huffs before he kisses him, winds making the bookcases rock from how deeply he goes for it. He feels pained, in a way, that he waited this long but it feels... right. To kiss him and hope he feels the same sparks coursing through him is all he could want right now.

He doesn't pull back – not until he has to. ]

[ Zhongli would have kept talking, as it seems like he always has something to say, but his words pause as Venti spreads his fingers over the back of his neck and over the curve of his face.

for someone who prides themselves in being as still as stone, Zhongli bends so easily to meet him.

it starts sweet – the brush of the lips as Venti huffs indignantly before closing the space between them. for the moment, Zhongli savors the contact. it's been a long time since he's had it, and even longer since it's brought some comfort to him. there's a swell inside of him that feels all too much like the call of Geo, but he keeps it at bay. the intensity is there, as if it's pushing up against the barriers, but it's no surprise, Zhongli has always held back.

he likes the taste, something that he's thought about for at least a thousand years, pressed up against him in mild desperation. it, surprisingly, seems to come naturally to him, even as he parts his lips and gives Venti some room to explore.

(yet, he's still here, holding back.) ]

[ Venti isn't sure what he's doing.

He never got a clear indication what Zhongli liked in a lover or partner. When he thinks about it... he fears there's an incompatibility that puts their lack of resonance with Anemo and Geo to shame. For he was everything Venti was not – but... perhaps that is why he seeks him so desperately now to fill a space left hollow. It's tiny, but there. The size of an arrow wound to his heart, if he wants to be sappy about it.

But... Zhongli's lips fit against his and that gives him enough drive to kiss. Soft at first, open eventually, and soon with a bite of his bottom lip – he pulls back with features flushed and words fumbling out past his lips: ]

...Tell me you felt something. [ Anything, but preferably that he felt the same spark inside as him. It's almost pleading as the winds around them die down. He's thought of this on lonely nights for centuries – feared seeing him when he awoken for the thought of how badly that desire would still be there. Yet... here they were. ] Please. Anything.

[ there have been many lovers and partners, all of Zhongli's relationships like contracts. when he takes them, he doesn't fear incompatibility or how good at it he may or may not be, he simply offers himself into it. while Zhongli has the ability to make many things complicated, moments of this are quite simple.

physical pleasure is much like many of the other things that he's learned to appreciate in his life – this is his first offering off it after he stepped down as Liyue's Archon. there are other responsibilities, but all of which are less pressing.

he touches a thumb to his bottom lip curiously, as if he's testing something. then Venti's pleading with him, and his head tilts like he's not entirely certain how to place it.

is he still unsure?

perhaps it's that Zhongli doesn't feel things in the same way Venti does, or that there's still little rifts between them that had always been there. Zhongli doesn't mind them, actually, he's learned quite a bit from those gaping gaps between the two of them. he's not sure how to express that, or how to convey it to Venti to soothe him. so, he doesn't say anything, and instead leans forward again to kiss him.

it's less soft this time, as if something that he had been holding back is slowly being chipped away, releasing a ferocity that's normally kept for the dragon that he once was. this time he fills the pocket of Venti's mouth, pressing his body backward and into the closest bookshelf. ]

[ There's a reason why he chose this bard life.

Words were a great tool as much as they were a great weapon. He tenses up, hoping the husk of his voice would confirm what they were feeling. Zhongli had always appreciated a good story – valued the truth behind them as much as the intent. That is a middle ground he thinks Zhongli would go for – or at the very least deny him here and there.

There isn't either of that.

Just silence and Venti's eyes tremble as he watches the way the man reacts. The thumb to his lip, the lack of words. It doesn't spill out sweet pleasantries – Zhongli was no songbird and Venti so desperately wanted to hear him sing, it feels like.

Instead... action is what moves the Geo forward from the past. Tears down walls between them just enough. Venti's fingers curl down to his neck as he stumbled (yes, even as his feet finally touch the damn ground) and back into the bookshelf. Lines of fantasies pale in comparison to the one happening now.

If he wasn't lost in a gaze, eagerly kissing back to stave off the dragon's language of love, Venti may worry about Miss Lisa walking in on them. Instead, he only worries about what will happen when they both need to breathe.

He doesn't want to pull back.

So? He doesn't. ]

[ in most things that Zhongli does, he is meticulous and tenacious, much like stone resting on the peak of a mountain. he is, in some ways, immovable and stubborn, all of his movements outlined before they were made in so many documents and contracts. while Morax — Zhongli – is not known for his passion, but it boils inside of him all the same. on most days he tames it well, and on others, it pours out and overflows over his edges.

he offers Venti no mercy, his kisses filled with heady heat that rises between them. when one kiss breaks, he tilts his head in for another, the length of dark hair falling over his shoulder. it is rather uncouth to show such affection in a public place, but after six-thousand years of life, two-thousand five-hundred of that spent in the throes of war, he finds that he doesn't care much. however, anyone bold enough to disturb them will incur the judgmental wrath of the former Geo Archon, even Miss Lisa.

still, Zhongli holds him steady, an arm around his waist just so that if Venti wished to lean on him enough to suspend himself from the ground again, that he could without second thought. ]

Is this a sufficient answer?

[ but it's not long before he's leaning in again for another. ]

[ All Zhongli needed was the ability to let a landslide happen. It's sudden. Forceful. A rush that Venti wasn't use to. He's dreamt about it, he's sure – so many nights thinking of what could have been. They neighbor lands, but never did he think any feelings could align like this. So close, it was almost insulting that it took this long to act.

Wine-stricken nights, loneliness taken home to beds ... all of it lead them to this moment. His back was uncomfortable against the bookcase, his hands not knowing where to settle, but finally they bundle at the darkened strands seeping over his shoulder. Holding onto him, afraid he'd float away if let go.

When Zhongli pulls back, his own lips feel raw and sore – such a forceful kiss, but he croaks out a soft admission: ]

No. It's not. Keep trying.

[ And try Zhongli does with his kiss, but Venti meets him halfway. Two forces crash against one another with no resonance but it feels right... and it works. Damn well, at that. A few books tumble from their place and the bookcase rocks, but they kiss like young dopes with nothing left to lose. ]

[ there was slow steadiness to stone, but there was also the consequence of a rockslide. Zhongli could be both, and he is in this moment.

while Zhongli always found a way to do his own duty through his loneliness (particularly around the time of Venti's long naps), it didn't mean that he wasn't stricken by it all the same. sometimes mid-step. sometimes when signing a contract, and the curve of someone's script would remind him of a long, lost moment with a lover.

it was a moment of release, a tight kiss with their bodies pressed together against the bookshelf.

then there's Barbatos. ]

You are ...

[ he says with breathless, fond exaggeration. he barely pulls back to reply. ]

Impossible.

[ though he has to wonder, as he presses his forehead against Venti's, as he loses himself in the not-loneliness of needed affection and warm, wet kisses, if this had been Venti's plan all along. ]

[ This moment was as much as the past as it was the present and future. A pivoting point from the path they had been on for so long but... perhaps Venti hoped deep down this would always be the destination. When he thought of Morax, he thinks of the frustration he felt.

So different, so set in his ways...

And yet, here he had bent enough for them to have this sweet moment where the air was stolen so desperately from his lungs.

The haunting heat of Zhongli's mouth to his when he mutters impossible makes the imp snicker against his lips. Though the name of Barbatos is heralded here, Zhongli knows all too well he was a trickster. With the man's features against his own, he fondly holds onto the sharpness of his jawline where he so desperately wants to become an expert traveler in. To learn Zhongli's body, to travel nerves and visit sweet spots... his face was red at the thought but he desperately wants to. ]

Would you have me any other way?

[ It's a cheeky smirk before he tugs him down for another peppered, light kiss to sate them. They can't keep doing this here! Even Venti knows that. ]

[ he doesn't answer the question, because he knows the answer.

instead, Venti pulls him down and he obliges. Zhongli, while certainly someone who has carved his own way through many canyons, still requires some level of seduction. Venti wiggles, almost flutters in his arms, and Zhongli keeps a grip on him.

for someone like him, affection doesn't matter where and when it's expressed. Venti will have to lead him elsewhere before he stops. ]

After so long, I thought you would know me better.

[ than assuming he'd leave Barbatos unsatisfied.

this, in a way, is also a contract. ]

[ Just like Venti's always been – it's fleeting. Here and there kisses, lips just missing his and ghosting against the promise of more. Restraining himself is the surprising part of this, but he's not drunk. If he had a few more mimosas, perhaps welcomed Zhongli when he was more lonely... Venti would have been on his knees already. ]

I do! But, isn't there something exciting about still having so much to learn about one another?

[ His voice takes an interesting turn. It's unsaid what they would be learning. From friends to lovers, that was an entirely new realm of perception and study.

Contrary to what people think of the drunkard: Venti does his homework and studies well.

But that voice? It hooks with a sweet, sultry sing-song way – he's not wrong. The thought of seeing Zhongli in a new light makes him anxiously chew his own lip, thinking of how to go about this. Fingers dance down the side of Zhongli's neck, to his front and walk the line to his waistline as if he wants to reel him in, not just secure him. ]

Where are you staying tonight?

[ It's innocent enough, toeing the line of what was appropriate at the same moments his fingers tempt to undo his coat. ]

We could go – [ They could do many things, they should have but this feels... like a homecoming in a way. ] – if you'd like.

[ then Venti lights up, as if the two of them hadn't spent the last two-hundred years in various states of loss. perhaps loneliness could say a lot about the two of them, and Zhongli thinks, perhaps, that they should've done this sooner.

a gloved hand rests on the back of Venti's shoulders, moving up and down absently, but methodically. he's gotten better at this from the last time that Venti had seen him, but it's been five-hundred years. he stands under Venti's wandering fingers and hands, giving him room to explore. ]

I haven't explored any options for lodging, yet. Would you be more comfortable elsewhere?

[ yes, they certainly should've done this sooner. ]

[ The small, soothing feeling was new. Not in the grand scheme of things, but new from Zhongli. As if the stone's hard edges had smoothed over and he can grasp something like this without feeling pain. To let some walls down, but not all of them.

He can have his secrets, Zhongli can have his. They find common ground, bound by bigger movements on a board they can't fully see. One button comes undone of Zhongli's coat and another as they stand so obviously enamored with one another. Anyone who walked in would have no doubt. ]

Mmm? I merely thought we'd appreciate some privacy. Have a few glass of wines, get comfortable and...

[ Thwap, Venti paps at his stomach idly and turns his features away with red riddling his rounded, cherub cheeks. ]

Continue this conversation.

[ "Conversation", is technically true. It's just a different language, especially one of the body's desires. Venti looks back, but steels on. Zhongli does best when the bard lays things out. ]

Preferably a bed, but if you have other ideas... please, you have the floor!

[ it had been five-hundred years mulling over the words of Guizhong, and living without Barbatos' particular brand of leisure. he had a lot to think about, and he also had a long way to go.

while Zhongli doesn't loosen a grip on him, he does put a hand over his to stop wind sprite fingers from disrobing him further than a decorative clasp. (however, he doesn't dissuade the first.) then Venti is looking both cheeky and a little flushed. Zhongli had always found this sort of affection within the bard's territory, but perhaps he isn't connecting it correctly. perhaps there's something else.

still. ]

Barbatos. [ it's quiet, but still firm, if not a little curious. ] Are you embarrassed? Surely couplings of such a sort are well within your realm of expression. Song and pleasure carry the same notes.

[ this is the man you fell for, Venti. well, at least Zhongli does have some faith in Venti's performance.

he turns him partially toward the door, casually re-clasping the button that Venti so boldly undid. (Zhongli is very put together, it means it may be all that more satisfying to watch him become something of a mess later.) with the hand still on his back, he guides him back through and outside again. ]

Perhaps the best way to get reacquainted is to take advantage of that privacy.

[ though he certainly doesn't think he's wrong, there. there are many ways to reunite, and the one Venti's suggesting is just one they haven't done before. ]

[ Long before his slumber, Barbatos and Morax didn't always see eye-to-eye. It was a testament of fundamental differences between Liyue and Mondstadt. They work well together, but there's little roadblocks or compromises that must be made. Venti was ready to do something bold – to risk electrocution from Mondstadt's meanest librarian and drop to his knees in a shockingly selfish way! To greet his Liyue guest properly to the city!

Yet, no. Zhongli stops his idle unbuttoning and his brows furrow down.

When he speaks, he literally gasps out loud? ]

That's a round-about way of calling me a whore, Morax!

[ His cheeks puff out, clearly not too upset about it to deny the company. His performance is stellar – song or sin, but Zhongli may not get it at this rate if he keeps flustering him. Back outside, they were still at a loss of where to go. Privacy was best. Privacy to use one another's names – new or old – and to not feel like they could be interrupted. He turns, gripping one of Zhongli's hands and tugging him down the alleyway. ]

There's an Inn. Not too far from here. There's usually a few rooms, and – we could... claim one for the night...? If that's preferable for you.

[ they were fundamentally different in many ways, like the push and pull of the ocean against the rocks. yet Zhongli knows he wouldn't have been able to make the decision to allow Liyue to flourish by the hands of humans if it wasn't for Venti. they had been influences on each other, both in good ways and in bad – probably more good than bad.

when Venti pulls him along, he follows behind him at a measured pace. ]

A room for the night would be preferable. I'll allow you the lead. [ he knows there are other places Venti rests, and he's not the best outside sleeper when he doesn't have to be.

so, he feels a little press to clarify. ] Now, it's a roundabout way of asking what part of our affection may have you so flustered. It's not an insult to be well acquainted with forms of affection.

[ the last part is said with a certain gentleness.

Venti was much freer with his own love, while Zhongli required some level of interest, and then eventually a contract. Zhongli's hedonism, while finely aged, was a relatively new part of his life, Venti somehow turned it into another part of his nature. ]

[ He spends some nights at said Inn. Working with the maids lazily in the morning when they need an extra bit of help cleaning the rooms – all for free, just for a place to rest his head if he's had too much to drink and didn't feel like slinking into the wilds. They know he's as much of a menace as he is a miracle, pulling through in a pinch when needed.

Yet... he may or may not be working against fate. A certain Cavalry Captain was keeping the Inns mighty full, after all. They'll see when they get there. His mind works half-fueled by the desire to not ruin this, a small high of hope that he can't help but feel addicting in its own right.

He needs no wine right now, he wants to drink this moment with Zhongli.

Yet, of course, he overcomplicates things. ]

Mo – Zhongli. This whole thing has me flustered! This isn't some story or tale weaved in scandalous story. [ It means... quite more than some affair. Drunk or sober. By the time Venti tugs him to the front of the Inn, there was no 'guard' awaiting – it seemed like there was some leeway to walk in and ask for a room, knowing full well where Venti's mind was leading them to. Instead, he stops and rolls a thumb to Zhongli's knuckle, taking his hand into his own tightly. ] When you have repeatedly let something slip between your fingers, you begin to wonder if it could be held onto in the first place. You may be painfully hard to get a hold of to inspire such a free spirit, but this new life you live ...I refuse to accept that any longer. Stay with me for the night. Whatever will come from it, will be more than enough – for I'll no longer regret.

Edited 2022-08-10 07:42 (UTC)

[ Zhongli catches the words as they first pass through Venti's lips. ]

That you regret.

[ it's said mostly to himself, as if he had to repeat the words to fully understand them. there were many things that he knew Barbatos had regretted: scratched them all into his brain until the only way that he could avoid emotional calamity was to drown himself in liquor.

he thinks again how they should've done this sooner, even though their lives were never promised to be peaceful.

Venti urges him this way and that, and he follows him to the inn until they're just outside the door. ]

Barbatos ... [ perhaps he's a little baffled. to him, being with Venti is easy, because they had been that way through more than just affection. this was natural, a step that was just proximity. ] I'll stay with you as long as you'll have me. If it's one night, or many nights to come. I have been here far longer; too long for you to dwell on lost opportunities. There are things that you've lost, but I am not one of them.

[ it's not said without weight to it, low and with a quiet purr. when he speaks something, the words were chiseled into a stone contract. ]

Shall we? I'll show you.

[ Regret was etched in that little notebook – for time, even after awakening after so long, was precious. Venti may be eager to reconnect and make up for lost time, but he's seeking something new and exciting here. The entrance of the Inn provides a poor place for this conversation, but so was where they shared their kiss in the library.

They make it work regardless.

He feels more vulnerable than ever because this wasn't some simple fling with a pretty man or woman that caught his attention in a bar – this was Morax. Elevated high in his mind despite their disagreements and pettiness.

To hear things played out so plainly as Venti turn red in the face if only for a brief second. His fingers snatch at the tie settled precise in front of Zhongli's chest and tugs him down enough. I'll show you.

He acts with another small abandon for anything proper, to kiss the man again in agreement and appreciation. Can you blame him? The old bard was sentimental and Zhongli speaks delicately on this.

Public displays such as this weren't... too far off, but Mondstadt was free with its care and love – but Venti doesn't let the kiss linger. He'd hate to make Zhongli feel uncomfortable. ]

Then, let us retire.

[ He doubts they'll leave the Inn room after they arrive. In they go, a fresh-faced young maiden behind the desk with stacks of towels waiting to be folded. She seems frazzled. With her eyes peer up, she looks – ah... her face droops.

"Welcome, welcome and – ...oh. Sir Venti... it's you." ]

What kind of greeting is that?! Miss Greta, please, curve those lips up into a smile!

[ "I would but, you left your room in disarray last time you stayed! It was as if a whirlwind went through it! Please don't tell me you're seeking a room again."

Oh, his face turns red – he had left in a rush last time and... maybe forgot to clean up after himself? He takes a step back, almost butting into Zhongli in the process. ]

A whirlwind that touches down is said to never be repeated... please tell me, do you have any availability for the next few days..?

[ Days. Even with Zhongli's words, assuming they'd share a room together for days inspires a soft smile on his face. Greta glances up to Zhongli, then to Venti – back and forth as she folds one towel over her delicate fingers.

"We have two availabilities. The Grandmaster Suite and a double bed." Venti beam a bit, assuming that the double bed would be more than enough! ]

Perfect! We'll take –

[ days, Venti says in that whimsy, carefree voice of his. Zhongli watches with mild interest after he's been pulled and tugged toward the inn. as the Lord of Geo, he's tough to fluster, and after thousands of years, even in Venti's absence, Zhongli knows him better than he thinks.

in all of his fuss, Zhongli catches Venti by the shoulder to steady him. a messy room is hardly something that he cares deeply about (Venti is, well, Zhongli certainly would use the term messy to describe him). for all of their parties and assemblies before before the entire world fell apart, they had never connected quite like this. for him, it was less a surprise, and more of a certain progression that felt comfortable. indeed, he thinks that this is belated rather than never intended.

but they were old, lonely, and both of them were still counting their sacrifices like so many talons to their insides. they had been beaten and picked apart, forced to make choices against their own personal philosophy but for the betterment of all of Teyvat. they couldn't go back into the past and change what had happen, they merely had to live with the consequences. however, they could live with those consequences together.

Zhongli catches Greta's eyes with his own and almost gives her a start. it's not often that a tall, well-dressed man from Liyue graces the small, tucked away little inn. ]

The suite would be preferable.

[ and he says it with such authority that she's already making the arrangements. it doesn't matter that he, erm, doesn't have the money. he looks like he has the money, and that's enough for Greta not to even question a payment upfront.

here he is, being unreasonably grandiose. well, they wanted to enjoy themselves, didn't they? he's a gentleman of high taste.

Greta is already gathering a few supplies and grabbing the keys to lead them down the hallway. Zhongli looks like this is completely normal. ]

[ Days means they wouldn't feel a very mortal constriction of time. To rush and to lose sight of the finer details is how horrible stories are made! If Venti was to step into this territory with someone that makes his heart beat faster, he wants toe ensure the details were remembered fondly. Needless to say, he won't be slow but he'll be thorough.

Thorough stories always yield the best investment.

Truthfully, it had been subconscious but what really snaps his attention was Zhongli's interjection. A suite? He doesn't even think he's wandered into the fancier areas of Celestia! A suite sounds lavish and despite his own humble (and poor) life as a bard, he doesn't turn it down.

Greta certainly does her best to not overthink or connect the dots. Venti was already following her with an air of whimsy behind – his cape fluttering on a wind that follows only him and his cap grabbed onto sheepishly as he tries to make small talk. Horribly. Greta doesn't care to hear about the founders of the Inn (that Venti may have known well – or at the very least, their ancestors). He may speak as if he's telling from a history book, but she unlocks the suite door dutifully.

It's expansive – a large bed across, a few dressers, a small table, and a private bath attached.

"This suite has many amenities that put Fontaine to shame. You'll find complimentary fruit bowl on the table, coals to heat the bath, and a relaxation basket is for every new guest. Robes, sleep masks, oils, and a book on Things to Do in Mondstadt can be found there.

...Although, I doubt you need it, Mister Bard. Please summon me if you need anything further."

She hides her face by tucking her hand down, setting the supplies like fresh towels onto the table before departing. The two remain in the doorway and Venti looks around in awe. What beautiful detail – it looks straight out of the Knights HQ! Too many adornments of lions and dragons for his taste on the wall, but – ]

What do you think?

[ Greta gets a gracious you have my gratitude that almost makes her stop again before she scurries out to leave them alone. unbeknownst to Zhongli, she's most certainly going to gossip – the pair of them do look a little odd together, but Zhongli doesn't care about those sorts of social perceptions.

in contrast to Venti, Zhongli takes a few strides in the room, looking quite like he belongs there. he guides Venti in by the shoulders, then closes the door quietly behind them with a click. ]

There's a lot of fine detail.

[ but it serves to distract Zhongli for the moment as he takes a walk around the room at his own, leisurely pace, hands clasped behind him by the wrist. he observes the flourishes on the walls, the craftwork of the desk, commenting on the wood (it was from Liyue), and then pausing at a picture hung over the bed.

it's a painting of Barbatos, done in a pastel oil paints, wings spread, details obscured in strokes of paint. it looks dreamy, most likely painted by someone who might've seen the Anemo Archon in a dream.

however, there's something curious about it.

there's a baby in the arms of the god in the painting. ]

Is that your child?

[ there's a lightness in his voice that's a little uncharacteristic of him. he's just ... he's curious, he wants to know about this mystery child. ]

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u thought u would get away with this before bed?

yes

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