[ A roof over one's head was the greatest gift someone could be given. Venti, as much as he had drank last night, was no stranger to finding refuge in the homes of others. Despite his lackluster show of manners in bars and taverns, he is quite a good guest.

After falling asleep lazily with his corset undone and shirt loosely draped against his frame. He hadn't decided to dig for any spare clothes, if there was any, and instead found himself just – gone. He had entered a fit of exhaustion staying up so late with Zhongli but he wouldn't trade it for anything. Sleep would rejuvenate him – he, of all people, would know.

Snoring, face plastered and braids loosely undone to his face. Venti dreams of fireworks, dreams of chilled wine on his tongue, and... of Zhongli. It had been a pleasant dream, one that makes the dumb boy glow in his sleep but all good things come to an end. He wakes up a little after Zhongli, makes his bed and groggily drags his corset to the floor like some damn child does a blanket. ]

Zhongli?

[ He calls out, following the smell that wafts through the air. Venti sees his host and he gives a half-hearted wave followed by a yawn. ]

Please don't tell me it's past noon. I tried to get up when I heard the birds singing but... the bed was far too convincing to get me to stay.