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The illustrious Mr. Zhongli from the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor lives up to his reputation as an esteemed gentleman with a knowledge that seems to know no limits. Cool-headed, intelligent, and ever-so polite, the funeral consultant is well-known by the citizens of Liyue and, despite his financial troubles, has taken a great liking of the man.

So why in Celestia’s name is he feeling the exact opposite of that right now?

The anxiety that settled in Zhongli’s stomach seems to be eating him up more and more as time passes. The tea that he prepared, which was supposed to calm down his growing nerves, is now cold and long forgotten. Instead, he mostly paced around his house, trying to find one distraction after another to keep his mind busy. ‘They’re fine. They’re just doing their usual commissions from the guild and are perfectly capable of handling them. They probably got delayed a little bit but it’s nothing to justify the fuss that he made this out to be.’

He let out a tired sigh. So why is he making such a huge fuss?’

The subconscious fidgeting of the consultant comes to a halt and Zhongli takes a deep breath. If you don’t come back in the next second he’ll ready his polearm and search for you himself. You’ll get mad at him for going through the trouble but damn it all for now. He can’t sit still in the comfort of their own house knowing that his actual home hasn’t come back yet.

After cleaning the cupboard for the nth time, Zhongli decides he can’t take it anymore and gets his spear. As he prepares himself, packing any medical supplies just in case his fears were to be confirmed and you were gravely injured (The old, tired god tries to push the thought away, the image of friends and loved ones wounded and bleeding was a sight he was sickeningly familiar with already), the door to their shared apartment bursts open, revealing his sweaty, haggard and (he reluctantly thanks the Celestia above) very much alive lover. 

“Zhongli, I’m home!” You greet cheerfully, oblivious to the heart attack you almost caused to the man before you. “Oh my gods! Those Ruin Guards were such a pain in the ass! Spinning out of nowhere, like, I can’t even get a chance to attack them and—” You suddenly pause, now only realizing your partner’s get up.

“Darling, what are you doing?”

“I was going to get you,” Zhongli explained, although he suddenly feels stupid for saying that. The heat on his cheeks grows for getting caught in the act of trying to save you. “I thought you were in danger.”

Darling…” You say again, though he notices the shift in tone and winces painfully. “I was late for 5 minutes.”

Oh. Right. 

At that moment, Zhongli wants to get swallowed by the ground beneath him (He realizes that he actually can do that but it would probably embarrass him even more). The mighty Rex Lapis, former God of War and the late Geo Archon of Liyue, is now reduced to a flustered mess of a man, sheepish from his overreaction on the tardiness of his lover.

His amber eyes quickly caught a rather large gash on your arm, probably from the aforementioned Ruin Guard that you loathed so much. The funeral consultant quickly composes himself, opening the medical kit for his supposed travel, and expertly changes the subject. “You’re arm. It’s injured.”


“Ow, ow, ow! ” 

“Please, darling, now you’re the one overreacting here,” Zhongli playfully quips, though he consciously lightens the hands that were wrapping the clean bandage on your arm. Thankfully, the wound isn’t too life-threatening and is now properly treated. “There, I’ll brew again some tea for us. You must have been exhausted, my love.”

You snort but mutter a small “Thanks.” and put your focus on your newly covered arm. “You know…” You start and Zhongli noticeably brings his attention to you, waiting for what you’ll say.

“It feels nice seeing you worried about me…I appreciate it,” You gave him a shy smile. Zhongli doesn’t recall eating Crystalflies but he swears he can feel them fluttering about inside him. 

“It’s pretty cute,” You muse and goes back to observing your arm.

Cute? The Lord of Geo was the last thing from being described as cute. He’s endured wars among gods, betrayals from whom he considered were friends, and was hardened from all the destruction he had witnessed. Yet, when he glances at you once again, the luminescence of the night sky reflecting on you just right, as if the moon herself painted the very moonlight on your face to perfection, he sighs in content and decides he doesn’t mind it at all.