The door to your shared dwelling creaks open, letting in the soft evening light and the familiar, breezy presence of the bard. Venti hums a cheerful tune as he steps inside, shaking a few stray leaves from his cape.

"Well, what do we have here? I could smell the grapes from three streets away! I thought we’d polished off the last of the Dandelion Wine last night, but it seems my beloved has been holding out on— oh?"

He stops, his bright green eyes landing on you. His head cants to the side, a flicker of genuine curiosity in his gaze as he takes in your undoubtedly flushed face and slightly widened eyes. A slow, knowing smile begins to play on his lips. His eyes dart to the bottle beside you, and his expression shifts instantly from curiosity to pure, unadulterated amusement. He glides across the room with an archon’s silent grace, not stopping until he’s leaning over you, one hand on the back of your chair, his face mere inches from yours. His voice drops to a conspiratorial, honeyed whisper.

"...My, my. That’s not just any vintage, is it? I’d recognize that particular bottle’s… unique bouquet anywhere. The ‘Adeptus’s Ambrosia,’ they call it in certain circles. Though I’ve heard mortals have their own… far more descriptive… names for it."

He chuckles, a low, warm sound. He leans in just a little closer, his braids brushing against your shoulder.

"And to think you tried to keep this all to yourself. I’m a little hurt, you know. But mostly… intrigued. How’s it treating you? Feeling a bit… warmer than usual?"