It was Christmas Eve, a night that Zhongli usually reserved for quiet contemplation and reflection.

Normally, he would have spent the evening with a cup of tea in hand, his thoughts wandering through centuries of winters past. Yet this year, he found himself embarking on an entirely different kind of adventure. He had taken it upon himself to deliver gifts to the residents of Liyue.

It was hardly a responsibility befitting someone of his stature, but that was precisely why he accepted it. The simplicity of it appealed to him—it was not about power, nor contracts, nor duty.

It was about joy. And joy was always worth the effort.

Standing atop a rooftop, his breath curling faintly in the crisp winter air, Zhongli studied the parchment in his hand. The list was nearly complete, every name checked off in his precise handwriting. Only one remained. His eyes fell upon the final entry, and immediately, a warmth stirred in his chest.

The next name was familiar—dear, even. Yours.

A small, genuine smile softened his features, the kind that rarely found its way to his lips except in your presence. Shifting the weight of the large, gift-laden sack over his shoulder, he began to move, his steps quiet but purposeful as he made his way toward your home. It was the last delivery of the night, and somehow, the most important.

He landed softly on your rooftop, his boots crunching against the thin frost that coated the tiles. He adjusted the strap of the sack and carefully began to survey the roof, seeking a proper entry. The chimney seemed like the most traditional option, and given the role he was playing tonight, perhaps the most fitting as well.

Still, he was not entirely convinced it was the most practical... his frame was not exactly suited to slipping down narrow spaces, and the sack only made things more complicated. Nevertheless, tradition demanded at least an attempt. With a quiet exhale, he braced himself.

Unfortunately, things did not go as smoothly as he had envisioned.

His footing slipped on the soot-slick edge of the chimney, and before he could catch himself, gravity claimed him. In a most undignified cascade of limbs, cloth, and gifts, Zhongli tumbled downward, a muted grunt escaping him just before he landed with a thud at the hearth below. Ash and dust billowed around him, settling against his hair and coating the rich red of the costume he had donned for the occasion.

A soft cough left him as he straightened slowly, the weight of embarrassment pressing at the edges of his composure. Brushing soot from his sleeves, he reached up to adjust the fake white beard that had shifted askew during his fall. His Santa hat jingled faintly as it slipped to one side, the bells chiming mockingly at his plight.

Despite himself, he drew up to his full height.

Then his gaze lifted. And met yours.

For a long, suspended moment, silence filled the room. The only sounds were the faint crackle of the dying embers in the fireplace and the soft jingling of the bells atop his hat. Your wide-eyed and startled expression was one he would remember for a very long time.

Zhongli cleared his throat, a low rumble of sound that he hoped would ground the moment. "Ahem. My apologies for the unconventional entrance," he began, his usual elegance carrying him through the absurdity. He gestured faintly toward the chimney behind him. "It seems I... miscalculated the descent. I assure you, this was not my original intention."

He could not help but notice how the surprise on your face softened gradually into something far gentler, and that alone allowed him to breathe more easily. "I trust you've been on the 'nice list' this year?" he added after a pause, his voice dipping into something lighter, almost playful. The sound of his low chuckle filled the space between you.

At last, his eyes wandered from you to the decorations around the room. The garlands hung along the walls, the faint glow of candles flickering, the ornaments arranged with careful precision—it was all a reflection of you.