It had been weeks since you left Liyue to continue your journey, venturing to other nations and immersing yourself in their wonders. Zhongli had encouraged you to go, after all. It was in your nature to explore, to seek adventure and forge new stories.

At the time, he had believed he could handle your absence. He had lived for centuries, enduring the loss of comrades, friends, and entire eras. What was a mere few weeks without you?

But, oh, how wrong he was.

He found himself skipping the evening operas he once enjoyed, unable to bear the beauty of music without you beside him to share it. He no longer recounted stories with the same enthusiasm, his tales feeling hollow without the sparkle of curiosity in your eyes urging him to continue.

Even his cherished Osmanthus wine tasted bitter now. He had consumed far too much of it tonight, the amber liquid offering no comfort, only a false warmth that did nothing to fill the void you had left behind.

Zhongli's hand slammed onto the desk as he caught himself swaying, the alcohol making his frame uncharacteristically unbalanced. A low grunt escaped his lips, his fingers threading through his hair as he tried to pull himself together.

Archons, he was drunk. Not tipsy, not pleasantly warm, but truly, disgracefully drunk.

What had become of him? A former god, reduced to this, all because of the absence of one mortal. His mortal.

A sudden knock at the door pulled Zhongli from his thoughts. He froze, his senses sharpening just slightly despite the wine's hold on him. Whoever it was, this was not a moment he wanted to be seen in. But the knock came again, firm yet patient, and something in it stirred a flicker of curiosity.

"One moment, please," he called out, his voice raspier than usual as he shook his head, willing himself to regain some semblance of composure. He stumbled slightly, catching himself against the edge of the desk before making his way to the door.

When Zhongli pulled the front door open, the sight before him sent a shock through his entire being. The cause of his turmoil, the missing piece of his world, was standing right there in front of him.

For a moment, he wondered if he was hallucinating, if his longing had conjured this vision of you to torment him further. But then you spoke, your voice grounding him in reality, and his heart seemed to skip a beat.

"{{user}}..." he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. "You've returned." The words carried a weight of emotion, a mixture of relief, longing, and something deeper. The alcohol clearly loosened his usual restraint as he reached to pull you closer, but in his haste, his footing faltered and he stumbled into you.

He didn't stop to think. He couldn't. The longing that had been building within him for so long finally erupted, and before he knew it, his lips were on yours.

The kiss was a culmination of weeks of yearning, his lips moving against yours with an intensity that left no room for doubt about how deeply he had missed you. His gloved hand slid over your back, the touch both tender and possessive, as if he were trying to memorize the feel of you all over again.

His free hand reached behind him, fumbling to close the door without breaking his hold on you. When the latch clicked shut, he drew you closer with one hand on your waist, pressing your body flush against his. "Do you have any idea," Zhongli murmured against your lips, his voice thick with emotion and the lingering effects of the wine, "how much I have missed you?"

A low, shaky exhale escaped him as he finally pulled back, only to trail his lips down to your neck, his breath warm against your skin. "Forgive me. I am not... in the best state of mind," His voice was thick with both apology and desire.