[Venti seems to be coming around, which is a relief. Zhongli didn't realize until now just how much his friend is like the moon guiding him when the world is darkest. Sometimes the moon disappears from the sun's light and turns invisible in the sky, but they've somehow managed to get through it.]

If you wanted to be rid of me, you should have left me in that manhole. I'm afraid it's too late now. No matter what you say or do, I'll always remain. Such is the weight of stone, I fear.

[He says it so... backwards, but this is his way of teasing, as they both know.]

... That's right. The pain of losing someone doesn't disappear, it just becomes easier to handle. You learn how to hold onto that grief while you carry other things, and eventually, you barely notice it in your hand next to everything else. But when it's the only thing you're holding in your hands, you remember it keenly. That isn't necessarily a bad thing.

[He squeezes Venti's hand in return. His hand looks strange without a glove on it-- to Zhongli, anyway. Yet the amber leylines coursing down his arm to his fingertips glow in a warm and familiar way, content to radiate a little sunlight at the moon until it can produce its own.]

A sunrise I never grow tired of.

[He smiles a little.]

... Hm. Close your eyes for a moment.

[It sounds like he's about to kiss Venti. That's not what's going to happen, though.]