[Dohalim says nothing, but just waves Zhongli away. eyes trail back to stare at the wall of the tub, as he lets the slowly cooling water melt away that battle grime on his skin. he lets himself go to look down at his hands, now mostly clean, save for the more stubborn of blood flecks in the cuticles of his otherwise perfectly manicured nails. fingers rub vigorously at them, more concentrated on that than whether or not Zhongli had left. when he does eventually look up, he'll notice that he's alone again.
which proves to be worse for his mental state, as he suspected. incoherent whispers in the back of his mind start to form thoughts, this time targeting the other man. words that repeat to him, telling him that Zhongli has no right to speak of things he doesn't know about, has no right to lecture him on it. anger simmers underneath the surface, and he can feel his emotions start to slip from his grasp again, but he manages to keep some sort of hold as another servant comes to help him with the rest of his bath.
words aren't exchanged between the both of them, though it's hard to miss the concerned, yet wary way the attendant looks at him as he gently washes him. silence is broken by the sounds of water, but in Dohalim's mind, those thoughts become louder and louder. he almost misses it when the servant mentions that he should get up and into a change of clean, dry clothes. time passes by slowly yet quickly at the same time, and after finally being put in something more comfortable and being led to his bed, Dohalim speaks softly, yet sternly]
Please fetch Zhongli for me.
[he needn't ask twice as the servant nods, and with the bundle of dirtied clothes and towel in hand, Dohalim is left alone again. the anger is not like it was before, but it's enough to grip at him, almost suffocate him. the fleeting hold of control he has over himself starts to slip again]
no subject
which proves to be worse for his mental state, as he suspected. incoherent whispers in the back of his mind start to form thoughts, this time targeting the other man. words that repeat to him, telling him that Zhongli has no right to speak of things he doesn't know about, has no right to lecture him on it. anger simmers underneath the surface, and he can feel his emotions start to slip from his grasp again, but he manages to keep some sort of hold as another servant comes to help him with the rest of his bath.
words aren't exchanged between the both of them, though it's hard to miss the concerned, yet wary way the attendant looks at him as he gently washes him. silence is broken by the sounds of water, but in Dohalim's mind, those thoughts become louder and louder. he almost misses it when the servant mentions that he should get up and into a change of clean, dry clothes. time passes by slowly yet quickly at the same time, and after finally being put in something more comfortable and being led to his bed, Dohalim speaks softly, yet sternly]
Please fetch Zhongli for me.
[he needn't ask twice as the servant nods, and with the bundle of dirtied clothes and towel in hand, Dohalim is left alone again. the anger is not like it was before, but it's enough to grip at him, almost suffocate him. the fleeting hold of control he has over himself starts to slip again]