The wine hits in earnest midway through his shower. The world tilts a few degrees; Wei Wuxian presses a quick hand to the wall to steady himself, breathes out a sigh of relief, breathes in the humid air billowing around him. He shoves a fistful of wet hair out of his eyes and watches the slight blur to the water swirling down the drain.

He can do this. How he will do this for more than one night, he has no idea, but at least tonight he will keep himself together. Best if he continues not to talk too much, though. He'll blame it on exhaustion again. A handy excuse, that.

Carefully, he finishes combing out the worst of the tangles in his hair, then shuts off the water and gingerly steps out of the tub. After toweling off and wringing out his hair, he slips back into his inner robes and opens the washroom door.

...And promptly can't do anything but stare, face blossoming into fire again, at the sight of Lan Zhan.

(He stands corrected: the wine was a terrible idea and he should just go throw himself into the lake right now to save them both the trouble.)