Mingjue's arms around him just has him moving closer, letting that warmth soak into him as his eyes close, Xichen breathing in and letting the familiar scents wrap around him, his fingers gripping Mingjue's robes. It's been months and he's been functioning, but the nights were the worst, the nightmares of watching Mingjue suffer like he had, of what he'd done in that state.

Of seeing his coffin. He makes another choked sound before trying to compose himself, to find words. "Da-ge...I..."