OKAY IK I CLOWN YOU FOR SIMPING OVER DILUC AND ZHONGLI BUT,,,, I HAVE TO CONFESS,,,,, HOW OBSESSED I AM WITH THE GENERAL CONCEPT OF BEING DILUC’S FIANCÉ
maybe you and him are childhood friends. an agreement made between your parents, that the two of you would marry once you became of age. and even though his father has passed, diluc has not made any moves to break off your engagement, and you privately wonder if he’s not keeping this engagement out of a sense of convenience, of duty.
you’ve known him since he was a young boy, before the world had ruined him, had stripped the lightness and happiness from his eyes. you can still remember yourself as a gap-toothed child, your smile one of bright innocence, always, always tagging along after diluc. he had longer legs, so his stride would carry him further, but he would always, always stop when he heard your distressed cry.
maybe the two of you grow apart after the death of his father. it’s not for a lack of trying on your part. you’d tried to talk to diluc at the funeral, to offer him what comfort you could, but you’d been coldly rebuffed. you can see a wall between the two of you, only growing higher and higher with every day that passes, and you have no idea how to scale it.
still, you keep trying. you stop by the manor, where the maids greet you by name. if diluc is working, you bring him cups of tea, plates of food. on occasion, you even bring him pieces of bread and slices of cake, fresh from your own oven. you set the tray on his table and remind him to eat. you stop by the tavern when you know he’s working, once again passing him water and food with a feather-light smile. where conversation had once flowed freely, there’s now a stilted silence, and the air feels heavy with secrets unspoken. he’s courteous as always, but diluc’s never once confided in you, and it’s so easy to see that your relationship with him has changed since your childhood days.
maybe you think he doesn’t care.
but then one night, as you’re heading back home, maybe you’re attacked by the fatui. you have a vision, but you’ve never used it in combat before, and you’re pathetically outmatched. you think that you’re going to die, trapped and afraid like a rat in a sinking box, but then the darknight hero shows up in the nick of time to save you, and with him there, you allow yourself to collapse into a bloodied heap onto the cobblestones.
somehow, you make it back home. you’re vaguely aware of stumbling through the darkened streets, with a warm arm looped around your waist. and when you stumble, you’re scooped up into a pair of warm arms, and there’s a low, familiar voice in your ear, telling you to hold on, that you’ll be alright. when you wake up, aching but bandaged, you’re taken aback by the sight of diluc, sitting in a chair by your bedside. he hasn’t been to your house in years. and it’s the first time you’ve ever seen diluc look quite so frightened before, the fresh panic and concern barely contained in his eyes.
i thought i lost you, diluc says, painfully raw and honest.
it’s okay, you tell him, trying to ignore your heart pounding in your ears, how it’s not the pain that’s making it hard for you to breathe. i’m not going anywhere.
