Archive of Our Own ^beta

As a member of the Adventurers Guild, you were no strange to fighting. You had your Vision, which helped a lot to clear domains of monsters, and in some common situations. Today was no different from others, just some daily comissions and hilichurls to get rid of. However, you did not expect to run into an Abyss Mage, a Cryo one at that, when you were working. It's not that you hadn't fought them before, but today you were already tired, and you just weren't ready for it.

You won. You always did, but at what cost? Was it really winning when you were going to struggle the rest of the week due to the effort you had to put? You forced to ask yourself that. As you grew into your powers, you also found your weaknesses, and your body yelled at you for some rest. Your injuries were all over the place right now: some scratches, some red spots that would definitely bruise later, and some shallow cuts in your arms and face.

The Dawn Winery was the closest to your location, and you were sure your legs would fail you before getting to the city. You were well acquainted with Diluc, in fact, some whispers in Mondstadt dreamed of you being something more than friends. Truthfully, you weren't, but it's not like your eyes didn't light up at the sight of his red hair, or like you could just stop feeling nervous around him. If you didn't know better, you'd think you were suffering from a cardiac disease. Except you knew better, you just refused to act upon it. Still, you hoped; you couldn't help it.

At the sight of the Winery, you sighed in relief, desperate to just get inside and be able to treat your wounds. Diluc was outside, talking with Adelinde and a few other maids about the arrangements of the garden: a festival was coming, and the place had been chosen to celebrate it. Nothing the ever-so-full-of-work man couldn't handle.

You locked eyes, still a few meters apart, and you raised your hand to wave at him shyly: it was strange, letting him see you like this. Vulnerable and bent, dirty, injured: not quite the best to conquer his heart. You were eager to lock yourself up in the bathroom, get clean, and leave, so he could forget about the image of you like this as soon as possible. Spoiler alert: he wasn't letting that happen.

"What happened to you?" He asked, worry painting his face.

"Hello to you too, Diluc," You replied, earning a small smile from him before he went back to analyze your current state and frowning. All you wanted was to cover yourself up, broken under his gaze. "I just had a few comissions to do and I ran into a few more monsters than I expected. That and an abyss mage, which was just, the cherry on top. I just— This was closest to were I was and I was wondering if I could just go inside and tend my wounds. I won't bother you much more, I know you're busy."

You tried to force a laugh as you scratched your head a little, but after you finally stayed put in a place, your legs were starting to feel heavier, and all you wanted was to just sleep for at least two days straight. That wasn't happening, though.

"Let me help you."

"Wha—No, that's fine, I really don't want to intrude or delay your work and it's not that bad at—"

"I want to. Let me help you," He insisted, looking at you and softly reaching out to take your hand. "Work can wait. Let's go inside."

He led you upstairs to a private bathroom, packed full of different medical supplies. Of course, you thought, he certainly needed to keep those near him. After all, he was the Darknight Hero. The name was still silly, but you didn't know what else to call it. It's not like he wasn't, indeed, a hero. Diluc motioned his hands towards a stool, indicating you to sit down, and you knew there was no point in insisting: he would handle most, if not all, of it. He took off his gloves, exposing the skin of his hands, and grabbed a bottle of alcohol to drench a small cloth.

As he got closer, you held your breath. You didn't remember a time he was this near to you, towing over you, with a longing expression adorning his features as he cleaned the wounds on your arm in a delicate way. Your thigh was next, and he kneeled on the ground to do it properly; and if you weren't already melting, you'd definitely make a puddle on the floor the second he passed on to your face.

You couldn't bring yourself to look into his fire eyes. Not when he stood tall over you, and you knew you were causing him discomfort. Ashamed was the perfect word to describe how you felt.

"I think I get you now," He confessed, softly, as he gently applied a bandaid to the cut over your eyebrow. "I just remembered the day you freaked out over one of my injuries, and I get it. I don't like seeing you like this, either." It was just a whisper at the end, but you still heard it.

"I'm sorry for bothering you, Diluc," You muttered, blushing from the embarrasment. "I didn't mean to."

"That's not what I meant," He told you, and you couldn't keep avoiding his gaze anymore. When you looked into his eyes, you felt something different. You saw something that you were sure wasn't there before, and he dropped the cloth over a makeshift table to caress your cheek with his thumb. "I don't like seeing you hurt not because it bothers me; but because it pains me."

Diluc isn't soft, you thought to yourself. His hands are rough and calloused under his gloves; his eyes and hair could never stop burning; and his face was all sharp edges: cheekbones, jawline, everything. He was forged in cruel fires, harsh words of betrayal and still, he was tender and kind. Touching him didn't cut your hand, even if it might have looked like it would; you didn't burn. It was just warm, the way his hand rested on your cheek, and his eyes were filled with the same longing yours were. He leaned down, to press a chaste kiss on your forehead, still holding your face. Your heartbeat picked up its pace, and the soft blush was probably crimson red now.

The corner of his mouth curved up at the sight, and that was it: you needed to kiss it. To kiss him, to break free of the silent chains opressing your feelings. He must have thought the same thing, cause in a second he was a few centimeters away from your lips, and your breaths mingled with each other. He looked at you, searching for a sign to either continue or just stop, and you nodded as you closed your eyes: it was okay. Certainly, it was more than so, because his lips softly touched yours. The kiss was slow, yet passionate, and full of yearning. Both of you desired this, from the depths of your soul. You tangled your hands in his hair, as he gently cradled your face with his.

As you separated, you stood up with all the stregth you could gather, and looked at him: plump red lips, messed-up hair, and eyes filled with love. You didn't want to forget this moment; this Diluc.

"I must admit I've wanted to do that for a while," He confessed and you giggled, young, and so in love with him. "Come here."

He opened up his arms just enough to grab you by the waist, and you laced up yours around his neck. He was warm, like he always was, and yet, this was different. You could faintly smell wine on his shirt, and smoke, and it was lovingly intoxicating. You could get used to this.