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You had always thought of Diluc Ragnvindr as a man who didn't love.
You knew he was a man who cared, as evidenced by his dedication to protecting the people of Mondstadt as its cavalry captain first and famed Darknight Hero next, but Diluc as a man who loved? You couldn't help but feel as if the thought was a tad bit preposterous.
You didn't know why the thought of him falling in love seemed strange to you. Diluc was Mondstadt's most eligible bachelor, after all, and from the sea of suitors and bevy of beauties you'd seen try their hand at pursuing him, the thought of Diluc not falling in love with any of them seemed more absurd in hindsight.
…But you did know, though. You just refused to admit it—out loud, at least—because within the deepest, most selfish depths of your heart, the only reason you could never see Diluc falling in love was that you couldn't stand the thought of him falling in love with anyone else but you.
No matter how hard you tried, you simply couldn't help it. The harder you tried to accept the truth that the likelihood of Diluc ever returning your feelings was slim, especially with the broad pool of eager potential lovers he had at his disposal, the tighter jealousy seemed to grip your heart. You tried your best not to let your feelings blind you and turn you into a spiteful fool, as the last thing you ever wanted was to hurt Diluc and ruin the friendship the two of you had, but you swore the pain of being battered by a hilichurl's club or the burning flames of a pyro abyss mage's attack felt like nothing compared to the pain of having to pretend all was well and that you didn't regularly cry yourself to sleep at night from the constant heartache of loving Diluc in vain.
You reminisce on those nights with a chuckle, but the single, stinging tear that rolls down your cheek and drips down onto the invitation you hold betrays your true feelings. You swiftly blink away the rest of the tears you feel beginning to form—for gods’ sake, you were a grown adult, why were you still tearing up like a crybaby?—and reread the invitation for the umpteenth time since you had received it.
You are cordially invited to the wedding of Sir Diluc Ragnvindr of Mondstadt, and his most esteemed fiancée of Fontaine, reads the invitation. Reception to follow.
Folding the invitation closed, you place it back into its envelope and onto your desk, your gaze lingering upon it momentarily. Then, you immediately begin burying yourself in your paperwork, even as the tears you had tried to blink away begin to come back with a vengeance.
You remember the way the late afternoon sunlight had filtered in through the windows of the Ordo Favonius headquarters as you briskly walked through its halls. Hues of orange and pink filled the otherwise dim corridors, making for an ethereal sight that looked just as warm as the sun felt on your skin.
In contrast to the warm environment around you, however, you, in turn, were practically brimming with excitement and energy. Earlier that day, you had met with the Grand Master, and you feared that during the said meeting he would scold you for your lackluster performance as a knight—but instead, it turned out to be quite the opposite.
"Keep up the good work, and you'll surely be a lieutenant in no time," were the Grand Master's parting words to you, with an encouraging grin on his face. At that moment, you felt as if you couldn't be happier—until the thought of celebrating the occasion with Diluc crossed your mind.
"Diluc!" You called, making your way to the headquarters’ courtyard where you knew the young cavalry captain would be. "Diluc, are you there?"
"En garde!"
The sharp cry and succeeding clash of swords you heard briefly stunned you, but you pressed on. Quickening your steps, you entered the courtyard and found Diluc practicing his swordsmanship with none other than Jean Gunnhildr, a fellow knight whom you were acquaintances with and whom you knew to be Diluc's childhood friend.
You watched as the two of them faced off against one another, mesmerized by the difference in their swordplay. While Jean dealt swift strikes with her sword, handling it as if it were as light as air, Diluc's movements were much more heavy-handed and forceful. Beads of sweat and strands of loose hair stuck to their faces, and the sight of their silhouettes clashing against the sunset made you feel as if you were watching a live painting. They’re beautiful, you remember thinking. They’re beautiful together.
The moment Jean had the upper hand and knocked Diluc's sword to the ground, though, was the moment all your wondrous thoughts had disappeared; and your sentiments quickly soured from admiration to envy. As Jean pointed her sword at Diluc with a confident smirk, his flushed face, look of awe, and impressed smile awoke the beginnings of something ugly within you.
"Congratulations," He tells her. "Your training has certainly paid off, I must say."
"Oh, thanks," Is Jean's bashful reply, immediately lowering her sword to scratch the back of her head in modest shyness. "You've improved, too. I mean, not that you were ever bad, I—"
"No, no, I understand," Diluc's chuckle is light and airy, slightly soothing the bitter flames beginning to spread in your heart with the way it sounded like music to your ears. "But I truly am impressed, Jean. I'm looking forward to the next time we can practice together."
"Really?" The excitement in her voice is sincere. "But you've been so busy with your ongoing expeditions, I'd hate to trouble you if it were inconvenient for us to—"
"Don't worry about it. I'll make sure to find some time for you when I can."
"Oh, but you really don't have to..."
"Diluc," You interrupt, your tone severe and dripping with venom—but all it took were the startled looks on Jean and Diluc's faces for you to immediately falter.
"Ah, I'm sorry, was I... interrupting something?"
"No, you weren't," Diluc tells you, the smile on his face immediately putting you at ease. "Jean and I just finished practicing. Oh, and that reminds me—how did your meeting with the Grand Master go?"
You immediately perk up at the mention of it.
"Well, it's what I came here for, actually. It, um, it went great, and I... I wanted to ask if you wanted to celebrate the occasion with me."
"What happened?" You had been so captivated by the smile on Diluc's face that you had nearly forgotten Jean was with you, her blue eyes looking at you with eager curiosity.
"He told me that my progress was impressive and that I could be a lieutenant soon if I kept it up."
"That does sound like something worth celebrating," Diluc affirms, while Jean claps her hands enthusiastically.
"I heard the canteen is serving Sweet Madames today," You tell them. "The two of you can go on ahead if you'd like, I'll just be heading back to the dormitory to grab my coin pouch."
"No need," Diluc waves his hand at you. "Father's bartending tonight, and I'm sure he would be more than willing to cook up a celebratory meal for the occasion."
"But—"
"Ah-ah, no buts. And don't worry about having to pay—it'll be my treat. It's you we're celebrating, after all."
You were no divine disciple of the gods, but you swore you felt yourself ascend to Celestia at that moment. You nodded enthusiastically.
"Okay. That—that sounds great."
"Will I be coming too?" Jean asked, back to being hesitant and shy. "It's fine if the two of you would rather go by yourselves, I understand if I wasn't meant to come along—"
"Nonsense," You tell her, all the animosity you had suddenly harbored for her disappearing just as fast. "Of course you can come with us. The more the merrier, right?"
The look of surprise on Jean’s face gives way to a giggle and a smile.
"I suppose, yes."
"You don’t mind waiting for us to freshen up though, do you?" Diluc asks. "I just know I'll be in for a scolding if Father sees me come into the tavern looking like a sweaty boar..."
Balls and banquets were the worst for multiple reasons. First were the crowds, of which the thought of being lost in and swallowed up by caused you great anxiety, second were the stuffy and very, very uncomfortable formal wear you despised wearing even if you admittedly looked good in them, and third was the sight of Diluc dancing with the most dashingly handsome and breathtakingly beautiful young men and women of the land—all of whom you reckoned were more than likely infatuated with him.
Oh, how you loathed watching him dance with others because it almost always caused your temper to flare up like an ugly, envious flame. You knew it was petty, you knew it was childish, and you especially knew you had no right to feel such a way when you were no more than a good friend and a colleague to him, but even though you were aware of how stupid your feelings were, you remained weak to the foolish wills of your heart, which was exactly how you had found yourself boring holes into the back of the head of a boy who was currently waltzing with Diluc.
The boy was clearly starstruck by him, his eyes wide and his steps stumbling as he tried to keep up with Diluc's graceful maneuvering across the dance floor. The orchestra was lively, and the crowd of ballroom-goers dancing along to the music they played was even livelier, but to you, it all sounded grating, like nails being dragged across a chalkboard over and over again. Gods, how you’d managed to smile and nod along all night without once screaming your lungs out at the agony you were currently enduring was but a mystery to you.
Your fingers itched to swipe a goblet of wine off the table, but with the way Master Crepus Ragnvindr was keeping a close watch on all the younger attendants that drew near where the wine was being served, you figured gritting your teeth through the pain sober was better than getting caught red-handed.
At long last, the music had finally come to an end, and you watched as Diluc bowed to his dancing partner respectfully—not missing the way the boy’s face flushed as he stammered a meek little "Thanks!" before disappearing into the crowd. You breathed out a sigh of relief, but said relief was only momentary, as it was very quickly punched out of your lungs by the sight of Diluc turning around and swiftly making his way towards you.
"Did you, uh, have fun?" Oh, how you wanted nothing more than to pummel your face in hearing the sound of your own timid voice.
"Did it look like I did?" Diluc's tone was unreadable, verging on neither sarcastic, nor curious, nor honest. You try your best at a nonchalant shrug.
"Don't know, really."
Diluc hums thoughtfully. You glance around to see that the crowd had mostly dissipated, returning to the various corners of the ballroom to mingle with one another.
"If you'd like, we could go to the balcony together," You offer. "Just to get some fresh air, you know?"
He nods. "I think I'd like that."
Diluc tells his father where the two of you were going, turning around to give you a thumbs-up. You grin at him and, without thinking, grab his hand as you make your way towards the balcony.
You hadn't even realized what you had done until he swiftly retracted his hand from your grip, almost as if he had been burned by your touch—ironic, especially considering he was the one with a pyro vision. A flush quickly creeps up your neck and colors your cheeks as you unsuccessfully try and stammer out an apology.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I—"
"It's fine," Diluc reassures you, which does nothing to reassure you at all. "I was just... a little surprised. Here."
He offers his hand up for you to hold again, and the small smile he has on his face as he does so is enough to make you turn away from him, lest you let him see you turn cherry red and bashful at his offer. "No, I... you don't have to. Let's just go."
A comfortable silence quickly falls between the two of you on the way to the balcony. The evening breeze is gentle, cold but not too chilly, tempering the flush of your neck and cheeks. It doesn't take long before you finally approach the edge of the terrace with Diluc following suit, placing your elbows upon the marble railing and letting out a long sigh.
"Have you been enjoying the evening?" Diluc asks you.
"I... kind of haven't, really," Is your honest reply. "Balls, banquets—they just aren't my favorite, you know?"
He chuckles at that.
"I understand. They aren't my favorite, either."
"For not being your favorite, you sure do seem to act like they are."
"The key word being act," Diluc playfully remarks, and you can't suppress the grin that instantly plasters itself onto your face at his humorous tone. "In fact, I'm sure that if I wasn't already cavalry captain, I would excel as a member of a theatre troupe."
"Oh yeah? Well, I believe you."
Another easy silence fills the air. As you glanced up at the starry sky, you couldn't help but think of how funny it was that while the sight of Diluc with someone else never failed to dampen your mood, Diluc's company, in turn, always counteracted it—the power Diluc didn’t even know he had over you was truly nothing short of ridiculous.
You were just about to lose yourself in more mundane thoughts when a bright flash in the sky caught your eye.
"A shooting star," Diluc uttered beside you. You turned to face him.
"Well, what are you waiting for? Make a wish!"
Diluc briefly glanced at you before turning his attention back to the falling star. "I wish for you to become a lieutenant of the Knights of Favonius, and for the two of us to celebrate such an achievement with the grandest buffet Mondstadt has ever seen."
"Oh, you idiot!" You cried, lightly smacking him on the shoulder. "You aren't supposed to wish out loud! If you do, then your wish won't come true!"
The momentary look of genuine panic that writes itself on his face nearly makes you laugh, but you maintain your dramatic façade, placing a hand over your forehead despairingly.
"Now I'll never be a lieutenant! Curse you, Diluc Ragnvindr! Curse you and your well-wishes towards me!"
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Diluc's genuinely apologetic tone finally makes you crack. You burst into laughter, with Diluc following not long after, the sound of it echoing through the cold night air.
The star disappears into the dark of the night sky as the both of you recover from your laughter.
"Did you wish for anything?" Diluc inquires, and you nod in response.
"I did."
"What did you wish for?"
"What, do you not want my wish to come true either?" You roll your eyes, smacking his shoulder again. You giggle as Diluc feigns hurt and rubs at the spot where you had smacked him, all the while feeling silently grateful that the darkness of the night was obscuring the flush that had once again spread across your face—because the second you’d noticed the shooting star making its way across the sky, only one wish came to mind.
I wish Diluc all the happiness the world has to offer, and for me to stay by his side, no matter what happens.
But your wish had failed to come true. In fact, the exact opposite had ended up coming true, and now it almost felt as if you were living through some sort of surreal nightmare that you desperately wanted to wake up from.
Crepus Ragnvindr was dead. Though you weren't certain of the exact circumstances of his death, you obviously didn't need to know how he died to know how devastating it must have been for Diluc, his son, who you knew loved his father just as much as his father loved him.
You remember just having left the library the moment Diluc had stormed out of the Ordo Favonius's main office, his knight's tailcoat and attached pyro vision nowhere to be seen on him as he slammed the doors shut. A deafening silence fell over the entire headquarters, the loud slam echoing deep within the building's walls—so much so that you could almost feel it rattle your bones.
You had attempted to visit Diluc several times after that day, but each time, you would be turned down at the door of the Ragnvindr estate by a sullen and apologetic Adelinde. "I apologize, but Master Diluc has requested not to let anyone see him at the moment," was what she would always say.
In the aftermath of his father's death, Diluc had become near-unrecognizable. The Diluc that you once knew—the bright, passionate Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius who smiled and laughed and was happy—it was clear that Diluc was no more, and instead he had now become Diluc, a shell of his former self, hardened yet clearly broken, the cavalry captain who had fallen from grace and had seemingly never laughed, smiled, or felt happy once in his life.
The change was heartbreaking to witness, but as much as you wanted to help him, you knew you were powerless to do anything. Nothing you could do could turn back time, or revive his father, or save him from the pit of grief and sorrow he had buried himself in—and so, in order not to hassle him any further and trouble him more than he already likely felt he was, you kept your distance.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. Eventually, those months turned into years—and not once within that span of time did you hear anything from Diluc. It had gotten to the point where you had finally given in to your fears that something terrible must've happened to him, but upon your arrival at the Dawn Winery to inquire about his whereabouts, Elzer had promptly informed you that Diluc was fortunately very much alive, but that he had departed elsewhere, of which Elzer had little knowledge of other than that Diluc had told him it would be a long time before he would eventually return.
Though you were mostly relieved, profusely thanking Elzer before leaving, you couldn't help but feel a lingering sliver of disappointment and unease as you rode back to the city.
Just where was Diluc? What was he up to? How long would it be until he would return? Could he possibly be in danger? Were the thoughts that rotated in your head, almost like a torturous wheel of worry. Is Diluc okay?
Those questions would eventually be answered one fateful night as you entered the Angel's Share. Ever since Diluc held that small celebratory dinner for you courtesy of his father, you had become a regular at the tavern, first for its apple cider and hearty meals, and then for its alcohol once you had come of age. The absence of Diluc and Crepus weighed heavily on you each time you entered the premises, but the lingering memories you had of the many breakfasts, lunches, and dinners you shared with Diluc and the polite chit-chat you sometimes exchanged with Crepus by the bar filled you with a sense of nostalgic warmth.
Fully expecting Charles to be the one bartending for the evening, you quietly sat on one of the bar’s stools, sighed, and rubbed your eyes.
“The usual, please,” You mumbled.
“And what would the usual be?”
The speed at which you ripped your hands away from your eyes was embarrassing, but you didn't care. You couldn't even bring yourself to give a single flying fuck about it with how Diluc Ragnvindr was standing before your very eyes, nonchalantly cleaning a dirty glass as if he had always been here and hadn't been gone for years.
You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry. You wanted to laugh. You wanted to say something, anything—but all that managed to tumble out of your mouth was a meek “Dandelion… dandelion wine with sparkling water and a sunsettia slice, please.”
Diluc nodded. “Coming right up.”
Words continued to desperately try and crawl out of your throat with no luck. You wanted to say everything all at once, but you had no clue where to even start. What happened to you? How have you been? Why did you leave? Are you okay?
You knew you looked like a fool struggling to keep up with the rapid pace of your thoughts. Every time you opened your mouth to try and say something, a new barrage of words would clog up your esophagus, forcing your mouth to shut again. Eventually, you resigned yourself to saying the first batch of words that would come to mind the moment you opened your mouth once more.
"I’m glad you’re back," is the first thing you say to him. You try your best not to facepalm at your choice of words. "I... I really am."
Diluc responds with a hum and a slide of your finished drink towards you. You move to fetch your coin pouch, but Diluc stops you with a wave of his hands.
"No need to pay," He tells you. "It's on the house."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I am."
You're once again reminded of how much Diluc had changed in the years since his father's untimely passing. The Diluc before you now seems rather brooding and much less talkative, not to mention considerably colder, but as you sip at your drink and blink in surprise at how delicious it tasted, a familiar twinkle in his eyes at your reaction reminded you that, at his very core, he was still the same Diluc that you knew.
Regardless of who he was now, he was still the same Diluc that you befriended—and the very same Diluc that you loved.
Catching up was slow and especially bittersweet. Where you knew the Diluc of old would freely recall his travels with you in between sips of grape juice, the Diluc before you now would give brief, vague, and outright evasive answers each time you inquired about his travels and his time away from Mondstadt—but that was fine by you. You weren't really hurt by the fact that Diluc had chosen not to let his guard down in front of you, as it was only understandable that he would do so after all that he had gone through—and despite lacking the nuance you wanted it to have, what you had said upon seeing him for the first time rang true; you were glad he was back, regardless of how he now acted or who he now was.
It did not take long for you to both fall back into old habits, though. While Diluc remained prudent and formal (if a little stiff) around you, you weren't about to complain about it when the two of you were back to eating breakfast and dinner together at the tavern just like old times. When you had told him about your promotion to lieutenant of the Knights of Favonius, another momentary twinkle had flickered in his ruby-red eyes, but it had disappeared as fast as it came.
Most unfortunately for you, however, was that with Diluc's return came the return of your feelings—feelings you thought had all but faded in the wake of his absence. Without him around for your fickle heart to flutter or ache over, you figured your feelings were as good as dead, but you were quickly proven wrong as the two of you slowly began to reconcile and re-establish your friendship. The more time you spent with him, the more you began to realize the familiar feelings you had once endured as a lovesick teenager had come back full force.
You felt excited waking up in the morning and leaving the headquarters in the evening to have a meal with him. You worried and fretted about your appearance, constantly smoothing your clothes and hair out to make sure you looked your best in front of him. You felt nervousness to the point that you'd sometimes be rendered speechless by the sound of your pounding heartbeat filling your ears, as even though it had been months since his return you still couldn't fully comprehend that after so long, Diluc was back, Diluc hadn't forgotten about you, Diluc was here, alive and well, walking alongside you, and oh, if his hand was only a tad bit closer to yours…
And, of course, you could never forget the oh-so-familiar feeling of jealousy—ugly, ugly jealousy.
Which was exactly what you felt grip your chest the moment you saw Diluc talk to her right after the welcoming ceremony he had co-hosted with Jean for her diplomatic delegation.
She was a diplomat from Fontaine, a position of prestige that you knew either the most hardworking or the most influential and high-born of her homeland could take. She belonged to the latter category of diplomats, and it definitely showed through her extravagant outfits and the perfume she wore that smelled like it would cost you all the mora you would ever make in your lifetime. She was… polite, you supposed, but there was a clear divide between who she treated politely and who she treated nicely—like how she treated everyone else around her and how she treated Diluc.
And boy, oh boy, did she treat Diluc nicely . She didn't just treat him nicely, though—in fact, she treated him as if he was her Prince Charming, always making him come to her aid whenever she needed something, like handing over her parasol, giving her a tour of the city, letting her try the various drinks and delicacies the Angel's Share had to offer, or simply conversing with her and keeping her company as he tended the bar and to the customers. Working your way up the ranks to become lieutenant came with its fair share of bullshit you had to put up with, but none of what you’d endured ever came close to being as excruciating as hearing her shrill little giggle each time Diluc would politely kiss her hand.
You would never admit it to anyone else for obvious reasons, and even to yourself you avoided lingering on it for too long, but... you hated it. You hated the sight of them together. You hated the fact that it was clear as day that she had fallen in love with Diluc at first sight, her smitten gaze not once leaving him as he and Jean welcomed her and her fellow diplomats to Mondstadt. You hated the way she constantly clung to him, practically hanging off of his arm whenever and wherever she could. You hated her shamelessness when it came to flirting with him, the line between her pleasantries and her coquettishness practically nonexistent—sometimes you had to turn away in embarrassment hearing and seeing Diluc trying to dodge each and every one of her bold advances as graciously as possible.
But if there was one thing that you really, truly hated the most out of all that you’d had to witness so far, it was the fact that her efforts actually seemed to be working.
Ever so slowly, Diluc began to change. The tense air that constantly seemed to hang around him began to recede, replacing itself with a warm ease that you hadn't felt from him in years. He chuckled much more often. The ghost of a smile would make itself known on his face from time to time. The twinkling in his eyes that you had only been able to see twice—and on both occasions very briefly—stayed for much longer now, but only whenever he looked at her.
Just like the way he currently looked at her as she ran her mouth off about whatever the hell she was talking about, all while the banquet the knights had held for her delegation went on full swing.
You didn’t know if the bitter taste in your mouth was from the wine you had been downing all night to unsuccessfully drown your sorrows, or if it was from the resentment you were trying (and failing) not to harbor at the sight before you. She and Diluc were far too close, her giggling insufferably shrill and his smile just a tad bit too wide to merely be polite as he conversed with her.
You knew you had to turn away before the wine would catch up to you. You knew you had to leave before the alcohol could fuck with your system and make you do things you wouldn’t dare do sober. But even if it hurt to see what was unfolding before you, you couldn’t look away—not when, for the first time in years, Diluc looked… happy.
And you wanted to be happy. You wanted to be happy seeing him happy because it was what he deserved after years of all the grief and heartbreak he had to endure all on his own. You wanted nothing more than to treasure each time his lips curled up into the smallest of smiles, cherish his quiet chuckles, bask in how much more easygoing he seemed to be—well, as easygoing as he could be with the way he was now, anyway—but... you couldn't.
Because it wasn’t you making him smile. It wasn’t you making him laugh. It wasn’t you easing the pain of his past with trivial conversations and idle chit-chat that you clearly recalled he hated. It wasn’t you who he clearly didn’t mind hanging off his arm and didn’t mind being shamelessly flirted with.
It wasn’t you who he was falling in love with.
It was her.
And all of it led you to where you currently stand now.
A shaky sigh escapes your lips as you lean your head against the wooden door in front of you. Your hands are trembling, your throat feels tight, and the vague urge to cry curls and lingers uncomfortably in your chest—but you have to do this. You’ve been putting this off for far too long, and it was now or never.
You let your quivering hands rap softly against the door and struggle to swallow down your heart that leaps into your throat at the "Come in" that you hear in response. Slowly, you turn the doorknob, entering the room with a hesitant caution—and come face to face with Diluc, adjusting his cravat in front of his bedroom mirror.
"You look nice," You offer sheepishly. "Did you... pick that out for yourself?"
"Oh, no, she did," Diluc answers. "She chose what I wore, and I chose hers."
"I... see."
"You said you wanted to talk to me?" His forthrightness takes you aback. "I'd be glad to spare you a moment, but I'd appreciate it if you made it brief. I'd rather not be late to my own wedding, after all."
"Of course! Yeah, I—of course," You stutter. "I just..."
This was it. The moment you’d been waiting for years to happen. The moment you simultaneously feared and dreamed of.
"Go on, I'm listening."
"...Diluc," You begin nervously. "Diluc, I..."
...love you. I've loved you for years and years now, actually. I've loved you for so long that I've lost count of how many times you've made my heart flutter and made it ache, how many times you've made me laugh and made me cry.
You were the reason I worked hard to get to where I am because I wanted nothing more than your wish for a grand buffet to celebrate my lieutenancy to come true. You were the reason I never gave up on becoming a knight even if training and my actual duties got tough because your passion and your enthusiasm inspired me to keep going.
You're my best friend, and you always have been. Even when we drifted apart, I still thought of you as my closest friend. Friend, best friend, or something more, I've always loved you dearly. I'm sorry that this had to be the one thing I could not trust to tell you about, but here I am, telling you the one secret I never dared to tell you until now.
I'm in love with you, Diluc Ragnvindr. Please, we still have time. You can change out of that suit. You can tell the carriage waiting outside that you won't be headed towards the Cathedral. We can make this work. We still have time.
Diluc.
Diluc, I—
“Hello?”
You blinked, snapping out of your daze. Diluc was now looking directly at you, confused and slightly concerned. “Were you... going to say something?”
Oh.
None of what you thought you had said had even made it past your mind. It was only then, as well, that you realized something crucial. Something critical, something significant.
And it was the fact that you had realized the true extent of how utterly selfish you had been all these years, culminating in you confessing your feelings to Diluc on his own wedding day. Your petty, jealous foolishness had finally taken hold of you and blinded you, exactly as you’d feared. You had nearly hurt yourself.
And that meant that you had nearly hurt Diluc.
"Oh, I... just wanted to congratulate you. For your wedding. For her. You're my best friend, and I'm... I'm just so glad to finally see you be happy," You tell him, tears brimming your eyes. "It's just like what I wished for all those years ago when we saw that shooting star. I... I wish you all the happiness in the world, Diluc. I mean it."
The look of gentle surprise on his face melts into a soft smile of gratitude, but instead of making your heart flutter, it makes your heart clench instead.
"That... was your wish?"
"It was," You hope Diluc doesn't notice the way you're frantically trying to blink back your tears. "And it still is. You're my best friend, Diluc. I love you. I always will."
You give him no time to respond, making quick work of the tears falling from your eyes and forcing a wide grin on your face. "Now, let's get going, shall we? I won't bother you anymore by crying here, I'll do it later—now come on, I won’t let you be late to your own wedding!"
"...Yes," Diluc says as you head towards the door. With your back turned, you fail to notice the look he gives you—one last twinkle in his eyes that, for once, lingered more than a moment. "I suppose we should."
When the ceremony is all said and done, and Diluc and his newlywed wife walk down the aisle with bright smiles and love in their eyes, you pretend the tears you cry are tears of joy.
"Lieutenant."
No matter how formidable Jean truly was as the new official Grand Master of the Knights of Favonius, you could never take her seriously even when she addressed you formally. Still, you cleared your throat to look up from your paperwork. "Ah. Good day to you, Grand Master."
"Good day to you as well, lieutenant. I have come here to discuss some important matters with you."
"Go on."
"Well..." Jean began, tapping at her chin thoughtfully. "I have come here to offer you a new post."
"Oh?" You quirked a brow.
"As per the treaty signed by Il Dottore, the Harbinger assigned to Mondstadt, the Fatui have agreed to allow the Knights of Favonius to establish a diplomatic embassy within its lands. Thus, I have come to offer you a position in said embassy, seeing as you have proven yourself capable of handling the affairs of the knights both locally and internationally."
"So you're basically saying that you're banishing me to Snezhnaya?" You grip, chuckling as Jean immediately tries to backtrack, waving her off before she can go on an explanatory and apologetic tirade. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding, I'm honoured you've offered me this position, Grand Master."
Jean holds herself back from lightheartedly rolling her eyes at you, steeling herself to continue explaining the conditions of this aforementioned new post.
It would entail a four-year residence in Snezhnaya, with all your accommodation and expenses to be handled both by the knights and by the Fatui. Though you were allowed to return to Mondstadt for holidays and vacations, you were obviously going to spend the majority of your time in Snezhnaya—away from your friends, away from your family, away from your fellow knights, away from...
"I'll take it."
"If you have any more questions or concerns you would like to inform me of, you are free to—pardon?"
"I'll take it," You tell Jean. "I'll take the post. I'll stay in Snezhnaya."
The Grand Master immediately nods. "I'll start making the arrangements. At the earliest, expect to be departing for Snezhnaya in about two months' time. You may inform others about your new position, but only after everything has been arranged and confirmed."
"I understand."
"Well then, I suppose we can leave the conversation here. Have a good day, lieutenant."
"Have a good day as well, Grand Master."
Something... was missing.
Diluc couldn’t quite remember what it was, though something told him it was more of a who than a what—but regardless, something just felt amiss in the air. And the feeling only grew ever stronger the moment Adelinde had come to his study with a letter in hand, claiming it was for him.
To Diluc, the envelope simply read. It took him a moment to remember just where he had seen this handwriting from, but the moment it clicked in his head, everything else seemed to click as well.
You. Your handwriting. And the fact that he hadn’t seen you in at least a month, if not longer.
He promptly wasted no time in opening the envelope, reaching for the letter within.
Diluc, the letter began. By the time you receive this letter, I will be long gone. You need not worry about me, as I am fine, and you may ask the other knights about my whereabouts, but there is a reason I have chosen to write you this letter instead of working up the courage to face you myself.
Diluc read the rest of the letter with wide eyes. You had written the letter with the utmost sincerity, every word imbued with so much meaning and intent—almost as if it were the last letter you would ever write to him. In it, you had finally, finally professed your love to him, to the man who believed in you, supported you, and gave you a reason to keep going.
Folding the letter closed, Diluc placed it back into its envelope and onto his desk, his gaze lingering upon it momentarily. Then, he immediately began burying himself in his paperwork, even as tears—tears he didn’t think he even had in him to cry—began to roll down his cheeks.