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Inazuma was much quieter than Mondstadt. If Thoma remembered the place of his birth correctly, the revelrous moods after a day’s work could continue for hours well into the night, and into the early morning. He would wake in the middle of the night and find the city lights still glowing like a golden beacon, the scents of alcohol and sweat and celebration carrying to him, even from miles away.
In Inazuma when the sun went to rest, so did most of the citizens: a sleepy, bluish haze settling over the land the moment the moon rose. The chirping of crickets and rustle of animals in the brush replaced the hustle and bustle. Busy streets became ghost lands, the fields as still as paintings.
It would’ve been lonely, if Thoma hadn’t had Diluc.
He kept stealing glances at him as they walked, still trying to convince his brain that it was awake and not in fact in an extremely vivid dream. Diluc, so bright, so lively against the dozing Inazuma City around him: the colorful clash of past colliding with present.
“Kaeya, that imbecile, he told me it was a bad idea to come here,” Diluc said with a quiet huff. They climbed a set of steps, pausing before a terrace that overlooked the lower half of the city and the mountains beyond. “That it was unlikely you even remembered me.”
“That I—Diluc. How could I ever forget you?” Thoma said, looking at him, until the warmth in his eyes became too much to bear and he decided to study the way the moonlight caressed the cherry blossoms instead. “I thought of you all the time. When I was still in Mondstadt, and after I left. I always wanted to get back to you, somehow.”
“I should’ve tried harder,” Diluc said.
Thoma shook his head, brushing Diluc’s hand. “No, Diluc, it’s not—”
“I mean in Wolvendom that time, I should’ve protected you. And afterwards when your mother took you away, I could’ve found you, but I…”
Thoma started to speak again, but stopped himself; he could see the gears turning behind Diluc’s eyes, could sense the weight of the words he would say next.
“I’m afraid I may have lied a bit in my letter. I always had an inkling that something happened to you that night, but…a lot of things have happened between now and then, and I wasn’t sure until more recently,” Diluc said, idly adjusting one of the buttons on his jacket. “That’s why it took me so long to come find you, and I’m sorry.”
“I already told you. You have nothing to be sorry for, Diluc. We were kids.”
Diluc sighed. “There’s another like you, Thoma. Another werewolf.”
Admittedly, that had not been where Thoma had been expecting this conversation to go. His eyes flew wide as he hopped back from the terrace railing in pure shock. “You’re—are you sure?”
“Very,” Diluc answered. “He calls himself Razor. I was tracking some strange Abyss activity in Wolvendom when I found him. He was badly injured, so I assumed the wolves must have just gotten to him. I couldn’t just leave him there, so I brought him back to the winery, and then he—”
“Transformed,” Thoma said bitterly, his stomach twisting with the memory of the first time it happened to him. There was absolutely nothing more disorienting; even right after it happened, he hadn’t immediately understood what any of it meant. “Archons, Diluc. How old is he?”
“Sixteen, now. I found him two years ago, and I tried my best to look after him for a while, but he’s joined the wolves now. He believes that’s where he belongs, and I have no say in that.”
Joined the wolves. It had been one of his mother’s worst fears, that Thoma would decide the same. Sometimes he wondered just how different his life would be if he had.
Thoma left the terrace, needing to walk, to move around, to do something to expel the restless energy all of this was bringing upon him. He asked without turning, “So that’s how you figured it out?”
“Yes,” Diluc answered, joining him at his side as they continued further into the sleeping city, the moonlight and the soft glow of the paper lanterns hanging from shop windows their only guides. “I figured that what had happened to Razor had also happened to you, and that’s why you disappeared. Of course I had no way of knowing for sure. Not unless I came to see you myself. So I did.”
They reached a bridge, fallen cherry blossom petals crinkling beneath Thoma’s boots, the water babbling underneath them. He turned, facing Diluc squarely, watching his concerned face, the small furrow of skin that formed between his red brows. “And now that you’ve seen me, what will you do?” asked Thoma. He hated how pleading he sounded, but he couldn’t change it. “Once your ship sets sail for Mondstadt again, that’ll be it, won’t it?”
“Maybe, but we don’t have to worry about that now, Thoma,” Diluc said. “I know I can’t make up for all the lost time, but I just…I want to be with you while I can. Wouldn’t that be okay?”
He could sense himself wanting to run away again, the urge to flee stronger than the urge to chase. Of course it wouldn’t be okay. How could it possibly be okay, when Thoma had done nothing but dream of Diluc all this time? To have him, and give him away again—it was cruel. He didn’t know if his heart could stand it.
“That’s not what you want,” Thoma said. “Not really.”
Diluc stared at him for a moment, before he shook his head. “No.”
Thoma touched Diluc’s cheek, almost as though his hand moved without his mind’s command. “That’s been the problem this whole time, I think. Neither of us will just be honest with ourselves. So tell me, Diluc. What is it, really?”
Diluc closed his eyes, squeezing them shut, as if the only reason he could say them was because he wasn’t technically saying it to Thoma’s face. “I want you to come back to Mondstadt with me. I want you to meet Razor, so you know you’re not alone. And I want you to see that Mondstadt’s still been waiting for you, all this time. That I was waiting for you, too.”
“Diluc,” Thoma exhaled, as the other man took Thoma’s waist in his hands and brought him closer, like his body had no other choice but to be right next to his. “I could go, but you know I can’t stay. There are people here who depend on me, and I can’t just leave them.”
“I’m not asking you to,” Diluc said. “I know you’ll have to return eventually, but when the time comes I know we’ll both be ready. Until then, just spend a little time, Thoma. Come home. Rest. Be with me.”
Water tumbled crystalline over the rocks, owls hooting in the trees, but for once the onslaught of sounds was silent, and Thoma was here, entirely here and nowhere else. His heart thudded the way it used to when he was about to go exploring back in Mondstadt, as it had before he’d laughed and waved at Diluc over his shoulder and crashed into Wolvendom’s open maw.
Diluc rested his forehead against Thoma’s, so all Thoma could see were the crimson depths of his eyes. “Thoma?”
Come home.
When Diluc held him like this, it almost felt like he was already there.
“Okay,” Thoma said. “I’ll come with you.”
------
Most of the time Thoma was in Ritou he was greeting ships or seeing them off, so it was strange to be the one saying goodbye this time.
“You’re sure you’ll be okay without me?” Thoma asked. “I know you have that giant Commission meeting next week and I was still in the middle of making all the preparations for it like the menu and the invitations and—”
“Thoma, I’ve told you a million times and I’m sure Ayaka’s told you more,” Ayato said, picking up Thoma’s bag from where it rested on the dock between their feet. He slammed it into Thoma’s chest, making him cough. “We’ll be able to manage for a few weeks, I promise you.”
“You’re sure, though,” Thoma insisted. “Like, I’m not going to come back and find you’ve burned down the estate trying to make ramen again, right?”
Ayato’s mouth fell open in betrayal, until he forced himself to be civil again, clearing his throat. “That was one instance. And I didn’t burn down the estate. Just that one very nonessential part of the kitchen.”
“We lost a lot of kitchen towels,” Ayaka added as she shouldered up to her brother. Her cheeks were rosy in the early morning light, almost the same hue as the pink sunrise behind them. “They were new ones, too. Thoma had just bought them.”
Thoma narrowed his eyes at Ayato. “Not for a bargain price, either.”
“I get it, I get it,” Ayato groaned. “I will stay very far away from the kitchen. Now would you go, already? Your cute Mondstadt boyfriend’s waiting for you.”
Thoma’s face burned, and he fought the mounting urge to bury it in his hands. “He’s not my boyfriend. He’s just—Diluc’s—”
“Thoma!”
Thoma whirled. The voice was Diluc’s, calling to him from the ship’s deck. He waved a hand, bright red ponytail flying behind him like a flag. He was calling for him, waving to him. Thoma’s heart pinched.
When Thoma turned back around, Ayaka was beaming. “He’s totally your boyfriend.”
“Keep your voice down!” Thoma said. He shifted his grip on his bag, backing up a little. “I guess I should get a move on, then. Tell Itto and Yoimiya and everyone I’ll see them later?”
“Of course,” Ayaka said, “but isn’t there someone else who needs a proper goodbye?”
Thoma wasn’t sure who she meant until he heard Taroumaru’s exuberant bark, followed by the brisk patter of his paws against the wooden dock. Thoma crouched, catching the dog just as he leapt at Thoma and began to lick his cheek.
“Alright, alright, buddy,” Thoma said, laughing as he set Taroumaru down and patted him right between his ears. “I’ll be back before you know it, I promise. We’re family, in, well, more ways than one. So do me a favor and make sure you look after everyone while I’m gone, okay?”
Taroumaru somehow managed to bark in a way that sounded like a salute, and pleased, Thoma got to his feet again. The boat’s horn split the otherwise quiet morning.
“That’s my cue,” Thoma said, half-turning towards the ship.
“Be careful, Thoma,” Ayato said. “We’ll see you when you get back.”
------
He’d thought he was ready, but he supposed there was no way to aptly prepare yourself to travel back in time.
At least, that’s certainly what it felt like. The moment he and Diluc stepped through Mondstadt’s gates, he was ten years old again: playing with his friends, darting in and out of the merchant stands and up and down the stone staircases until he was out of breath. Everything was just as he remembered it, if not better. The fountain glistened pure and beautiful in the city’s center, the scents wafting from Good Hunter making his stomach rumble in anticipation. Diluc took him up to the Cathedral—passing the Knights of Favonius headquarters without a word—where they admired the gardens and the towering statue of Barbatos they used to dare each other to climb. Thoma was surprised to find there were Mondstadters who still recognized him, the owners of shops he and his mother used to frequent, stopping to stare at him for a moment before they asked, “And where have you been all this time, young man?”
It was late afternoon, passing into early evening when Diluc turned to him and asked, “Shall we go down to Angel’s Share?”
Thoma just looked at him, dumbfounded. “To what?”
Diluc laughed. The noise was a gem, dynamic and beautiful and even more so for its scarcity. “Dawn Winery’s tavern. Maybe it’s…stupid, but it’s always been a dream of mine, that one day I would be there and you’d come inside and ask for a drink, like you’d been here your whole life.”
The words startled Thoma with their frankness. His response was awkwardly delayed. “Yes, I’d love to go. Take me there.”
As Diluc began to lead the way, Thoma’s attention danced elsewhere, just for a moment. It was the flash of familiar golden hair that caught him at first, then the way the woman walked, like she was always in a hurry, just seconds away from bursting into a sprint. It couldn’t be her. She only ever came into the city early in the morning, when the crowds were thinner. It couldn’t be his mother, and yet—
“Thoma?” Diluc said over his shoulder, and when Thoma looked up and met his eyes Diluc swiveled, planting his hands on his shoulders. “Thoma. Talk to me. Are you okay?”
He couldn’t speak to her. Not yet. He wasn’t ready to face her; just gathering the courage to leave Inazuma had shaken him, and he was afraid that at this, he would crumble.
A knot coiled tight in Thoma’s stomach.
Before he could warn him, Diluc’s face went tense with recognition. He hooked an arm around Thoma’s shoulder, beginning to drag him forward. “What triggered this?”
“I thought I saw her. My mother. I can’t talk to her, Diluc. She can’t know I’m here.”
“And she won’t,” Diluc said. He was focused now, his brows knitted. “Keep talking. Can you walk this back somehow?”
The ache was already unfurling itself from the very base of his spine. Any second now, it would begin to spread until it was in every one of his muscles, making them spasm and twitch out of his control. Thoma shook his head. “I-I can’t. I’m so sorry, Diluc.”
“Don’t be,” Diluc said, and paused, just long enough to hold Thoma’s face, forcing him to look at him. “Don’t be. Hey, shh. You’re fine. What do you need right now? Somewhere private, indoors? Or space outside to run around?”
Fire was spreading through Thoma’s veins now; he wanted to stop, his legs beginning to cramp, but Diluc wouldn’t let him. Thoma was shocked by Diluc’s questions, as no one had ever asked him that before. He had to stop to think about it. He was wasting precious time.
“I don’t know,” he stammered. “I don’t know—just need to be somewhere, until it passes—I don’t know—”
“It’s okay. You’ll have time to figure it out later,” Diluc said. He was starting to move with more urgency now, taking a sharp turn and leading Thoma down a back alley. “There’s storage through the back door of Angel’s Share. I’ll take you there for now. Is that okay? Is that what you want?”
Thoma nodded. A muscle in his shoulder jerked. “Oh, that didn’t feel nice. We should…we should probably hurry.”
“We’re almost there. Just keep walking, Thoma.”
The storage area in Angel’s Share was thankfully vacant of people when Thoma and Diluc burst into it, Thoma hanging heavily on Diluc’s shoulder, and collapsing to the floor the moment he made it inside. Diluc turned, swiftly slamming the door and clicking it locked.
The change began to unfurl itself rapidly then, as if the fact he was standing all this time had been the deterrent.
Thoma rolled onto his side, using the last of his voice to say: “Thank you, Diluc. It’s okay. You can go.”
“As if I’d leave you?” Diluc said. He reached over, carefully removing Thoma’s dog tags from around his neck. “I’ll be here. I’ll be right here when you get back.”
Thoma grunted as the transformation swept over him, and it was jarring, his final image through human eyes not being a shut door or the silhouette of someone’s back.
It was strange, not to feel so afraid for once.
------
“Thoma?”
Thoma groaned, still not entirely awake. He slowly peeled his eyes open, meeting Diluc’s attentive gaze.
“There you are,” Diluc said, voice soft, so soft Thoma almost didn’t recognize it. “Welcome back. You were a wolf for about three hours. How are you feeling?”
“Everything hurts,” Thoma admitted, sitting up. Only then did he realize a blanket draped his lower half, Diluc’s heavy jacket tossed over his shoulders. Hugging the jacket tighter, he added, “And I’m starving.”
“I can at least help with that second part,” Diluc said. He started to stand, but Thoma reached out, catching his wrist before he could.
Diluc said nothing, just turned, raising a careful eyebrow at him.
“You said you weren’t leaving me,” Thoma whispered, forcing the words out before he could process them. Everything still felt so twitchy and strange; he was afraid what would happen if he was left to deal with it alone. He was tired, he realized, of dealing with it alone. “So don’t leave. Not yet.”
“Thoma,” Diluc exhaled, and he did as Thoma requested, sitting down again.
“I know this isn’t how you imagined me walking into your tavern for the first time,” Thoma murmured. His hand tiptoed up from Diluc’s wrist, until their fingers interlaced. “I didn’t mean to ruin that for you.”
“You didn’t ruin anything,” Diluc said. “You’re here, aren’t you? That’s all I ever really wanted.”
A strange look passed Diluc’s face then, so warm and obviously passionate and so unlike the Diluc he knew. It seemed to take both of them off guard when Diluc brought himself closer. He pushed Thoma’s hair, now loose and messy, out of his way, cupping Thoma’s cheek.
“Sometimes I’m not positive I’m not dreaming,” he said, leaning closer and closer still, practically speaking the words into Thoma’s mouth. “But you’re really here, aren’t you?”
When Thoma breathed, it stirred the hairs by Diluc’s face. “Come and find out for yourself.”
Diluc brought his lips at last to Thoma’s, gently at first, though the feeling took like flame to a match and soon he was holding him fiercely, drinking from his mouth like it were kerosene. Diluc’s jacket slipped off, but Thoma let it go, guiding Diluc’s hands to his bare shoulder, his chest, wanting to feel his hands on him. Thoma opened his mouth, half-whispered Diluc’s name, half-breathed it. Diluc’s tongue delivered his answer.
Diluc broke away before Thoma was ready to let him go. His face was adorably flushed, hairline speckled with beads of sweat. “We should—I—it’s—” He cleared his throat. “It’ll be dark soon. I should get you something to eat, and then we should hurry, to try and catch Razor.”
“To catch him?” Thoma said, still trying to regulate his breath.
“He only comes out of the forest once it’s dark, so the humans won’t see him,” Diluc replied, tugging his jacket back over Thoma’s shoulders. “But even then it’s hit-or-miss if he’ll even respond to my call.”
“He’ll respond,” Thoma said, and Diluc looked at him, his eyes slightly round. “He knows you, doesn’t he? He knows this is important to you. He’ll come back.”
Diluc nodded to himself, taking in Thoma’s words. He leaned over, brushing his lips against Thoma’s forehead. “Like you did,” he said. “Thank you.”
------
When their bellies were full with sticky honey roasts and moon pies, they ventured far away from the city, to the edges of Wolvendom.
Thoma’s heart was thundering in his ribcage the closer and closer they crept to the tree line, the trees all eldritch, amorphous shadows. He remembered it all like it had happened yesterday: the stupid dare he shouldn’t have taken, the burrs scratching his ankles as he ran, staring up at a callous moon as the wolves sank their teeth and claws into his skin. And Diluc’s scream. He would never forget Diluc’s scream.
As if Diluc could sense the violent images flickering through Thoma’s brain at the moment, he laid a hand on Thoma’s lower back. “You don’t need to go any closer. Wait here.”
So Thoma watched Diluc step forward, his dark clothes nearly making him one with the night, and bring himself to a crouch a few feet away from Wolvendom’s edge. He unfolded his handkerchief from his pocket, setting it in the grass in front of him, and began to call Razor’s name.
For a while, it was still save for the sound of the night breeze rustling through the grass and the leaves, the ceaseless back-and-forth duets of the loons and owls. Thoma kept glancing from the trees to Diluc, worrying he was getting discouraged, wishing he could will himself to move forward, to comfort him.
Then, the underbrush parted, and a wolf as silver as the moonlight itself appeared out of the darkness.
Diluc let out a sigh of relief. “Razor. You heard me. I knew you would.”
Razor stepped forward enough until he was out of the forest, but he didn’t move from his spot just beyond its border. His nostrils twitched, his red eyes fixed warily on Thoma.
“It’s me,” Thoma said. “He probably smells wolf on me, but I’m a human at the moment. He’s confused; that’s why he won’t come closer.”
Diluc nodded at Thoma’s explanation. He tried again: “He’s a friend of mine. He is—how would you say it?—Lupical. You can trust him, Razor. You’ll want to talk to him. Can we talk, just for a minute?”
Razor’s eyes lingered on Thoma’s for a moment longer before they switched back to Diluc. With his ears slightly pulled back, he finally began to make his approach, leaving the trees behind.
Thoma watched, half in a daze, as Razor met Diluc where he knelt. The wolf whined and buried his head into Diluc’s chest, nibbling affectionately at his clothes. “Razor,” Diluc said gently. “I meant talk as a person, buddy.”
The wolf barked insolently at this proposition.
“Razor,” Diluc said again, with an exhaustion that was strangely paternal. “Be polite.”
The wolf whined again, but this time because he was beginning to shudder and change shape. Diluc stepped back to give him space. The wolf shivered and curled on his side, whimpering, and then he was a boy.
He was a boy who certainly looked as wild as he was, however, his silver hair falling long and unkempt down his back, his face and body decorated with scars, both new and old. Slowly, he sat up, and Thoma found something strange about his eyes, too: as though the consciousness behind them were not entirely human, even if the boy’s body was.
Razor didn’t protest as Diluc tied the cloak he’d brought to dress him in around his shoulders. “Diluc,” Razor began, his voice unsteady. “I’m happy to see you…you were gone so long. But…you bring stranger. I do not trust.”
“Thoma isn’t a stranger,” Diluc said. He pulled a canister he’d filled with hot tea before they left Angel’s Share, uncapped it, and poured some into the lid for Razor. “I’ve known him a long time, and he is very dear to me. I’ve told you about him before, remember?”
Razor accepted the tea, sniffing the steam as it rose into his face. “Diluc’s friend. From a long time ago, you miss him everyday. This is Thoma?”
Diluc nodded, looking at Thoma over his shoulder. Thoma knew he was being awkward, that he should say something, at least, but he was too shocked by it all, that there really could be someone else like him, that there was an entirely different life he’d said no to. Was it regret or relief that he felt? He wasn’t sure.
“Thoma. Smells…wolf. But isn’t. Why?”
“I am a wolf, just not right now,” Thoma admitted, and Razor’s perplexed frown lingered a bit longer until clarity briskly overtook it. “I’m like you, Razor. I was human, but the wolves in Wolvendom scratched me when I was younger, and now I’m not. At least not one hundred percent.”
Razor’s eyes gleamed with sudden familiarity. “You are Lupical.”
Diluc sighed. “That’s what I was trying to tell you, kid.”
“Diluc says many things,” Razor said, turning a brief glare to his caretaker. “Not always right.”
“Hey. They are a majority of the time, mind you.”
Razor stood, warily, like he had to remember how to do so on two feet rather than four. He reached out, taking Thoma’s hand in both of his. “Thoma has come here to stay. Yes! To come and run and hunt with rest of Lupical?”
Diluc hadn’t moved, but regardless Thoma could sense his eyes on the two of them, could hear the anxious anticipation in his silence. I have no say in that— that’s what he had said about Razor’s choice. But Thoma wasn’t stupid. He’d heard the hurt in Diluc’s voice anyway.
Thoma looked at the dark tangle of the forest ahead. He could imagine himself racing through it, the wind in his fur, leaping over creeks and fallen branches, joining in the thrill of the hunt. But he couldn’t imagine himself staying. Not when it meant leaving so many others behind.
The leaves in the forest’s dense underbrush moved slightly, and Thoma sensed the wolves’ presence, even before their glowing eyes peeked out of the darkness, watching them.
Thoma swallowed around the knot in his throat. “I’m sorry, Razor. I can’t stay. I have to look after my friends, in a place very far from here. And I have to look after Diluc.”
He expected Razor’s expression to fall, was dreading the disappointment he knew would cross the young boy’s face. Yet Razor just nodded his head, squeezing Thoma’s hand. “I understand. Thoma has own Lupical. Different from mine, but…same. In a way.”
“Yeah,” Thoma agreed, with a soft smile. He was thinking of the Kamisatos, waving at him from the dock back in Ritou, and everyone else that had crashed into his bedroom that night, so utterly unafraid. He couldn’t think of how to repay their kindness, so he hoped staying by their side would at least be a starting point. “Yeah. That’s exactly it.”
“You come back,” Razor said. Thoma was unsure if it was a request or a command. “You come back soon, and I teach you to hunt. You teach me…how to…connect. With humans? Not very good at it, unless it is Diluc, or other boy with bad luck.”
“Of course,” Thoma said. A frigid breeze blew by then, rustling the foliage again. Behind Razor, the wolves turned and disappeared into the deep. “That sounds very nice.”
Razor nodded like this pleased him. He added, “For now, you take care of Diluc. He is very strong, took good care of me. But I worry…he is lonely, and I’m not there anymore. So you be nice to him. Promise?”
Over Razor’s head, Thoma met Diluc’s eyes. The love in them was so beautifully complicated, Thoma had to look away again.
“I promise, Razor,” Thoma said. “Thank you for coming out to meet me.”
Razor shrugged. “Diluc’s friend. My friend too. Very important.”
It seemed he had said all that he needed to say. He squeezed Thoma’s hand once more before he returned to Diluc. “Much talking. Tired now. I’ll go back.”
Razor lowered himself to the ground again, already preparing for the shift, but not before Diluc leaned over and ruffled his hair. Tugging the cloak loose from Razor’s scarred shoulders, he said, “Okay. You have fun. Anything else you want me to do for you?”
Razor considered it. “Tell Bennett…be more careful. Almost got stuck in boar trap last time. Very dangerous for him.”
Diluc let out a quiet chuckle at this. “That does sound like Bennett. I’ll let him know.”
Razor said nothing more after that. He coughed, ducking his head between his knees. His shoulders shook and when he unrolled himself again he was a wolf, a silver dart sprinting for the cover of the trees.
Diluc and Thoma stood side by side and watched him go.
Thoma said, “He seems like a nice kid.” What he didn’t say was that there was a strange part of him that felt sorry for him, that wondered what in the world humans had done to him—or not done for him—that had made him seize the chance to leave humanity behind with such fervor.
Thoma was so lost in his wonderings he almost didn’t notice Diluc hadn’t answered him, that even as Thoma had turned to face the city again, Diluc remained where he was, eyes fixed on the dense forest ahead of him.
“Diluc?” Thoma asked.
He blinked a few times, and was himself again. “Right. Let’s head back to the winery. It’s going to get freezing out here soon, and unlike you two, I don’t have any fur.”
------
By the time they reached the winery, they were, in fact, freezing, Thoma’s fingers beginning to ache with the cold, his ears and nose flushed pink. The moment they stepped beyond the winery’s towering wooden doors—Thoma had to stop, to admire the sheer luxury of it all, its ornate wooden banisters and imported rugs and chandeliers that glittered gold—Diluc guided him to the fireplace, already crackling with life.
The maids brought them warm drinks and home-baked cookies and heavy blankets, and Thoma tried to refuse, until Diluc looked at him sternly and insisted he accept, so he did.
“Are you warm?” Diluc asked once the maids had let them be, though one of them, a kind woman named Adelinde, had badly hidden an excited smile behind her hands as she left the room.
Thoma said, “Yes. But I’d be warmer if I were closer to you.”
Diluc rolled his eyes. He slid from his cushioned seat to the floor right in front of the hearth, and before Thoma could ask what he was doing, he turned, offering Thoma his hand. “Here. Care to join me?”
He did. Diluc held his blanket up so Thoma could snuggle underneath it, cuddling in close to Diluc’s body, taking in his warmth and the warmth of the fire in front of them. He was drowsy suddenly, the sort of drowsiness that came from being truly comfortable, truly at home.
“It’s strange,” Diluc started. “It feels like it was just yesterday that I brought Razor here, bleeding, unconscious—you can ask Adelinde; it was a mess. I was worried the whole time he’d die as I held him. And now he’s just—out there. Making his own way.”
“Do you wish he’d stayed?”
Thoma didn’t know why he’d expected him to hesitate. “Of course I do. But I understand why he didn’t.”
So many people had left Diluc, whether it was up to them or not. His father. Thoma. Razor. No wonder he had grown quiet over the years; no wonder it was so hard to make him laugh.
Thoma dropped his head on Diluc’s shoulder. He heard Diluc’s pulse quicken beneath his skin.
“It was an honor to meet him. Honestly,” Thoma said. “Thank you for bringing me home, Diluc.”
Diluc sighed, letting his head fall on top of Thoma’s, and it was all the response that he needed.