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Sunday was your favorite. It was as close to a day with no obligations as either of you could get.
You never rose first, Diluc was a man with many matters to attend to that called for his attention at all hours, but you found yourself stirring first today. Probably because of all of the sweat. There is not a more comforting feeling than being in Diluc’s arms, but he runs hot—and so do you. So despite your best wishes, you wiggle out of his embrace and roll to the other side of the bed for some cool air. There’s an obvious protest on his slumbering face, but he accepts defeat and curls his arms inwards. You feel worse about it than you probably should. But any regret you may have fades away into contentment as you admire the scene in front of you.
Diluc, always so strong and composed, is gently strewn across the bed, crimson hair cascading around the pillow next to him, creating a sort of fiery halo framing his beautiful face. His slight freckles and gentle laugh lines are illuminated by the light peeking into the room—small, intimate details only you get to see because of your constant close proximity to him. For a man who holds himself in such a stiff manner all the time, it is still special to see him in these delicate moments. You savor the silence, knowing that once he’s fully awake, the world will rush back in with its duties, expectations, and masks.
Admiring the tender scene in front of you, you ask yourself, how could you even resist? You gently sit back onto the bed, trying your best not to wake the still sleeping Diluc, but to no avail. Thankfully, he wasn’t in much of a mood to get up yet either, as he pulled you back into his embrace without even as much as opening his eyes. You could stay here forever, sweaty or not.
Maybe it’s time to invest in a fan—but that’s tomorrow’s problem.