Diluc - Beneath the Mask

The tavern seemed unusually quiet at this time of night, all but the regular clinking of glasses and small talk. Only a few people remained, savoring the last of their drinks.

The candlelight flickered eerily as a slight gust of wind came through the door. Outside, the streets of Mondstadt were still as well, save for the occasional breeze that would rattle the tavern's sign.

You sat at the bar, boredly tracing the rim of the wine glass with your fingertip. The chilled wine had left a faint and insignificant stain at the bottom - deep red, like blood drying on stone. You barely noticed. Your thoughts were elsewhere.

Behind the bar, Dilus Ragnvindr slowly wiped down the counter, trying to keep everything neat and organized. His sleeves were rolled to his elbows, exposing faint scars that marred his forearms. Not that he cared much anymore. His gloves were absent tonight, so you watched the way his calloused fingers moved with smooth, practiced ease. Though, he seemed tense, for no apartment reason, it seemed.

He appeared slightly distracted; you could tell how he didn't meet your gaze, even though you were a regular.

"Another drink?" He asked finally, pretending to not notice you staring at him.

You glanced at your empty glass, and finally back at him. His expression was stoic, completely professional. It appeared almost practiced. A perfect mask.

"No," you murmured quietly, gently pushing the empty glass towards him. "Not tonight."

His hands stilled for a moment, before carefully taking the glass, and began washing it. His eyes briefly flicked towards you, before turning his attention back to the glass. He didn't say much, other than small comments to himself, often about the stains in the carefully cleaned wine glasses.

He didn't ask why.

For a while, the both of you were silent. The tavern's muffled sound was the only one between you. You should've left. The night was coming to an end, several patrons leaving. You only stayed because he was still here. After a while, you finally broke the silence.

"...You're quieter than usual." You said, absentmindedly tapping your fingernails on the counter.

Diluc glanced back at you, his eyes flickering as they reflected the candlelight.

"Just tired," he murmured, continuing to wipe down the counter.

You exhaled softly, propping your chin up with your hand, leaning on the counter. His movements were slow yet filled with purpose, though you could see a tension in his shoulders. Tired wasn't quite right. He seemed more worn-out.

"Liar." You said softly.

He stilled again, though only for a moment. When he turned to look at you again, he still seemed almost expressionless.

"Why did you say that?" He asked smoothly.

You leaned forward slightly, both of your elbows completely onto the counter. "Because you're always tired. You're only this quiet when something's wrong." You pointed out.

You could see his jaw clench slightly. He turned away, cleaning a glass that was already spotless. It was quite obvious that he was avoiding your gaze. On purpose.

You should've left when you had the chance. When there were still other people in the bar. Now, you had to stand by what you'd said.

But you didn't.

Giving into whatever dignity you still had left, you slipped your hand across the counter, and lightly rested your fingers over his own. He froze, setting the glass down. He glanced back at you again.

"Diluc," you began. "You don't have to pretend with me."

For several long seconds, he simply stared at your hand over his. He remained still, though didn't push you away.

"You're wasting your time." He muttered, his tone making his words seem hollow, almost. Your grip tightened slightly, your thumb gently caressing his knuckles.

"You keep saying that." You offered him a small, soft smile. "And yet you're still here."

His eyes flicked up sharply, looking at you directly. For a moment, you saw it - a faint crack in his mask. The weariness in his gaze. The shadows that clung to him no matter how much light surrounded him.

You exhaled softly. "I see you, you know."

His breath stilled.

You traced his knuckles, gently brushing against each of his scars. "Not just the tavern owner," you murmured. "Not just the wine tycoon. I see you."

His fingers twitched slightly against yours. His breathing seemed shallow, and his eyes were darker; closer to blood red than wine red. Unmasked.

"Why do you keep doing this?" He asked, his voice raw and almost vulnerable. "You shouldn't."

You shook your head slightly. "I could say the same to you."

Diluc smiled bitterly. His eyes shifted to where your hand lay, on top of his own. Slowly, his fingers shifted beneath yours, until his palm was flush against yours. His grip was hesitant at first, as he gently held your hand. For the first time this night, his hands weren't trembling.

"Your hands are freezing…" He murmured, using both of his hands to warm them up, even if it was just a little.

You quietly rose from your seat, leaning slightly over the counter. His eyes widened slightly. "I'm not afraid of you." You whispered, your voice barely audible. His chest rose sharply at your words, his eyes flickering faintly.

And then, with a slow, deliberate exhale, Diluc leaned forward, closing the distance between the two of you. His lips brushed against yours, making sure that you wouldn't flinch or pull away. He moved his hand from under yours to cradle your face, gently brushing through your hair. Diluc's fingers were warm against your skin, tilting you slightly towards him to deepen the kiss.

You barely noticed the candlelight dimming, the tavern falling in near silence. The only thing you were aware of was him - the heat of his mouth, the way his fingers threaded through your hair, and the faint, uneven hitch of his breath.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his eyes half-lidded and hardly open.

"...You shouldn't want this," he murmured, his voice rough. "You deserve better."

You reached up, brushing a strand of hair from his face, tucking it behind his ear. "You keep saying that like it'll make me leave." You said, looking into his eyes.

He smiled weakly. The tavern was empty now. Only the two of you remained, in the dim candlelight. It seemed as if you were the only warmth he needed.