adieu

You now paced back and forth in your kitchen. You had done an appraisal of your kitchen earlier and thought that you had everything a standard kitchen would have. Oil, salt, pepper.

A fresh batch of homemade sugar cookies sat on the counter. Earlier in the day you meticulously took hours to craft the dessert into chess pieces. You heard that Diluc liked chess and hoped that detail would place you more in his favor. Perhaps even warm his heart. Your cheeks flushed at the thought.

There was a knock at the front door.

You cleared your throat before swinging the door open. "Welcome—" Your breath caught in your throat at the sight before you.

Diluc stood on your front step with a white crisp dress shirt. A color you rarely saw on him. His rolled up sleeves revealed unexpectedly well defined forearms. One dark gloved hand held a wicker basket while the other hand unbuttoned his collar. He looked at you with a smile. "Y/N," he greeted. He could've winked and it wouldn't have looked out of place.

"Come in," you stepped aside and welcomed him into your humble abode. "Let me take that." You reached for the basket and set it on the counter. It was heavier than it appeared; its contents were hidden by a dark cloth that draped over the top of the basket.

You turned back to Diluc and smiled sheepishly at a memory of having one too many drinks at Dawn Winery. "I would give you a tour, but you've been here before."

"It was an honor to carry you home." Diluc teased. His gaze moved to the cookies on the counter. Curiosity and surprise danced across his features. "Did you make these?"

"Yes, I did. I made them into chess pieces because I heard you like chess."

"I do. Thank you. They look delectable. Perhaps we can play a game sometime."

"I actually don't know how to play."

"I can teach you if you'd like."

"That would be nice." You smiled at the thought of spending more time with him.

Your stomach growled. A bright flush appeared on your cheeks.

Diluc chuckled. "I'll get started on the dinner preparations now."

After some preparations and the sizzling of meat flooded your senses, you found yourself seated at the table with a hearty steak in front of you. You nearly drooled at the sight.

With a pop of the bottle, Diluc poured you some dandelion wine. He sat down across from you. "Eat up," he gestured.

You inserted your knife and fork into the meat. The knife cut through the meat without much effort. You ate a piece of it, savoring every bite as the flavors meshed together into a blend of deliciousness.

"Diluc," you said in between bites. "This is amazing."

"It's my specialty meat." He winked at you.

You took a large gulp of wine to hide your blush. How your mind wandered at his teasing words.

"Diluc," you hiccuped. "A charmer who can cook. Protector of Mondstadt. Wine daddy. I'm swooning."

"Hopefully you're not swooning too much from the wine," Diluc chuckled. He reached over to your wine glass and started to pull it away. "Perhaps you should take a break."

You feebly reached out to stop him and ended up flopping your hand on top of his hand instead. A warmth blossomed from the touch. "Did you know that I've always wanted to hold your hand?" You blurted out the confession before you fully processed what you just did.

A teasing smile danced on his lips. "I had a feeling." He rotated his hand so his open palm met yours. "But it's nice to know for certain."

One by one, you intertwined your fingers with Diluc's and clasped your hand around his. His hand felt a tad calloused, most likely from handling his massive sword, but holding his hand also imparted you with a feeling of comfort.

Diluc gently closed his hand around your own, giving you plenty of time to change your mind and pull away.

The fireplace crackled with a seemingly happy hum.

Then you realized it. Being with Diluc was like being with friends around a small campfire on a cool summer night. Warm and safe.

"Why don't you stay the night?" You smiled at him in the same way sunflowers turn toward the sun. Naturally.

You wobbled back and forth down the street in search of your friends. They were nowhere in sight. You sighed and figured that one of your drunk friends must have counted themselves twice during the headcount. 

“Excuse me,” you called out as you approached a food vendor. “Which way is it to the Special Fire Force Company building?” 

“I can take you there.” A voice behind you answered.

You turned to see a man with mismatched ruby eyes. As drunk as you were, you tried to suss him out to the best of your ability and recognized the Special Fire Force uniform trousers that he wore. You pointed to his pants and smiled to yourself. “I’d recognize those pants anywhere! I can walk with you, yeah.” 

He turned around and started to lead the way. 

You hummed to yourself as you walked alongside him. 

“You from out of town?” He asked as if he already knew the answer.

“Yeah, I came here at some point during a bar crawl with friends. It’s my friend’s birthday.” You explained. “But now I’m lost and hoping I could wait for my friends at the company building.” You pointed to his pants again. “How’s working with the company here? That must be cool.” 

A beat passed before he answered. “It’s okay. Sometimes more work than I want to do.”

“You should go drinking to relax sometimes.” You giggled. “That’s funnier coming from a drunk person.” 

“I go every now and then.” 

The gravel crunched as underneath your feet as the two of you walked on. A light breeze brushed against your face. 

“What do you like to drink?” You asked. 

His answer came with no hesitation. “Sake.” 

You laughed. “Sake is great.”

The rest of the walk continued in relative silence. You felt at ease with the man’s presence despite how he was almost a stranger. Almost because he seemed familiar and you couldn’t quite explain why. 

“We’re here.” The man announced as you reached a well lit building. He parted the curtains at the entryway and you followed suit.

“Welcome back, Waka.” A man greeted the one beside you before turning to you. “Aren’t you from Company 8?” 

At the mention of your company, the pieces slid together in your head. You were in Asakusa. This was Company 7. The man who just spoke to you was Lieutenant Konro. The man beside you was in charge of it all. 

You bowed deeply. “Captain Shinmon! I sincerely apologize for speaking so casually to you. I didn’t realize who you were.” Beads of sweat began to form on your forehead. You had only briefly met Company 7 once before tonight. 

“It’s alright.” Benimaru replied. “It’s been a while since someone didn’t know who I was.” 

You straightened yourself and felt relieved for a second. Just a second. “Please don’t mention this to Lieutenant Hinawa. He’ll string me up and use me as Infernal bait.” 

Konro raised an eyebrow. “Infernal bait?” 

You could picture it already. Strung upside down during the company meeting. Strung upside down during meal times. Strung upside down as a screeching, flaming Infernal ran toward you. 

“Relax.” Benimaru stated. “I won’t mention it to him.” He gestured to the lobby. “You can wait here for your friends.” 

You practically sobbed out a thank you. 

For about ten minutes you sat in the lobby of Company 7 and leaned against a wall that barely held up your remaining soul and dignity and contemplated the decisions made that night.  

“Látom,” you whispered to yourself, grateful that it didn’t get any worse than it already had. 

Your friends soon found you and apologized profusely. Before you had a chance to cast a lingering glimpse at Company 7, they whisked you out and shuttled you back to Company 8.

“We usually stick to the classic boba,” Dan replied. “I think I'm going to get Thai milk tea.”

“I'm feeling the classic milk tea.” Phil chimed in with a thoughtful expression.

You contemplated the menu once more. An internal nudge mentally pointed you to (your favorite tea). “I think I'll get the (your favorite tea) milk tea.”

A handful of time later, the three of you sat at a table with your drinks. Dan and Phil sat across from each other and you sat next to Phil.

You pursed your lips against the wide plastic straw and drew in a breath. Nothing rose from the cup. You tried again with a deeper draw of breath. Still nothing.

An amused smile danced on Dan’s lips while he watched you. “Suck harder on it.” He paused. “But maybe not too hard.”

You raised an eyebrow.

He continued on. “One time I sucked so hard that it shot up into my throat and I started choking.”

This caused you, in turn, to choke on your own drink.

Phil smacked your back while he cried out, “Dan! My little sister literally almost died from your innuendo.”