you kept going back to the memories that used to keep you warm. when laughter filled every room you entered. when he touched you like he was afraid you’d disappear. when mondstadt was your shared world, not the city he protected while forgetting the person he promised to come home to. you missed it so dearly; the puppy love you believed would last until wrinkles hugged your face.

ironic, isn’t it? to grieve a relationship that’s still technically alive. for what’s grief, if not loving something that no longer loves you back in the same way? if not waking up beside absence and learning how to carry silence like a second skin?

grief consumed you. constantly mourning something that no one, not even you, had the courage to bury.

later in the day, as the sky faded into a bruised indigo and as windows started to glow with faint light, you hear the front door unlock. not a knock, but rather the clicking of the knob mechanisms as it opened to allow him in. and there he was. you watched him as he stepped inside quietly, shoulders heavy with the day. he shrugged off his coat with practiced ease, hanging it on the rack without a glance. his fingers moved to loosen his gloves, then to unlace his boots. His movements were so routine. so mechanical.

“diluc.. you’re home early….” you mutter under your breath, yet despite the softness of your voice he still heard your pleas and efforts to converse.

“yeah, i finished my tasks pretty early…” he says nonchalantly, barely even sparing you a glance while he continued to unwind and undress himself

“do you still want this?”

you say abruptly. noticeably louder than the previous comment you made. a glimmer of hope. of change. tore itself into your heart. this was it; you finally had diluc to yourself. it was your time to unravel all the pent up emotions and the words you’ve choked down all these months in hopes of keeping the peace in the relationship. now, after waiting, you finally have the opportunity to let your hurt be recognized.

“want what?” he asked, not understanding the weight of the conversation you’re about to have. a snap to reality. that’s what it was.

“to keep being with me?”

“yeah. I’m just tired,” he stated. it felt so insincere, like it was something he said hundreds of times before. like his relationship wasn’t on the line. a mixture of emotions formed itself within you: anger, sadness, hopelessness, and that same lingering feeling of grief. yet in that moment, anger consumed you. his words differed from his actions; did he really want this or was he just saying that? if he did, why isn’t he worrying? why isn’t he scared? why has the fear of losing you escaped him? or has it left him long ago?

you could feel your chest tightening. yet your voice maintained it’s sternness. “you’re not even going to ask me why? do i just not matter as much to you now? does this relationship not matter as much? here we are, finally talking together yet you give me the whole 'oh i’m the savior of mondstadt, look at me i’m so stiff and strong act'?" you ask him, letting the anger get the best of you.

“i already told you [name], i’m tired. just as you said we’re finally together, so can you stop fucking making up problems for us?” he snapped back quickly, almost too quickly. his voice grew louder with every word.

“making up problems? that’s what this is to you? i’m asking you if you want to continue what we have and you’re giving me the most half-assed answers ever…” you pause. you just looked at him. is this truly the man whom i chose? the same man that promised to love me ‘til death do us part? you felt your eyes start to water as your stare at his dull and muted eyes. they were lifeless. loveless.

they lost their spark.

that realization cut deep. the realization that to him, this wasn’t worth fighting for. the love you shared, the whispered promises, the fevered kisses, the sacred way your souls once intertwined, they all still proved less worthy than mondstadt. than his duties. than the weight he chose to carry instead of you.

“i miss when one small doubt was enough for you to drop everything and remind me how much i meant to you, diluc. now i can barely get a full sentence out of you.” you hesitated. your voice cracking, yet the weight of your words still stood. you were simply begging to be seen, to be recognized. to be loved.

“and that was your reassurance. i’m tired, thats it! me having an 'attitude' doesn’t mean anything [name]. i’m exhausted from work, i don’t need you bitching about every little thing that i do now that i’m finally home.” he snaps back once again. his tone grows louder, angrier, and strained.

“It’s not what you do diluc, it’s what you don’t.” you raise your voice, hoping it’ll let you be heard.

“okay fine, what don’t i do then, [name]? i protect mondstadt, the people, and most importantly you. i help the favonius knights and manage a wine empire for fuck’s sake!” diluc inches closer to you, closing the gap between you and the man you once called your home. his words were sharp.

“stop pretending this is noble. you’re not protecting me. you’re just pushing me away so you don’t have to feel guilty. stop acting like you’re keeping me safe by disappearing and avoiding me.” your cheeks dampen by the few teardrops that slowly drip down your face. sniffling, you continue “why? why are you acting like we don’t matter? why are you acting like im not someone whos been with you through it all?”

diluc stiffens. the words land. deeper than he’ll ever admit.

his mouth opens then closes. his eyes flicker toward you, but he doesn’t meet your gaze. was he ashamed? a part of you wished he was. maybe that’d mean he cared – that he still felt remorse for the hurt he’s caused you. it’d mean that while it doesn’t feel like it, a part of diluc is still in the relationship. a part of him was still attached. a part of him still loved you. you wondered as you continued to look at him through the blur of your teary eyes.

"i’m doing this for mondstadt,” he says. it’s quiet, rehearsed. like he’s said it a hundred times before, but never once to you.

you scoff. “and where does that leave me?” you ask, stepping forward. “buried beneath your justice? beneath your duty? because that’s what it feels like. like i’m something you tend to after everything else. after the city, the winery.”

diluc stays silent, allowing your words to seep through every crack in his carefully built armor.

his gaze falters. not brave enough to meet yours, not steady enough to hold the weight of your hurt. he doesn’t look at you. not really. and maybe that’s what breaks you most of all: the man who once traced the outline of your soul with his eyes can’t even look you in the face now.

“loving you is killing me, diluc,” you say softly. almost like a whisper. your words trembling on your tongue like confession.

“i don’t recognize myself anymore. i’ve shrunk so small just trying to keep you. and you don’t even see it. do you? you don’t see how i’ve been fading. how i’ve whittled myself down to fragments – smaller and smaller – just to fit into the shrinking space you’ve left for me”

he looks like you slapped him. but still, he says nothing. just turns away. cowardice in the shape of silence.

your voice trembles, barely holding itself together. “say something. beg me to stay. lie to me if you have to.”

he hesitates, then whispers, more to the floor than to you, “i can’t ask you to stay in this.”

you nod once. slowly. and in your head, something closes for good. you asked for reassurance, and in a way, you got it. you wipe your face quietly.

“then don’t be surprised when you wake up and i’m not here.”

he swallows hard. jaw clenched, voice barely audible. “maybe i deserve that.”

your breath hitches. tears slipping down faster than you can wipe them away. but still, you try to breathe steady. to speak clearly. to hold onto whatever dignity you have left through the shattering. you wished you weren’t crying. you wished you were more stern. more angry. you wished you didn’t show him how vulnerable he makes you feel. how weak his distance makes you.

“you don’t get to make yourself the victim,” you say. “not when you’re the one who kept leaving.”

then you walk.

you left behind the wine-stained walls, the cold bed, the quiet that never comforted you. and behind you, he doesn’t chase. you left him behind. you left all the half-finished mugs of tea he never drank, the quiet laughs shared under flickering lantern light, and the way his hand used to find yours beneath the table without thinking. but more than anything, you left behind the version of yourself that kept begging to be chosen.

he stands there for a moment before sinking to the floor, head in his hands. the silence around him roars louder than your footsteps ever did.

and all the things he could have said. no, should have said. echo back at him.

auth’s note: aaa first fic!! i had so much fun writing this hehehe,, kinda based on a true story w/ an ex i had that gave me silent treatment when i was talking to him about stuff that bothered me & my insecurities ToT thankies for reading