You roll your eyes at his comment, gently kicking against his thigh. Kaeya laughs, grinning at you.

“What? I’m not lying.”

“You are such an egotist,” you huff. You grip onto the blanket, preparing to pull it off of him as punishment, but he stops you from doing so. His hand finds your ankle though the soft fabric of the blanket, and he holds you tightly, stopping you, or the blanket, from going anywhere.

“I like to think I’m simply confident,” he says, holding your gaze. His cerulean eyes are unwavering, and he gives your ankle a squeeze. Your cheeks warm in response to the action, as you realize that this is the first time you and Kaeya have been so close.

It doesn’t feel strange, and you don’t dislike it either, but…you’re certainly caught off guard.

“Would you run if I approached, Y/N?”

He grins, expectant of your response. He’s trying to tease you, you realize, and you refuse to let him get away with it so easily.

“Maybe if I didn’t know you, I’d stay,” you say, tugging your foot from his grasp with a pleased smile. His hand had gone slack at your comment—your words taking a second to fully soak into his brain. A sound of disbelief bubbles from his throat.

“Wait, so you’re saying you’d run because you know me?”

The shit eating grin you attempt to hide behind the blanket is telling enough. He grabs the pillow beside him and tosses it at you. It smacks you between the eyes before tumbling over your head, and the sound of distress you make causes him to laugh.

“You’re such a little brat.”

Chapter 7: Fight and Flight

“You can’t blame me for everything, Diluc. I didn’t kill Crepus. I made bad decisions, I acted in ways that I shouldn’t have, because I was lost, and confused, and trying to deny the reality I lived in, but…I’m not the catalyst to all your problems. Just because we fought doesn’t give you the right to make me a scapegoat for the rest of our li—”

“Is this your attempt at an apology?” Diluc interrupts him, voice carefully measured. His hand drops from Kaeya’s shirt, his gaze mindlessly boring into the space between them as his fist clenches at his side.

“If so, it’s shit.”

He’s nearly shaking—struggling to contain the barrage of emotions that assault him.

“Listen, I’m sorry,” Kaeya says, sincere, but the words only make Diluc’s chest sting.

In the past, Diluc had imagined that when Kaeya finally said those words to him—if he ever did—he’d finally feel peace. He’d attain closure. He would stop feeling hate, and sorrow at any thought of his father.

But the words don’t heal his wound.

Because Kaeya isn’t the cause of his suffering.

He’s known this for a while, now, but the reality of it is a pill that he can’t swallow. After all, if the blame doesn’t lie on Kaeya, then that means their severed ties are Diluc’s fault. If he hadn’t acted so rashly after their fight in the manor—if he had listened to Adeline—had actually allowed himself to properly grieve, to sit back and breathe, and process everything—it’s very likely that they would still be friends.

In the end, it’s Diluc who chose not to return to school. It’s Diluc who deleted Kaeya’s number from his contacts, and forbade the house staff from inviting Kaeya to Crepus’ funeral. It’s Diluc who stands here now, refusing to look at Kaeya because he knows he’s spent years directing his spite at the other, spinning his everlasting grief into anger that is, undoubtedly, directed at the wrong person.

There’s no one to blame for the death of his father. (Whichever god made it downpour that fateful day, perhaps—sending Crepus’ car skidding, and flipping across wet pavement until the car frame crumpled, and pinned his father inside.)

But there is someone to blame for the situation the two of them find themselves in now, and it’s Diluc.

Finally, Diluc forces the pill down his own throat.

Instantly, the anger inside of him is extinguished—replaced with a guilt so heavy that he feels like he may puke.

“—the timing was fucked, we shouldn’t have fought but—,” Kaeya grabs him by his shirt, and Diluc realizes that Kaeya has been talking this whole time. He hasn’t heard a word of it.

“—you can’t keep—,” it’s then that Diluc finally looks up at Kaeya, and immediately, Kaeya’s words die on his tongue. Diluc has never looked so broken—unshed tears resting on his lower lashes, his throat tight, and chest shaking beneath Kaeya’s grasp as he struggles to breathe.

He’s panicking under the weight of his sins—his hard exterior torn away—and Kaeya can see it all.

Chapter 9: Final Hurdle

You’d been so caught up with studying this afternoon that you’d forgotten to buy a proper lunch on campus—instead snacking on granola bar from a vending machine just before your afternoon final. And considering you’d been too concerned with cramming in more studying when you’d arrived home, it’d completely slipped your mind to eat dinner…

 It’s no wonder you feel like shit.

Pulling your door open, you fumble your way into the dark kitchen—too tired to even attempt finding the light switch on the wall. Right now, your only concern is getting some more water and some food, and you’re pretty sure you can manage such a small feat without any light.

…at least, on a normal day you could. Tonight, however, you’re feeling pretty out of it, so when you take one step too close to the sink—your knee knocking into the cupboard beneath the basin—your legs immediately give out beneath you.

Instinctively, you grapple for the counter. One of your hands manages to get a grip, but your strength fails you, and you go falling to your knees. The weight of your body hitting the floor successfully rattles the empty beer bottles Kaeya has lined up near the fridge, and one of them tips over—rolling off the counter.

It hits the ground with a loud clatter, but thankfully doesn’t splinter into a million pieces.

…unlike your sanity.

Tired, and hungry, and frustrated with yourself, you simply lean your head forward, your forehead knocking against the cupboard as you sit there, trying to piece yourself back together. Your head goes blank for a second—your sleep-riddled mind begging you to just get some rest already—and unconsciously, you pick up on the creak of a door opening nearby.

“Y/N?”

It takes you a moment to register the sound of Diluc’s voice, and the thud of his bare feet hurriedly padding across the wooden floor. A hand lands on your shoulder, and when warm fingers skim against your face—cupping your cheek, and turning your head to the side—you finally manage to open your eyes.

The amount of concern painted across Diluc’s face makes your heart crack, and finally, the stress that you’ve been attempting to play off overwhelms you.

Tears blot your eyes.

“What happened?” he asks, his gaze scanning over your crumpled form for a sign of any injuries. “Are you okay?”

“I’m just—,” your voice catches in your throat, fisted hand lifting to wipe at your cheeks as tears topple past your bottom lashes. “—I’m sick of finals. I wanna pass, but it feels like it’s hopeless, and I’m tired.”

Diluc frowns, his thumb swiping across your dampened skin.

“Hey, it’s okay—you’ll be fine.”

“But—”

“You’ve just been pushing yourself too hard,” he tells you, sitting himself on the floor beside you. He shifts his hand to cradle the back of your head, his other arm hugging around your waist, and in one smooth motion, you find yourself cradled against his chest.

Seeking comfort, you immediately wrap your arms around him, hiding your face against his collarbone. Your torso shakes as you try, and fail, to stop yourself from crying.

Chapter 13: Snow-Covered Memories

“I saw his portrait,” you quietly respond, motioning your head towards the frame on the wall. “It was the first time I’ve seen a picture of him, but I connected the dots since the resemblance is uncanny.”

Diluc breathes a laugh at that, stroking his fingers against his chin. 

“Should I grow a goatee?”

“You’d look handsome regardless,” you tell him without thinking, flashing him a smile. A small look of surprise flashes in Diluc’s eyes, but it passes quickly, and he thanks you while moving to set Crepus’ journal back in its appropriate spot on the desk.

“There were some notes about you and Kaeya in there. It’s clear he was fond of you both.”

“He’d probably be a little disappointed knowing what all happened between us after he died,” Diluc responds, sighing to himself. Immediately, you reach over and grab his hand. You give it a firm squeeze, catching his gaze.

“I think he’d be proud that you and Kaeya were able to talk and reconcile. I can’t imagine him being anything but proud of you, Diluc. He…I mean, he’s your father. He loved you, and always will. Unconditionally.”

Diluc is still, for a moment, words escaping him. Then, you feel a tug on your hand, and suddenly your face is against Diluc’s chest—his arms wrapping tightly around you. You can smell the earthy scent of his cologne, and when you adjust the angle of your head so your cheek is flush against his sweater instead of your nose, you swear you can hear the thumping of his heart.

Despite being caught off guard by his sudden show of affection, you immediately accept it—hugging him in return. You’re trying to figure out what silly comment you should say to abate your own nerves when Diluc finally speaks up.

“I love you,” he says.

Your heart leaps violently, and for a moment, you swear the earth stops spinning.

He…

Your fingers grip his sweater a little tighter, and you feel blood rushing to your face.

He’s never said that before. 

Why is he saying it now? What is he thinking? Has something changed? He’s typically not so affectionate, and he sounds so genuine. Does that mean that maybe he—

“I love you too,” you respond, your voice nearly a whisper. The words come out before you even realize that you’re speaking—a little part of your brain forcing them out of you, knowing that if you wait too long to say it back, it will make your words seem insincere. As if you’re only saying them back because he’d said them first. But god, that would be the farthest thing from the truth, because you adore him so wholly. Just being here, hugging him like this, feeling his warmth beneath your fingertips—makes you ache with affection.

Chapter 16: A Bard's Wisdom

“I can feel you staring, princess. Something on your mind?”

Ah, shit. 

You feel blood rush into your face. Right, you’ve been looking at him this whole time…

Taking a deep breath, you attempt to remain cool despite being caught. As much as you want to leave it be, you don’t think you’ll be satisfied if you do. You need Kaeya to clarify.

“Do you remember New Year’s Eve?” you ask, your eyes still following Kaeya as he moves over to snag a bag of chips from atop the fridge—finished PB&J sandwich in his grasp.

“Mhmm, how could I forget?”

Right, you’d had a breakdown…

“Well…I remembered that you offered to be a distraction for me, and—,” you feel a jolt of nervousness, but you push through it, “…I guess I was just wondering…what kind of distraction were you talking about?”

Kaeya doesn’t even hesitate with his answer.

“Whatever kind of distraction you want it to be.”

He’s not even looking at you as he says it—too busy frowning at his chip options. Not finding anything he wants, he huffs and grabs a can of soda from the fridge instead. 

Still standing in the same spot you’ve been since walking in, it takes your mind a second to catch up to what he’s said.

When it finally sinks in, you can’t help but scowl.

“That doesn’t really answer my question.”

“I believe it does,” Kaeya responds coolly. With his lunch finally put together, he moves to sit at the kitchen table. He’s just about to take a bite of his sandwich when you speak up again.

“No, it really doesn’t. A “distraction” could be taken in so many ways. I just want to make sure I’m not misinterpreting what you’re saying—”

“You wouldn’t be able to do that, because there's no chance to misinterpret the meaning when anything is on the table,” he cuts you off, his gaze finally finding yours. He looks calm—like an open book, with nothing to hide—and it catches you off guard, seeing him so serious for once. You suppose you’re grateful he’s not teasing you when you’ve gathered all your courage to ask him but…this side of him is a little off putting. Because if he says that, then that means…

“Anything…?”

Kaeya, who has somehow managed to eat a majority of his sandwich in the few seconds you’ve been quiet (how do guys eat so fast? ) takes his final few bites and swig of soda before answering.

“I offered to be a distraction, and I’m leaving it up to you to decide what kind of distraction you’d want me to be,” he says. Pushing up from his chair, he tosses his plate in the trash, and then steps closer to you. You almost want to run, when his eye catches yours once more. 

“But if you need me to spell it out, then yes—fucking could also count as a distraction.”

Chapter 17: The Distraction

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Let's just say the E rating starts from this chapter (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧₊˚⊹♡