vision • diluc

v

• third person •

"Are you crazy?"

"I'm not risking Mondstadt's safety."

"(Y/N)..."

(Y/N) rubbed her hands over face, her eyes narrow, her forehead creasing with a deep frown.

"Maybe you should get some rest before you make any rash decisions, (Y/N)," Jean suggested, pursing her lips.

Immediately, (Y/N) shook her head. "No, I need to go. Snezhnaya is my homeland: I can't cut it out of my life forever. Besides..." Her gaze fell, her fist clutching the bedsheets beneath her. "All of my old belongings are there."

Diluc gripped her hand. "Then I'm coming with you."

"But, Sir Diluc, you've been deemed persona non grata there–"

"I have my ways. I won't let (Y/N) go by herself."

(Y/N)'s eyes softened. She gave Diluc a small smile, before turning back towards Jean, a reassuringly stern look on her face.

"I'm going to sort this out once and for all."

•

A quiet yawn escaped Diluc's lips, watching as his wife began to rummage through their wardrobe.

"Love," he murmured.

"Master Jean heals pretty well; I feel almost as good as new!" (Y/N) exclaimed without a second thought. She picked up the delusion from the floor. "I should pack this."

"Are you going to give it back?" Diluc asked tiredly.

(Y/N) shrugged. "Yes, but... not like this."

Diluc plopped onto their bed, observing the gentle moonlight that was (Y/N)'s only source of light at the moment.

"I think it needs a good hammer or two. Maybe a bit of an electric shock." An ominous giggle echoed throughout the large bedroom.

Diluc hummed. Once again, he called her over. "Love, just get some rest now. The sun is going to rise at any moment."

(Y/N) glanced over towards her husband.

His hair was out and unruly, his jacket discarded somewhere in the room, and he was currently tugging off his tie with another yawn.

Her lips curved, endeared.

"I guess I'll sort it out tomorrow," she said softly. Diluc beamed as she finally began to approach him, falling right into his strong arms as he lay down comfortably, her figure fitting perfectly in his delicate hold.

(Y/N)'s eyes fluttered as his fingers brushed through her hair. His lips grazed gently upon her forehead, his spare hand running around her waist, tugging her in close.

"I love you," Diluc mumbled.

(Y/N) grinned. "I love you too."

Diluc hid his face within (Y/N)'s shoulder, his eyelids closing as he took in the delicacy of her scent. "You know, (Y/N)..." he murmured, "we never got to go on a honeymoon after our wedding... because of the upcoming events at the winery..."

A giggle escaped (Y/N). "You've already apologised so many times to me; don't worry about it-!"

"But listen," Diluc's grip on her tightened, "maybe... we could do something in Snezhnaya? It's your homeland, after all."