Freedom in Servitude - Diluc x Reader

Jealousy

*BRRING BRRING*

The sound of Diluc's alarm clock going off caused him to slowly open his eyes and stare at the dark ceiling. He hadn't slept well. He had a lot on his mind. He rolled over and slapped the alarm clock off his night stand, causing it to go flying and then roll across the floor. He sighed and closed his eyes again, his mind racing.

He was still upset, but more than that, he had an overwhelming sense of guilt. Diluc had allowed his jealousy to get in the way of his deep care for you. He was finally starting to become more confident that you returned his feelings, and then he ruined it. That night in the hotel in Liyue, he was almost certain you felt the same way and he had planned on taking action. Now, you couldn't even stand to be in the same room as him.

He hadn't seen you since you rode off on that stranger's horse. When he had arrived at the manor, he asked Adelinde if you had returned and she told him you asked to be left alone. The rest of the weekend was agony. He was so unsure of everything; a stark contrast to his attitudes in Liyue.

Diluc thought about your face when you listed off your dark confessions. You looked so angry. So sad. So hurt. And he was the one who had hurt you. He had prided himself on not prying into your personal life and now here he was: the man who coerced you to tell him everything. He thought about the ride to Liyue and what you had said to him.

"I trust you," your voice echoed in his head.

He had tried to convince himself he was angry about you being a Fatui agent, but he knew that wasn't true. He was jealous of the fact that you had a fiancée. You had hugged that man so tenderly and spoken to him with such care, Diluc couldn't push back the green monster of envy. He thought about Tartaglia's hands on your waist, and the way you looked at him before saying goodbye. What if you changed your mind and went back with him? What if you loved that guy? What if you two actually got married?

Fatui or not, Diluc wanted to be waiting for you at the end of the aisle when-

His eyes snapped open. He had fallen back asleep. He sat up quickly and looked around his room. Where were you? You had woken him up every day for the past year, but today you didn't show up. He knew why. His body felt heavy for a second. He considered going back to sleep, but hoped maybe you would be waiting for him downstairs.

He quickly stood up and replaced his alarm clock on his bedside table. His eyes widened when he saw the time. He hadn't just dozed off, he had fallen back asleep for another thirty minutes. He quickly rushed through his routine and burst through his bedroom door, still putting his hair up in a ponytail. He prayed he would walk down the stairs and you would be sitting at the table. He took a deep breath and looked at your usual seat.

It was empty.

He felt disappointment wash over him as he sat down at his spot. He stared down at the cold, soggy pancakes and lukewarm coffee that was his breakfast. Pushing the plate away, he decided he didn't have an appetite and took a reluctant swallow of coffee.

He just wanted to apologize. He knew what he had said was wrong. He shouldn't have made you feel like you had to justify not wanting to divulge your trauma to him. Your struggles were your own and nobody else's. You were right. Your wrongdoings of the past don't define who you are in the present. He didn't care about it, anyway. He fell for the person you were because of everything you had gone through. You wouldn't be the same without it.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a piece of paper sitting at your spot. He quickly grabbed it, hoping it was a note telling him where you'd be or maybe even writing to him about what had happened. A frown appeared on his face when he realized the reality.