vision • diluc

xx

• third person •

It's morning.

(Y/N) stared out of her window with half-lidded eyes, shivering silently on top of her old duvet. Sighing, she hid her face into her pillow, too exhausted to even move.

It's been a while since I last woke up to an empty house...

Strangely, it doesn't feel as lonely as it used to.

For some reason, (Y/N) found a smile rising upon her face as her gaze fell towards her carpeted floor.

Somehow, right now... I feel... really at peace.

A soft giggle escaped her lips.

Too bad peace never lasts when it comes to me.

Finally, (Y/N) managed to hurl herself off the bed, rummaging through her backpack to freshen up for the day.

Though, soon enough, she found herself sitting right back on that bed, suddenly too hesitant to do anything.

What if... Mom didn't tell me about Dad for good reason..? What if... his inventions were really dangerous..? What if she was just trying to keep me safe..?

She really admired him... so surely she never hated him, did she..?

(Y/N) ran her hand over her face.

But I need to get the antidote for Mondstadt... For Ajax...

Finally, she pushed herself to her feet, forcing them over towards her mother's room on the opposite side of the hallway.

(Y/N) was never one to snoop around her parent's bedroom. (Y/N) always kept to herself, and so did her mother. The pair of them respected each other's privacy, and that was that.

She didn't even know where to start. Everything was in the exact same place she remembered, the bed in the corner of the room with that tiny bedside table... as well as a small cot next to it her mother never had the heart to put away for some strange reason. The walls were plastered with that all too familiar patterned wallpaper, and the floors were carpeted with a similar pattern.

(Y/N) coughed as an eruption of dust reached her nose as she opened the wardrobe. All of her mother's old clothes remained untouched, along with the little shelves inside littered with all sorts of trinkets and perfumes and the sort.

This is just making me really sad, to be honest.

Somehow, acknowledging her feelings made her less likely to burst into tears at any given moment.

(Y/N) grabbed a stool, searching right at the top of the shelves to the very bottom, as well as through the bottom drawers, and everything between.

Nothing.

She turned towards the next and only other wardrobe.

Take two.

This time, she started from the bottom.

The drawers were all full of various paperwork, along with old drawings and photos she didn't even know could have existed at that time.

Though, no matter how hard she searched, there wasn't a single thing on her father.

That was, until, she reached the top shelf of that very wardrobe.

(Y/N)'s eyes widened when her fingers stumbled upon an immensely thick, dusty notebook. Gently, she tugged it out from beneath the piles of paper, carefully flicking open the first page.