Drunk In Love || Diluc x Reader

Chapter 8

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You made your way to the sink inside the tavern, turning the water on and grabbing a rag.

You let out an unexpected yawn, feeling your stomach bubble from the alcohol.

"Don't tell me you're actually going to clean my glasses."

Diluc had approached you, making you smile as you wet the rag. "Of course. I figured you may want to enjoy the party a little longer."

"...I thought you only said that so we could carry out our plans for tonight." He stated.

"Yes and no." You replied with a hot throat.

He sighed, watching you clean off the tip of the glass. "If you hold it like that, it'll break."

"Then show me how I'm supposed to hold it." You said.

He stepped behind you, grabbing your hands. You thought back to the time when he unlocked the door for you, making your face hot.

His hands covered yours completely as he moved them along the glass gently.

"...Hold it at an angle so the handle doesn't shatter." He spoke beside your face.

You bit your lip, feeling his chest press onto your back once more.

You tried to blame the alcohol for your next actions.

You slowly pulled your hands forward to push the glass under the warm water. Diluc stepped closer into you, making his hips press onto your bottom.

You silently washed the glass to his movements, your mind racing.

"Master Diluc..." You started moving your hands from his.

"Yes?" He replied, not moving from your body.

"...Is there, um, something in your pocket...?"

"Something in my..."

You felt his chest leave your back, and you turned around to look at him.

He faced away from you, his hair covering his face. "...Just finish washing the glass. You got the hang of it."

You held back a laugh as you finished cleaning. Turning the water off, you dried your hands and stepped away from the sink.

"Done. What time is it?" You asked.

"Midnight." He replied.

You listened to the commotion on the balcony. "We should head out tomorrow, then, considering that you still have to stay here."

He nodded. "I figured."

An awkward silence came about before you spoke up. "Well... I'm going to head out now."

"...Alright."

"Goodnight." You said.

"...Goodnight." He replied back.

You waved and walked out of the tavern, leaving him alone.

He sighed, crossing his arms and looking back at the sink.

He found himself wishing that you hadn't left just yet.

With this new feeling in his body, he grabbed the wine glass you cleaned and picked up a bottle from the shelf.

Pouring the Vodka inside the glass, he bit back at this foreign feeling in his heart. He hated alcohol— he disliked the taste of it and its effects.

But how else would he drown out his thoughts created by his 'sidekick'?