Chapter 8

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this chapter got me giggling hihihihi another one before i get swamped with schoolwork again. as always unedited


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The flickering light of Angel's Share's hearth painted long shadows across the walls, mingling with the warm glow of the chandeliers. The air was alive with the raucous laughter of rowdy patrons, the clinking of glasses, and the occasional shout that rose above the din. It was a lively night—busier than usual—but something felt... off.

Diluc stood behind the bar, his usual corner seat abandoned in favor of keeping a closer eye on the increasingly loud crowd. His gloved hands worked methodically as he cleaned a glass, though his crimson eyes frequently darted toward the entrance. It wasn't like her to be late.

Y/N was never late.

Even with the chaos that came with running the tavern, she always arrived just as the first wave of patrons trickled in. Her timing was as steady as the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner. And when she did, things seemed to run smoother. The rowdiest customers grew quiet under her no-nonsense gaze, the usual small brawls were defused before they even started, and even the drunkest of patrons seemed to toe the line in her presence. She didn't command with words, but with an air of quiet authority that seemed to say, Don't make me deal with you.

But tonight? The door remained shut. No familiar figure had walked in, arms crossed and ready to keep the peace with little more than a raised eyebrow.

The absence of her steady presence was palpable. The tavern felt louder tonight, as if the lack of her unspoken control had tipped the balance. Diluc glanced toward Charles, who was manning the bar, pouring drinks for a group of adventurers who were already halfway to being fully drunk.

"She's late," Charles muttered under his breath, his brow furrowing as he handed off another pint.

"Uncharacteristically so," Diluc replied, his voice low. He set the glass down with slightly more force than intended, the sound sharp enough to make the nearby adventurers glance his way before resuming their rowdy conversation.

It wasn't just unusual; it was unsettling. Y/N's dependability was something Diluc had come to rely on—not just for the tavern, but... for himself. The thought struck him as odd, though he couldn't quite deny it. He'd grown used to her presence in ways he hadn't realized until now.

The tavern door swung open, and Diluc's gaze snapped toward it, only for disappointment to settle in when he saw a group of adventurers walk in, their loud laughter grating against his ears. The night dragged on, the noise growing louder, and still, Y/N did not appear.

Diluc finally retreated to his usual corner seat, the distant din of the patrons fading into the background. His gloved fingers tapped lightly against the armrest of his chair, his crimson eyes distant as they flickered toward the still-shut tavern door.

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