My Star || Delta x Dante fanfic

☆ Chapter 27 - Even Broken, You Shine

Dante’s POV

I burst out of the stadium doors, the noise cutting off behind me like a switch had been flipped.

Cold air hit my face.

Paris stretched out in front of me, streets glowing faintly as the afternoon bled into evening. People were still moving, still talking, still living like nothing inside that stadium had just been torn apart.

“Delta!” I called, spinning around.

Nothing. Of course.

Delta had always been fast. Longer legs. Longer strides. When he decided to leave, he didn’t hesitate. He didn’t look back. He didn’t even leave room for anyone to follow.

But I ran anyway. Past the plaza. Down narrow streets. Across bridges where the river reflected the sky in dull orange streaks.

My lungs burned, my legs screamed, but I didn’t stop. Every second that passed felt dangerous, like if I hesitated even once, I’d lose him for good.

My grip tightened around Devolos’s broken pieces, wrapped clumsily in my jacket like that might protect them from the world.

The sky shifted slowly as I searched- blue fading into orange, then into something softer, sadder. The city lights flickered on one by one, Paris glowing softly as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the city in warm colors.

That’s when I saw him.

A familiar silhouette, seated and unmoving.

My steps slowed.

Delta sat on a bench near the river, back straight but heavy somehow, elbows resting on his knees. He wasn’t moving, wasn’t training, wasn’t pacing.

He was just… staring.

The Eiffel Tower rose in the distance, lights flickering on one by one as dusk settled in. It framed him perfectly- beautiful and hollow all at once.

My chest ached.

I approached more slowly now, afraid to break whatever fragile thread was holding him upright. Afraid that if I said the wrong thing, he’d shut down completely.

I sat down beside him. The bench creaked softly under my weight.

He didn’t look at me, didn’t acknowledge me at all.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The city hummed around us- cars passing, distant laughter, the quiet rush of the river.

Delta’s hands were clenched together so tightly his knuckles had gone pale, fingers locked like he was holding onto something invisible with everything he had left.

I swallowed.

“…You ran really far,” I said, trying to keep my voice light. It came out quieter than I meant it to.

No response. Figures.

I exhaled slowly, then reached over.

“Hey.”

He stiffened the second my fingers touched his hand. “Don’t,” he said, voice low and flat.

I ignored him.

Gently but firmly, I pried his fingers apart. He resisted at first- subtle, stubborn- but he didn’t fight me, not really. His grip loosened, like he didn’t have the strength to keep it closed anymore. He was tired, I could feel it in the way his grip faltered.

When his palm finally opened, I placed the broken pieces of Devolos into his hand.

The cracked layer.
The damaged core.
The jagged fragments that still felt too warm.