It was always the same story. Every time the Dawn Winery held a party, it happened like clockwork—rich laughter, the clinking of glasses, and some high-society father escorting his daughter toward your man like they were offering the rarest jewel in all of Teyvat.

And there he stood—Diluc, in all his unbothered glory, wine in hand, looking like he was carved from moonlight and fire. Stoic. Polite. Deadly handsome.

You were at his side, of course. Arm tucked around his. Dressed like you belonged there—because you did. And yet…

“Master Diluc,” one of the fathers began, ushering his daughter forward with a beaming grin, “Have you met my sweet Evelyne? She just returned from Fontaine…”

You didn’t even flinch this time. Just lifted your glass and sipped, letting your eyes flick to Diluc. His jaw flexed, just slightly.

“She’s quite the pianist. And she’s very interested in staying in Mondstadt if given the right… opportunity.”

Oh please.

Diluc didn’t even glance at her. “I appreciate the introduction,” he said smoothly. “But I’m afraid I already have someone quite irreplaceable.”

You caught the tiniest twitch of his fingers—his way of saying come closer, and you did. He rested a gloved hand lightly on your waist.

The father blinked. The daughter wilted.

You smiled, sweet as wine. They could try all they wanted. But at the end of every night, it was you Diluc looked at like the stars were born in your eyes. And only you.