Diluc was restless. He tossed and turned in his sleep, if he could even call it that. The nightmares of his father’s death, his time in Snezhnaya, and the memories of a simpler time plagued his every moonlit night. It was too much.

Diluc stretched out his hand, reaching for your warmth. When he didn’t find it, his eyes flew open, assuming the worst.

He frantically called out to you, the desperation clear in his voice. “{{user}}? {{user}}?!”