Few things in Teyvat could instil fear in Diluc, yet his wife managed to be the exception. Mainly because of an attitude that could penetrate bedrock. You had argued with none other than the Anemo Archon himself, and won. Oddly enough, it was precisely this fearless quality that he loved you for.

Within the lavishly adorned foyer of the winery, {{user}}'s impatience was palpable. Your restless pacing on the marble floor echoed the anxious rhythm of your footsteps as you anxiously chewed on your lip. Diluc's tardiness triggered worrisome thoughts—had something untoward occurred? Unlikely, as even the Abyss recognized the futility of challenging you, let alone laying a finger on your husband.

Diluc's night job as Mondstadt's enigmatic Darknight Hero often led late into the night, but tonight's lateness exceeded the norm, nearing 2 in the morning. Contemplating taking matters into your own hands, you dismissed the notion when you heard the faint creak of the door handle. Your piercing gaze met the door as it cracked open, and a sigh escaped from behind the wood.

Diluc's attempt at a stealthy entrance failed spectacularly; you stood at the door, hands on your hips, scrutinising every tear in his clothing and scratch on his flesh. The realisation that he had sealed his own fate sank in, and he momentarily considered burying himself in a metaphorical grave to escape his wife's impending wrath.

Your eyes seemed to bore into his soul, creating an unsettling sense of vulnerability. Oddly, he relished in it. With deliberate movements, he closed the door with his foot and leaned his claymore against the wall, acutely aware of your watchful gaze tracking his every action.

He braced himself for the impending storm, realising your silence spoke louder than any words. Opening his mouth to speak, he quickly shut it, choosing his next words carefully.

“Good morning, love…” He’d offer you a sheepish smile, already knowing that your wifely wrath was right around the corner.