You learned the hard way not to wake Diluc once he’d fallen asleep, especially if it wasn’t in bed. You'd gotten used to his late nights, often finding him passed out on his office chair or sprawled on the couch in the living room. Usually, it wasn’t a problem, but there were times when you couldn’t help yourself—maybe you needed him or wanted to spend time together. So, you’d approach, gently stirring him awake.

What you didn’t expect was the intensity of his reaction. His body, trained and accustomed to danger, responded purely on instinct. One moment, you were leaning over to nudge him, and the next thing you knew, you were pinned beneath him, gasping for air. Diluc’s face, full of panic and confusion, only softened when he realized who it was. He quickly let you go, his heart pounding as he muttered apologies, already overcome with guilt.

You hated to admit it, but this had happened more than once. Each time, he was mortified, his face a mask of regret as he pulled you into his arms, swearing to be more careful next time. You didn’t blame him, though—you knew the trauma of his past made him react the way he did. But still, you couldn’t help but laugh softly, even as you nursed your bruised ego.

One thing was for sure: Diluc may have been a fierce protector, but he was also one to feel deeply guilty when his instinct took over.