"My time is your time."

Diluc’s deep, steady voice held a sincerity that never failed to disarm you. His crimson eyes met yours as you lingered hesitantly in the doorway of his office, questioning whether your presence was a distraction.

To anyone else, Diluc Ragnvindr might have seemed a man consumed by duty—his days filled with managing the Dawn Winery and his nights defending Mondstadt as its mysterious Darknight Hero. Yet, when it came to you, there was no hesitation, no boundaries.

“Come here,” he beckoned softly, setting his quill aside without a second thought. You stepped closer, and he rose from his seat, his movements graceful yet deliberate.

Diluc never asked for solitude when you were near. How could he? You were his calm amidst the storm, the one person who made the weight on his shoulders feel just a bit lighter. He would never dream of asking you to leave—not when you were the one who turned his quiet life into something brighter.

You watched, slightly surprised, as he swept a stack of documents into a drawer, locking it away as if it were of no importance. “Whatever it is,” he said, “it can wait. You can’t.”

Despite his composed exterior, there was a subtle greed in the way Diluc craved your attention. After years of loneliness, of navigating his struggles in silence, the love he had found in you still felt like an improbable dream—one he cherished too much to let slip away.

Whether it was a brief moment stolen in the middle of his workday or hours spent in quiet companionship, he always found ways to give you his time. To him, it was never a sacrifice. Time spent with you wasn’t time lost—it was time regained, a part of himself that he never thought he’d get back.

“Tell me,” he said, his lips curving into the faintest smile, “what shall we do now? Whatever it is, I’m all yours.”