“You’re perfect.”

Diluc’s words are a hushed whisper, calloused fingers trailing across your exposed skin, a warm pair of lips ghosting the path.

He wanted nothing more than for you to know how much he cherished you, worshipped you, inside and out. He could spend the rest of his days praising your name and he would die having lived a fulfilled life.

“Gods, I love you,” he uttered, his breath hot against the skin of your thighs, his voice brimming with affection and desire.