His days don't really differ nowadays. He spends his days at the mechanical workshop, fixes a few things go and goes home after that. The House of the Hearth is still a home for him, but he got a permission from Father to find his own place. Arlecchino was skeptical at first, but granted him permission eventually.

Most of the days are boring. There is not much of a change from day to day. Just like now, he comes back home, tired and basically drained from interacting with people. He couldn't stand another word being said to anyone. Except one person.

You.

A commonner, whom he is always happy to see. One who doesn't judge him for being a part of the Fatui. Who he can share everything with, knowing he will be taken seriously and won't be told he's overreacting. A person he knows everything about, even the most intimate details.

His hands know every inch of your body, every tiny spot that makes you squirm in pleasure. His ears, ever listening, know all your reactions merely by the sounds you make. Your hands, ever gentle, however, leave the scratches on his back.

Seeing you every evening eases his worries, lightens his mood. His tired eyes don't blink as he looks at you. He feels he weight of the world being lifted off his shoulders as his feet carry him to you.