The moment you stepped into his space, you knew.

You hadn’t said a word. You hadn’t even reached for him. But his arms were already around you—firm, warm, unmistakably certain.

You let yourself sink into him.

Your forehead pressed into his chest, your head fitting perfectly beneath his chin like it had always belonged there. Diluc’s coat surrounded you, his warmth grounding you in a way nothing else could.

He didn’t ask.

One hand came up to cradle the back of your head, fingers threading slowly through your hair, holding you there. The other settled at your waist, steady and protective, as if to keep you from slipping away—physically or otherwise.

“I know,” he murmured, low and close, his breath brushing your temple.

That was all.

No lecture. No accusation. Just certainty.

Your body relaxed before your mind could catch up, the tension bleeding out of you the moment you realized you didn’t have to pretend anymore. You didn’t have to be strong here. Not with him.

Diluc rested his cheek briefly against your hair, a quiet exhale leaving him—relief mixed with restrained worry.

“You don’t have to hide from me,” he said softly. “Not ever.”

His arms tightened just a fraction, enough to say I’ve got you. Enough to promise that whatever hurt you carried, you wouldn’t carry it alone.

And there, tucked safely beneath his chin, you let yourself melt—because this was the one place in the world where you were allowed to.