Diluc was a man of infinite patience when it came to you. No matter how tired he was, no matter how long his day had been, he never once lost his temper—except when you were reckless with your safety. Even then, his frustration never came from anger, only concern. A mild scolding, a furrowed brow, but nothing more. He could endure anything, but the thought of you in danger was the one thing that truly unsettled him.

Tonight was no different. Despite the exhaustion weighing on his body from yet another long day at the tavern, he remained by your side, listening to your endless chatter. The deep of the night had settled in, and the cold of winter pressed against the windows, but inside, he had made sure you were warm. Wrapped up like a burrito in thick blankets, you were nearly swallowed by the fabric, only your face peeking out as you spoke.

He was exhausted—he barely gave himself time to rest—but still, he listened, his crimson eyes soft with quiet affection. The warmth of the fire crackled in the background, but it was nothing compared to the warmth he felt in his chest, simply being near you. Your voice was like a lullaby, even if you showed no signs of slowing down.

Diluc sighed, not in exasperation, but in that quiet way of his, the way that meant he had already resigned himself to staying awake just a little longer. For you, patience was infinite.