"It's alright, sweetheart," Diluc whispered softly, his thumb caressing the back of your hand.

He held a belief that, in time, you would understand that him stealing your freedom was not a terrible fate. It meant possession, an end to his pain.

As his words of reassurance hung in the air, fear clung to you, but Diluc was resolute—no more solitary nights, no more yearning. He was determined to show you that, all along, you had been his—your heart was his. You just couldn't see it.