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Walking behind the church was something he rarely did, the night was cold, empty even, no one was around to see him, tonight he wasn’t wearing any mask, he held a bouquet of flowers in his trembling hands. If anyone was around they would have most likely heard him, he was breathing heavily, tears wallowing at the corner of his eyes, he wasn’t going to cry, that’s what he told himself every time.
Yet he stood still, almost like a statue, he tried to keep his breathing steady, he couldn’t bring himself to let the flowers down, he didn’t want to place them on the ground, he looked at the heading on the headstone, he watched closely every single letter, every number, “loving father” he could feel his eyes filling up with tears but he didn’t cry, not tonight, not again.
Too soon, too soon, will it ever get better? Will I ever stop crying here? Will I ever get better?
Diluc is quiet, but his breathing is accelerating, he feels his legs turning to jelly, he’s going to fall on his knees, but he doesn’t, he doesn’t cry, he can’t he’s too old for it, he’s too strong for it, it’s not something his father would have ever wanted to see. His hands tremble and he doesn’t dare to move.
The smell of his hair, the warmth of his hug, his face
Diluc barely holds himself together, he breaths loudly trying to remember, red eyes? Golden? Had he always smelled of ash? Blood? he could swear it was cinnamon and honey, grapes and burning wood, was it? Everything seems to disappear around him, what did he sound like? His laugh was surely overpowering, filling the room, one that would spread to everyone around him, did he have wrinkles? No, no it was impossible, he was too young, surely, his dad was too strong to get wrinkles.
Diluc falls to his knees, salty hot tears stream down his face, he doesn’t even seem like he has noticed, he hiccups like a child, his eyes don’t leave the heading, Crepus Ragvindr, “loving father”, Diluc holds his breath almost afraid to let it out, to be heard, no, tonight he wasn’t meant to cry, he was supposed to get better.
Does it ever get better? It’s been years, when will we meet again?
The grass over the burial is soft, well kept, the flowers spill from his trembling hands at his feet, he finds himself lying down petting the soft, cold, grass gently, as it could be felt by his father, does it ever get better?
He cries silently, letting only hiccups escape his mouth, eyes closed looking to see him again, sometimes Diluc dreams about him, it’s a fleeting instant, his father gently petting his hair as he falls asleep in his gentle embrace, but it lasts too little, yet the warm touch lingers. He feels it even now, it’s almost too much.
Some days he wonders how long it’ll take to meet again? Rationally he knows he’ll see him again when he dies as an old man, after having handed down the Winery to his future children, if he’ll even have any.
But some days he hopes their reunion comes much faster, much earlier, sometimes he almost doesn’t move from upcoming attacks, hoping for a moment to see his father again, then he moves, out of fear, out of self preservation, then he’s disgusted at himself for not having dodged properly, for what he was thinking, but he doesn’t deny it.
Alone at the dinner table, he watches the food getting cold, thinking of the silence that fills the Winery, oppressive, a stark reminder of everything even when he can’t picture anything, he can’t see his father at the table, Kaeya sitting next to him, Adeline walking around from the kitchen to the dining room, he knows everything, he remembers everything, but he can't see it, it's been so long, it's been years, he can't even bring himself to uncover the paintings and pictures of his father, of his childhood, nothing will ever be the same, it's been years, years of bottled up feelings, nights unslept because of a knot in his chest he can’t untie.
Some days are worse than others, his stomach twists and turns, he can’t speak without bursting into sobs, he can’t get out of bed, every limb of his body weighing tons, every breath stuck in his throat, every action he can’t take angers him, on those day he prefers to stay in bed, because he knows how volatile his mental state is, he knows he can do it, he knows he will do it, there’s weapons around the winery, his bedroom sits on the second floor, he’d say he isn’t going to do it, but he would, he sees it in his own eyes when he looks in the mirror, that’s what scares him, the awareness of his willingness to go through with it.
Some days he’s closer than others, tonight was one of those days. As tears stream down his face he holds the knife in his jacket, a hunting knife, it’s beautifully crafted, the steal blade it perfectly sharp, bringing it to his neck wouldn’t hurt, that’s what he repeats in his head, what he cries about, if only he could bring it to his throat he wouldn’t have to cry anymore, he could run back into his father’s arms, listen to his voice again, feel him pet his hair like when he was a child. He’s angry, he wants to do it, why does he remain so still, why can’t he move, it should be so easy, so simple, just one quick deep cut and it’ll be over forever, he won’t have to worry about the winery, the Fatui, Angel’s Share, no more pain, no more stress, no more days spent in his bed crying, no more knots in his throat, he’ll be able to breath easily, he’ll be able to rest.
The knife feels heavy in his hand, he trembles as he gets on his knees, what would his dad think? Diluc knows it already, he would cry, he would be devastated, to know his beloved son has taken his own life, what about Adeline? What would she think? Would she think she hasn’t been a good enough support? A good friend? Would she blame herself? And Kaeya? Would it become another weight on his shoulders? Would he do it too?
That makes his cry even more, like a child, he gets up trembling, he is scared, like a little kid.
he stumbles back to the winery still in tears, his breathing heavy, if only his dad was there, he’d run in his arms, he wanted to be comforted, to feel someone else holding him, his own arms did nothing, everything was cold and empty, the lights weren’t down yet, he couldn’t let Adeline see him in this state, he ran up to his room, he was acting so childishly, he felt childish, he wanted his dad, his brother, but he was alone and alone he was meant to remain.