[ is it really disappointment? or is it the bitter acceptance of a truth? soured like grapes on the vine, hands sticky with the residue of all the summers between, he thinks it serves him right. he's thinks it serves him right, that he is stung by the things that linger and sup and breed. never one to flinch from the fire, always one to embrace the fangs of the cold — it is a stubbornness that will be the end of him, he knows. and yet, the poison spreads into the wound. it gnaws at the pettiest portions of him, prickles along the scars kaeya's painted clean against him. it seizes in the throat and diluc breathes around it. fixes his gaze, once more and eventually, on the dark star that hangs in the pale of kaeya's lone eye.
perhaps they are truly doomed after all. wrapped irreparably about the fingers of the other, the rot too deep to salvage the foundations and the roots. diluc holds no illusions. not since his youth, when the name on kaeya's lips was soft and sweet and all things untrue. ]
Anyway, [ he says, after a staggered beat or two. the flat line of his mouth parts about the sigh, fingers dug into his arms. ] Just cut to the chase and tell me what you want.
[ isn't that always what it boils down to? an exchange, some business. kaeya needn't remind him he's nothing more to give him. he needn't remind himself too. ]
no subject
perhaps they are truly doomed after all. wrapped irreparably about the fingers of the other, the rot too deep to salvage the foundations and the roots. diluc holds no illusions. not since his youth, when the name on kaeya's lips was soft and sweet and all things untrue. ]
Anyway, [ he says, after a staggered beat or two. the flat line of his mouth parts about the sigh, fingers dug into his arms. ] Just cut to the chase and tell me what you want.
[ isn't that always what it boils down to? an exchange, some business. kaeya needn't remind him he's nothing more to give him. he needn't remind himself too. ]