sempiternals | softer than rain, harder than pain

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softer than rain, harder than pain | @dawnbreaked

[ Trusting him was a mistake.

It was easier when she was a free agent, not having to worry about anyone else, focusing only on what she needed, what her company needed, working on a professional and not personal level, keeping her distance from others and letting them keep their distance from her.

It was lonely, but it was easier.

As a free agent, for example, she never would have been pacing the kitchen of the Dawn Winery with clenched fists and burning eyes, trying not to just snap and break something while Diluc's staff tend to him behind closed doors, caring for him through an unconsciousness going on at least a few hours now. She wouldn't be trembling with the cold horror of her Vision's resonance, nor dealing with tears she's unable to hide, sparkling as they are like diamonds frosted to her eyelashes. It wouldn't have been her for whom Kaeya came running, grave anxiety written over his face, tears of his own evident in the redness of his eyes and cheeks despite his attempts to hide them; she wouldn't have even known this was happening—

Somehow the thought does nothing to ease her churning, angry stomach. Eula closes her eyes and cups a hand over her mouth, convinced for a moment she's going to vomit. The free hand waves away whatever staff member it is who's trying to comfort her— she doesn't know these people, not enough for this— before coming to rest on the counter in front of her. She can feel the anxiety trembling through her skin where it contacts the furniture.

I swear, Ragnvindr, she thinks, a tight hold on the counter as if that will somehow make it better, if you get through this I'm going to kill you myself.

...

He'd better get through this. ]

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[ It's not that Eula has forgotten the alcohol-driven habits he mentioned, it's more that she just hasn't actively remembered them. In her mind, alcohol is the perfect accompaniment for a date, and having never seen him drink, what he told her back on the mountain has admittedly slipped her mind enough that she didn't think twice about bringing it. Perhaps if she'd had more forethought, she wouldn't have brought it with her— after all, while the thought of her boyfriend being clingy is certainly a cute one, logic would tell her with confidence that his being so while she's already frustrated from the weeks of abstinence will not be helpful— but alas, it was not to be, and she sets it on the table now that she's sat down, smiling up at him warmly. ]

Well, "your best" certainly has a lovely smell to it. And it is my understanding that if something smells good, it is very likely to taste good, too.

[ Once he's seated too, she reaches to pour a glass of the wine for each of them, explaining: ]

I thought it might be nice for you to drink something not made from your own hard work. So I chose something from my stores, a Liyue wine I picked up last time I was in the region. [ A pause, and then an embarrassed smile as she continues, ] I hope it tastes good. I've not tested it myself.

[ After all, she is admittedly usually more of an ale person than a wine person... or a "something strong" kind of person on the worse days. But neither of those makes for a date drink, especially not when your date is a vintner himself.

...A very attractive vintner, she notices yet again, now that he's seated across from her. The flickering of the candle playing off his face, casting shadows and glowing light besides across his figure... he's too close to her for a proper dinner but she hardly finds herself minding when the view is this good. ]

(On one hand he is thankful that it was nothing heavy, on the other he also is going to be eternally grateful that this ironically will only be something between them instead of others discovering his drunken habit of clinging. Even if she did have it slip from mind since he's assuming that's the case; he'll just hope that they make it somewhat through eating first before he winds up causing the two of them to go from quiet dinner to their abstinence being broken far too easily than some would think.

Especially since Diluc half thinks that might also add on to his clinging knowing his desire to be at her side. Regardless, he'll have to try it since he hasn't had this particular vintage around before. Not to drink but to move about as needed with importing knowing his businesses.

It did make him smile anyway even if he knows he'll be feeling this in the morning but he can't help but be touched she went that far for something out of their elements together.) Is it new actually? I don't think I've seen it before. (He did have enough trade with Liyue's winemakers after all so normally he knew most of them. Marking this as a pleasant surprise that there's one he didn't know of.

Though there is thoughts of her own beauty hitting him from their close proximity, perhaps a little thankful that Kaeya did this though now he's wondering if he was trying to tell them to let out their frustrations due to vaguely remembering mentions of fear of angering Eula during those three weeks.)

I'll likely enjoy it anyway, I think... I did prefer sweet unsurprisingly knowing my habit of drinking juice. (And non-alcoholic ciders too, but that was a given.)

[ At any other time, if someone asked her even the relative vintage of the wine they're drinking, she would have no idea how to answer. Again, Eula isn't really a wine person herself. Ale most days, spirits on worse days. Wine... wine on occasions like this... and this would be the first of those occasions. However, when you're dating(? are they? ...she really should ask...) a vintner, it's a question for which you have to be prepared. And so Eula is prepared, having thought to do her homework before the date. While she played it off as being something already in her stores, procured during her most recent visit, said was during his time confined to bed, and the wine purchased with purpose, waiting in her stores since then.

The result is that she's able to give him a smile and a nod, rather than the ridiculous expression she would have been wearing otherwise. ] I should have known you'd figure as much. As a matter of fact, when I went, I asked them for something more recent. [ After all, it's not like she doesn't know he trades with the Liyue wineries.

She sits back a little, wanting him to taste it first, wanting in part just to watch him savor its taste— not to mention the fact that she's just enjoying watching him in general.

(Of course, she's yet to know that Kaeya had anything to do with their seating arrangement, but if he were to tell her at this point, she wouldn't be surprised. Not that she's aware the Cavalry Captain has been mouthing off about her mood these past weeks... that is something she'd be mortified to know Diluc has been made to know.)

She lifts her glass, her smile warm as she offers a toast: ]

To your recovery.

(It helps Diluc doesn't mind she might not know typically, really a lot of his knowledge is drilled into his head from how long he's been at work with anything to do with wine. Part of how he can recommend vintages with ease is due to that as long as he has enough time to know the persons tastes; best to not accidentally sleight someone by giving them the wrong bottle or wrong flavor. Unless it's Fatui in which case he'd do it happily if he could get away with that.

However this is all around different, they were both seemingly unable to take their eyes off one another which is something that relaxes him more. Mutually being smitten it seems like in the way that he looks at her as she speaks, his own smile growing a little as he can't help but feel even with knowing how he gets due to being weak on terms of tolerance with drinking, that the evening so far will be successful for their first ever proper date.

(Not that he told Kaeya their activities were less than normal, then again he also avoided mentioning just how physical they can get if alone for a good bit.)

At seeing her raise the glass, he can't help himself in the way that he laughs a little since even he could drink to that but maybe he wants to add more on to it too. For once. He did behave differently around her with parts of him he thought gone simply coming out for her again anyway though after some thought, he can do that some other time if he did drink together with her on a rare occasion. If they had chances for more dates.)

... to my recovery.

(The clink of the wine glasses from raising his own with hers soon filling the air just before he takes a swig of it though slowly to not let it hit him all at once. By his reaction he did in fact like this one, marking it another rare instance on terms of Diluc actually enjoying alcohol for a change.

He'll have to remember this later then though he'd still like to be sober for her on terms of other occasions.)

[ Eula smiles when he repeats the toast, clinking the glass with his and then watching in silence as he drinks, and there's something clearly relieved in her expression to see approval on his— after all, she knows he ironically doesn't enjoy most alcohols, which had been something else she'd had in mind when she went looking for something different. Only then does she lift her own glass to her lips, her eyes closing for a moment at its unique, nearly sweet taste, and there's something about it that's almost familiar and yet not at the same time, something she can't quite place but adds a strong flavor to the drink. ]

...I like this, [ she admits after a moment, opening her eyes— and then having to blink again, because the drink isn't that strong but seeing him in front of her again instantly makes her feel like she's had one too many.

She puts the drink down, knowing her cheeks are turning pink. Maybe she can blame that on the drink, on the heat of alcohol and some other flavor on her tongue— but she knows it's him.

...Food. Food is a good idea, lest she get drunk on a sip and the sight of him. ]

So... what's on the menu tonight?

[ Apart from you, she wants to say, but she bites it back in favor of looking across the table. She can see the spread laid out in front of them of course, but it seems somehow proper to have him introduce the food he's spent his time and effort preparing for their enjoyment.

Barbatos forfend, though, he looks good. Has three weeks of no touching really done this to her? It's so strange to think of the person she was before that night on Dragonspine, stoic and cold to all and with an occasional itch that she scratched with sex steeped in hate and anger. To think there was someone who could crack open that shell of ice enough not only to see who she is at her core, but to make her crave his touch enough that even three weeks is too much for her... ]

(Diluc himself typically isn't much of a drinker as she knows but he can't help but maybe appreciate that she was willing to go to this extent for his sake. There's a mutual sort of thoughts going around and not just caused by alcohol for him entirely once he finds his eyes on her with a near thought that he could have said 'how about me' to her question. The thought which makes him near blush since as usual the alcohol is hitting him quickly even with just that sip.

Focus Diluc. He didn't need to make himself look odd even for him knowing that the alcohol as good as it was, isn't the only thing causing those thoughts after a long three weeks of abstaining from one another.

Though after forcing himself back into reality he figures he better go on about the food now; Sumeru cuisine is normally odd to most but the Samosa and Panipuri that he made was meant to show off things he learnt in his travels with the third being his own specialty. His own take on Pile 'Em Up, Once Upon a time in Mondstadt, though he has a feeling she might rightfully find the fairy tale like name of it amusing.

Or cute, whichever comes first to her.)

Samosa and Panipuri, whenever I was in Sumeru for part of my travels I picked up on how to make them... along with my specialty, Once Upon a time in Mondstadt, if you don't find them to be your liking.

(The spices aside, he knew that the beans in the Panipuri's case might be not too desirable depending. Though that was why he made sure that he at least provided something special for this with his own personal favorite meal. He did owe it to her to give her that since he talked about wanting her to try it.

And the food is working to distract his thoughts from an urge to just start to lean on her on top of the other thoughts of just wanting to kiss her. Gods he really is a terrible lightweight.)

[ He's told her about his take on Pile `Em Up before, but this is the first time he's telling her the name, and it's with a surprised raise of her brows that she looks at him— not laughing, not judging, neither amused nor declaring it cute but surprised nonetheless, finding the fairytale quality of the name somewhat romantic in its own way. As for the Sumeru cuisine, it's entirely new to her, and she's impressed that he's gone to the effort to cook something so remote, even if he worries it may not be entirely to her taste.

Everything looks amazing, and while the bite-sized pastries he called samosas seems particularly so (what can she say, there's nothing like a buttery, flaky crust), the only correct thing to do in her mind is to try his own favored dish first, especially when he's promised before now to make it for her. And so she reaches to the plate sitting in front of her, cutting a small slice out of the meal before placing it in her mouth.

The robust starch of the potato, and the distinct sharpness of the delicately-cut cheese make for a perfect complement to the medium-seared ribs, allowing the umami flavor of the meat to come through in a way neither over nor underpowered; the small bite practically melts on her tongue and Eula closes her eyes in content as she swallows, a soft hum of pleasure on her lips. Her eyes open again and without a word she cuts another small bite to eat, only speaking once the second piece joins the first: ]

This is magnificent, Diluc... I had no idea you could cook so well.

[ Yet another point in his favor, another thing that makes him far too attractive in her (admittedly biased) view. ]

(That definitely surprised him to notice that she wasn't calling it cute or anything but it's a pleasant surprise to Diluc, he'll have to admit that he has a preference more leaning toward romantic titles and fairytale like qualities in general. There's a small bit of nervousness since he isn't quite sure how she'll receive his specialty and personal favorite knowing that meat typically could be hit or miss to others in the way he prepares it. It's only when she seems to sound pleased and eats more that he feels some manner of relief and maybe a small bit of pride he managed to succeed in getting her approval.

Good then. That certainly makes how he might behave knowing how quickly he gets inebriated worth tonight in general with him starting on his own plate of his favored meal in general first. The Panipuri and Samosa can wait knowing that they're not necessarily fit for a main meal in comparison which is why he included his personal spin on Pile 'Em Up anyway.

Had he known that she was finding him more attractive by the minute when she speaks about his cooking, he likely would have been blushing more brightly than he is now from the alcohol. The alcohol and her anyway once he reaches to take another swig to wash it down with carefully knowing if he drinks too quickly she'll be in for a surprise.

He wants to at least hold it back until after they finish the bigger part of their meal... if he even could knowing how it gets him.)

It's a relief... I do enjoy doing it when I get the chance to, much to Adelinde's amusement.

(Especially since both him and Kaeya typically could fend for themselves and give her a well-deserved break as needed. Something which Diluc did this time while letting her watch due to her concerns about his being up and moving that much.)

[ By this point, she's certainly noticed the color in his cheeks, but she hasn't quite pieced it together with the alcohol he's drinking— after all, there's a matching color staining her skin too, and while the wine is no doubt in a small part responsible, it's largely due to him: his presence, his appearance, his Barbatos-damned everything.

Not to mention, of course, the wandering, not-so-innocent parts of her mind. Eula sips at her own wine, a smile on her lips as she listens to him explain. ]

Why does she find it amusing? If anything she should be proud. [ After all, she knows for how long Adelinde has looked out for Diluc, how important her presence is in the other's life— she can't help but feel that the other would be happy to see how far he's come from the revenge-driven, angry young man of whom Eula has heard so much. A different Diluc Ragnvindr, one whom technically she has met, even if the memory of him is as distant as the memory of her own cold, lonely past.

She shakes the thought off with another sip, her twice in as many moments, before putting the glass down. One more bite of his specialty meal follows before she allows herself to reach for one of the samosas.

It's spicy, but not in the hot, uncomfortable way some Liyue foods tend to be. It's a spice that pairs well with the meat, and of course the addition of the flaky parcel around it makes the whole thing divine— ]

...Mm, you've truly been holding out on me with these skills, Ragnvindr. What kind of vengeance does something like this deserve...?

[ Her hand twitches a little even as she keeps a tight grip on her cutlery; she desperately wants to reach out and touch him, but doing so before finishing the food would be an insult in her mind. ]

... it was more that she hasn't seen me get this way in quite some time. She was proud but amused that I was already up and moving in the kitchen not long after recovering. (Of course he didn't want to throw out there that Adelinde was more amused by the fact the two of them were together more often as well but that didn't necessarily matter much. She was pleased to know that someone was dragging out that part of Diluc again knowing how he is now; it almost seemed as if she was approving of this especially after discovering Eula would just about make him regret it if he were to continue being reckless.

With a mix of the wine and his own personal thoughts floating about wandering into a more... it's definitely starting to get harder to keep down specific things coming to mind pertaining to them having had not been able to touch each other for quite some time. He finds himself maybe being subtle in the way he's sitting near her, close enough his tie is in reach once he reaches over to eat one of the Samosa's himself after for the most part eating down his specialty further.

He's a bit grateful that he learned this one given after trying Liyue's own variations of spice filled dishes, though he may be pyro attuned that didn't exactly mean he enjoys incredibly spicy meals. At the very least he's pleased that showing off for her went that well given her reactions and words.)

... what do you have in mind then, exactly?

(The curiosity in him is enough that he has to wonder what it is she may perhaps do to enact said 'vengeance' knowing her of showing it means she may or may not be planning something. Of course not that he'd dare push for it to be in the middle of eating as much as he's given small openings for after.

Gods, he really is torturing himself.)

[ There are thoughts, probably, about Adelinde and her mixed amusement and pride toward Diluc, but they're very quickly chased away by the he meets her eyes with curiosity in his own, a shudder of pleasure dancing down her spine despite her immediate efforts to suppress it. Oh, she knows what she has in mind, and she knows he knows it too, from the way he shifts, not as subtle as he'd like, to make sure he's in easier reach—

Not subtle, but Eula takes the bait anyway, movement fast enough that she could potentially be mistaken for one chosen by the sharp speediness of Electro, her fingers curling around his tie to take a firm hold and tugging, pulling him forcibly to her and pressing her mouth against his, something hot and wet and demanding with the need she's been feeling these past three weeks.

But even then, it's brief; a stroke of her tongue along his lower lip a few seconds in being the end to it, her breath already short as she pulls back from him.

At the very least, they should finish eating, even if it's torture.

So she peers up at him, eyes dark and lids heavy, fingers uncurling from his tie so she can sit back, breath catching despite how briefly the kiss passed between them. ]

I could tell you, but [ ~~then I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off you, just from thinking about it~~ ] isn't it more interesting to make you wait for an answer?

[ Torture it may be, but that doesn't mean Eula can't have some fun with it. ]

(It was in that moment he realizes he may have messed up in one way, knowing though she spent three weeks without touching him after that day, he spent way longer than that not touching her. A thought which he had forgotten about in the alcohol once he finds himself dragged toward her, their lips together for that brief moment so filled with heat. So filled with desire once he finds himself dealing with a sudden flare of his instincts knowing he should eat first.

That they should eat first once that hunger reaches his eyes, darker than ever, more fire consuming them in response as if showing he's very close already to being pushed over the edge from how his brain for a moment near forgets about the food he made. He's trying to not bend so early yet gods, that just made it harder knowing the wait was more torturous on him.

It's taking more than he thought he had to resist the urge to just pull her close and give her a kiss of his own in response to match that heat she gave him. If she was paying attention she'd likely notice the difficulties he's having too in resisting now completely.

That torture is going to obliterate his willpower.

Or to be more specific, it is already whenever he's at a point that the urge is there so intensely it's going to be a wonder if he can hold back fully. If not enough to at least give her the chance to finish eating first in exchange.)

... it's going to be a hard wait.

(And he'll be lucky to not ruin her dress.)

[ His words are received with a slow smile, something that could almost be sweet if not for the dark, glazed-over look in her eyes as she watches him, or the way she bites her plush lower lip before tracing her tongue over it, a deliberate motion for his benefit, meant in design to inspire further frustration.

How easy, that wicked part of her wonders, will it be to break a man who has gone without for three weeks? A man who is sitting across from her now with a dangerous darkness in his own eyes: a smoldering flame ready to burst to life, to burn and take and consume? She shifts in her seat, biting back a soft sound that springs unbidden to her lips as a particularly strong pulse of pleasure strikes between her legs at the thought, and it's with trembling fingers that she picks up her cutlery once more, returning to the meal.

Her eyes remain on his face the whole time.

(It makes for a hell of a time cutting, but it's worth it. That face...) ]

For me too, in case you couldn't tell. [ There's a pause before she continues, a hesitation— she knows what she wants to say, but as with him, her experience is limited, and she worries the words will come out strange or awkward. Determination carries her through, though, even as the blood rushes up her cheeks, as her voice comes out in a husky murmur: ] With how wet they are, I may as well have bathed in my undergarments.

[ ...Okay, so it's a little awkwardly phrased, but the spirit is there. ]

(Another flare up.

It's evident that he's just barely holding himself back but with the way that smoldering flame seems to be near igniting, fingers clenching tightly with him noticing his heat is at a level beyond his usual with this. Likely from the weeks of frustration but taking his eyes off her near feels impossible with him attempting to not act just yet being tested not only by the way she just made a show of licking her lips, but her words given in response.

His imagination flaring is making this worse too knowing that he's quite literally feeling as if he's on fire. All she has to do is push one more time by the look in his eyes and he'll break apart so easily from the frustration, from how much he wants her even as he tries to remind himself that they should finish eating in futility. There's not a chance they will at this rate.

Not with the way he's looking at her, having to completely concentrate instead of talking since he can't rip his eyes away long enough for anything else now in the way he's close to putting her against the table like this nearly or close to dragging her into his lap. His mind hasn't made a decision yet there but it's likely going to be his lap.)

... gods. (Though he says it more to himself, his tone betrays him in his hunger, his fire filled hunger that so badly wants to flood him through the restraint he's just barely holding against her. He's going to wind up doing something that dangerous knowing that with his heat the way it is, that it will be a miracle if he doesn't burn her.

... even if he doubts she'd mind that.)

[ ...They're not going to finish their dinner, are they.

It's a realization that strikes her the moment she sees the way his eyes hone in on her, the way she feels his heat spike despite the distance between them, and Eula swallows against the dryness in her mouth, such contrast to the wet heat between her legs. The single word murmured under his breath does little to help her, a shudder dancing down her spine at the thought that even her awkwardly honest words could affect him in such a way. It's a visceral thing, visible in the way her fingers shake once more, this time enough to drop her fork she's holding, the clatter of metal against ceramic echoing loudly in the too-quiet room.

She played too close to the flame this time.

Eula takes a breath, her eyes closing for a moment— as if somehow she can steady herself against the tide of her desire. And this time, the brush of her tongue over her lip is absent at best, far from the deliberate display of just moments ago. Where she was teasing, she's now too caught up in it, struggling to focus on anything that isn't him... ]

The food... [ It's a helpless murmur as her eyes open again, a desperate grasp toward the internal promise she made herself even before she knocked at his door. They're meant to finish eating before they fall into each other— ] You worked so hard on it, Diluc.

[ As if it will somehow help the situation— liquid resilience, perhaps?— Eula reaches for her wine glass and tips the rest of the liquid into her mouth. ]

(Controlling himself is so difficult, so much more harder knowing that they were both wanting. She didn't just play too close to his flame but she managed to make it grow more with how much longer he himself had to abstain from touching her as much as he wanted to. This thought was driving him insane too, that aching want that wants to surround the two of them with him knowing she can just as easily reach over to grab his tie once he absentmindedly pops another Samosa into his mouth since his own part of the meal wasn't too far from finished.

He's trying to wait so that she can finish if anything.

It's obvious that's what he's trying to do knowing were he to wait any longer than that his patience is going to run out before he can remotely get anywhere near done on anything else with her. He can do that much knowing his struggle, knowing that between the two of them it's so very apparent that they're not going to get through the rest of the meal.

Knowing that if he drinks the rest of his wine, he'd be unable to stop himself from cracking entirely, he's abstaining from that too with how much the alcohol is pushing him toward caving as well. It seems this taught him another thing ironically. That he's prone to being hormonal like her by far more than his usual while under the influence, or rather, it's something she gets personally whereas others don't get to see it.

Others would only get to see him clingy and sleepy in contrast, she gets despite his best efforts from that torturous three weeks hormonal and clingy instead. Maybe it's a good thing he refuses to drink in public then.)

... I know. (Her words barely register, trying to keep himself together a little longer right as his eyes settle on her lips. The desires still there to take and to let this flame consume them but he has to force it down for now.)

[ His restraint is good— better than hers at least, and perhaps that's visible in the way Eula writhes on the chair when he places another samosa between his lips, rubs her thighs together because gods damn it, she's in trouble when even the thought of him chewing his food is enough to send fresh sparkles of pleasure between her legs. His eyes are on her mouth, and this time it's not even out of teasing but necessity that she wets her lips with a dart of her tongue, her shaking fingers going back to the fork she let clatter to the table just moments before.

Archons, she wants him, she wants him to show her what he can do with that mouth, wants him to take her in his lap or against the table or against the wall or anywhere, wants him to take her to pieces with his flame before putting her back again... and then burning her down once more. She wants so desperately that it's hard to focus, that the need of it is growing louder than the single thought reminding her that he made this food for her, that she should enjoy it properly—

—oh but isn't he just as eager as she? She can see it in the burn of his eyes, how hard it is for him to wait, how much he needs her.

Eula's fingers falter over the silverware, letting it fall back to the tabletop, although she stops short of grabbing him by the tie again; instead, her eyes lift to meet his, breath ghosting short over her own lips. ]

...Can it be reheated without losing too much of its flavor?

... I think so.

(Burning, he's burning and he can feel it eating at him more, more and more as the feeling of his body aches in a desire to burn them both into pieces. Burn away everything, their thoughts, their bodies, their hearts with him trying so very hard to not bend in the fact he needs so desperately her. Her touch, her lips, their bodies melting after this long wait that they both had to suffer through whenever he wanted more of her to the point he considers it a feat he didn't break earlier.

With the way he spoke it's far too late for them to stop. His need and his desperate want of the person who almost feels as if she completes him more than he would have once known before is so strong. Even if he can't reheat the food with it retaining it's flavor he'll consider it enough of a success that she enjoyed it down to the Samosa's since he did want to show off for a change.

Before they broke apart like this into pieces since he's withholding just a little longer, he's so very close to her and the alcohol making him looser isn't helping much either with the urge he has to just lean in and break apart the remaining wall.

That is until he gives up on holding back with the intensity of his need hitting strongly enough that aching fire in him that needed her grew so loud that he could no longer find his restraint as capable of holding himself back. In that moment he cracks, he leans in and kisses her, hard at that yet so filled with fire it's likely going to be a wonder he's not breathing it.)

[ He thinks so. That's enough, as far as she's concerned, for her to make a move, to enjoy him now and think about eating again later, and it's with that decision that Eula pushes the silverware aside, abandoning it completely in favor of turning fully into him— Only to find her mouth captured by his, the weight of his body leaning in against hers, a sudden flame writing itself over her lips and everywhere else he touches.

(She must remember later to tell him once more how delicious the food is, that turning away from it isn't a commentary on its taste but more how desperate she is for him—)

Eula's reaction is instantaneous: she makes a soft sound of pleasure as her eyes sink shut, lips parting as she returns the kiss; and her fingers coil, one around his tie and the other into his dress shirt, tugging him closer as she shifts until she's half-off her chair. She can taste the alcohol on his lips, feel the beat of his heart under his chest, hammering in a rhythm similar to hers. And she wants to talk, tell him that she's missed him, needed him, but her mouth is too occupied with showing him, with answering the ache coursing through both of their bodies. ]

Where?

[ In the end, this single word is the most she can handle, gasped out between his mouth and hers, even as her fingers tighten into the fabric of his clothing.c ]

... could we even make it to my bed? (Good question is something that is hitting him, really he didn't care where they were as much as he had thoughts of taking her in his lap like this. Her pulling him close like this isn't helping either with his thoughts, through a mutual feeling of how much he missed her, had in fact needed her so badly that it was destroying him. If she says they couldn't then his option B is going to be the chair like this or against the wall on the way there.

Archons, even against his bedroom door is fine by him as long as it's her. The alcohol on her lips gives him a further sensation of feeling inebriated too. He's already against her in all the right ways by now and knows good and well she can feel how ready he is. The food comment can wait more though he knows she can easily drag him by his tie wherever she pleases given there's not a single complaint about it on his mind.

Just an urge to have her and to give her wordlessly those feelings again that were so strongly burning.

Even that didn't feel like enough, it never would feel like enough whether it be by words or their bodies. It's enough to make him wonder if this was how his father once felt with his mother but that's not a thought for this moment, he didn't need to be thinking more of that when she needs him most. That's something for when their want, their need is sated.)

I don't think I care much... where we wind up at. (Murmuring the words into their kiss, her lips aside, he found it best to voice that while he still could knowing he's so close to breaking still.)

...Probably not. [ It's about all she can manage, that acknowledgement... but at the same time she doesn't want their first time in three weeks to be in a kitchen chair of all places, regardless of how well-built it might be. And so she tears herself away from his lips, taking advantage of her body being halfway between two chairs in order to stand up and pulling him with her, her eyes dark and her body already trembling with her desire. ] But we can try.

[ Her fingers untangle, a hand finding his instead to pull him with her in a somewhat less-aggressive manner; she knows the way already to the bedroom, so that's no problem, but actually getting there might be, with every step feeling more and more difficult given the burning heat just barely behind her, wanting her as much as she wants him.

She makes it as far as the bedroom door— a valiant effort but not good enough— before turning back to him and grabbing his shirt and tie again to pull him bodily into her, backing herself into the wall next to the door and gasping aloud when his body collides with hers. Of course, she had no idea he himself was considering the wall, but right now it seems like a good enough place, especially as she rocks her hips up against him, knowing by touch alone how ready he is for her. ]

Here. [ It's gasped against his lips, her body arching up against his once more and her breath hot and panted into his mouth. ] We can.. mm, we can move after.

(It's the thought that counts. Since not even he was wanting to use a kitchen chair knowing that he's at a point that if they wound up breaking it and on the floor he'd have rather them not there. So trying to reach the bed and winding up against the wall, door, wherever? That's fine as a trade off once he gets pulled into following her though the heat leaving him is worsening with each step; that craving he has growing and his eyes darkening further with his own hunger.

Barely restrained heat, intense want and need that's flaring so badly once she takes hold of his tie, his dress shirt again and dragging him up against her. Their hips were rocking together now, his arousal throbbing at this point with an ache he didn't think possible. That heat he felt was at a point the fire in him finds itself seeking her so desperately once he kisses her hard again, so very hard and fire filled.

He didn't know where to start, it already felt as if his hips were mindlessly following her rhythm knowing how much he's wanted this with her. It's hard to think, hard to pull away, hard to get his hands to do anything but taking hold of her thighs to get his belt undone and trousers down just enough for this. Gods he can't believe he's lost himself this much already.)

Can't... stop... (The words though breathlessly gasped out in between kisses were husky, raw, wanting and hungry even. He'll try to move after like she suggested, right now this is overloading his senses already.)

[ This... oh gods, this is going to go somewhere faster than either of them is ready if they're not careful; with the way he's grabbing at her thighs to pull her closer, their hips rutting together as they kiss, with the way he gasps out that he can't bring himself to stop, it's only a matter of time before one or both of them tips over the edge— and they're still fully clothed, in nice clothes at that, and...

She tears herself from the kiss as well as she can with her back to the wall, needing some space to get clarity for her mind, and it's all she can do to unwind her fingers from his shirt and tie, dropping her hands between them instead. If he can't make himself stop, then it's up to her to keep her head enough to make this work, at least until she doesn't have to anymore. So she works quickly, fingers nimble as they unbuckle his belt and push his pants and underwear off his hips, then move to her own, hiking her gown up and her underwear— a sheer black thong— down.

It all happens in an instant, and only then do her hands go back to his shirt, pulling him back into a kiss now that she doesn't need the mental acuity to focus anymore, her mouth working hard against his and her leg arching up to coil around one of his. ]

There. [ It's a breathless moan against his mouth, another rut of her hips against his as she allows herself to sink back into the mindlessness of her need and want for him. ] Now you don't have to.

(As hazed as his mind is, he does find himself in that time apart looking curiously about what she wore this time once he spots the black thong she had on beneath the dress. His hips rutting did pause enough to make this easier but gods that was harder than he'd like to admit to do.) ... thong this time? (He can get out that much after some thought. Compliments might be a little too far-fetched but he can try that maybe a little even if his arousal is making this harder. It being freed just adds on to it given the ache is much more noticeable.

Diluc himself is by no means amazing at 'dirty talk', as he's realized before that's more Kaeya's show. Yet it isn't as if he can't help the imagery in his mind of her in them. Honestly that flame that's been ignited seems pleased at the thought by how his eyes look since he doesn't have the mental capacity to speak out everything as much as he'd like.

Maybe he even would tried but the thought goes back out the window once her mouth is back on his, thinking going out the window with his own lips back at it hard with hers once one of his hands finds it's way on the leg she coils around him. With their hips rutting together, almost mindlessly, he shouldn't keep her waiting too long anyway.

Length in his other hand, he soon enough lines up with her core and pushes onward, to the hilt and deep. There's almost a sigh of relief in their kiss from his part from how much he needed her in that time frame, even with his mind being in a haze to a degree he manages to mutter against her lips:) ... I really did miss you. (Not just the physical part, but in general is what's unsaid there knowing words are hard.)

[ There's a slight smile on her lips at his comment, a temptation to explain the undergarment now wrapped around her thighs, but the press of his length into her core leaves her gasping out instead, eyes fluttering closed as her fingers tighten in the material of his clothing, as her hips stutter in a helpless movement against his. Oh, by the gods has she needed this...

How much she's changed, Eula realizes, when the joining of their bodies feels like she's come home, an answer to all that she's been missing over the past few weeks. It's more than that with him of course, more than just the physical, but like this it feels like a culmination of everything, of their feelings and desires and—

Gods, there's no denying it any longer, is there? Eula Lawrence has gone from a soldier who relies on no one— who trusts no one— to a woman whose feelings are deep in the heart of the man whose body is connected to hers right now.

She's in love.

She loves him. ]

Me too. [ It's a breathless murmur against his mouth, an answer to his words and also a substitute for what she truthfully wants to say, hips arching into his as she deepens their kiss, as one hand slips from his shirt to wind around his shoulders, pulling him in as close as she can without crushing him. Right now, she doesn't want to be apart. ]

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