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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[ There's a moment of silence, Eula mulling over his words even as they rest there for a moment between kisses, even as he caresses her cheek softly in his hand, and her eyes close against the touch, listening. Push him down, stay like this, kiss him— don't hold it in, he says, and she knows he's right, knows she has to get out of her own head... ]

Then lie down.

[ It's said softly, a gentleness to her tone as her fingers splay across his chest, a slight push of weight behind them. She waits, allowing him to get comfortable as he needs, letting him adjust his weight in a way that he won't be hurt just by lying down.

Only then does she follow him, moving to lie against him without putting her weight on him, lying at his side with her head turned into him, eyes closed as she breathes him in—

—and this close he still smells like blood, like the sickly sweet of the medicines used on his skin, and all at once there's a horrific feeling like she's going to be sick; she even turns her head away, swallowing hard against the rising gorge in an attempt to calm it, nails digging into her palms and eyes squeezing shut.

It lasts for several seconds, this abrupt attack of something, something Eula doesn't even understand, and then she bursts into silent tears once more, head hiding in the side of his chest as the tears cascade fresh down her cheeks. ]

(As she wanted, he does in fact lay back and shift about to make certain that his back will be fine as long as he doesn't move too abruptly. He's careful about it and the way he's moving with his arm comfortably going around her once she lays against him. Diluc almost wanted to apologize knowing his scent won't be there as normally would be; replaced by the rustic smell of blood and everything. Sweat likely as well from his attempt at running, possibly even dirt.

If anything he finds it better he doesn't smell like the Abyss or else this wouldn't have gone well. At least for a moment such as this.

There's a brief moment he worries this was the wrong move with wanting her to do what she feels she must to not hold it in, that is until he feels her tears against him. Maybe it's why for this moment of silence between them his lips brush against her crown, her hair as carefully as he can to not cause her to scold him for being stupid again knowing he has to watch it.

So he chooses to keep her close and to take her own scent in as if to remind himself that he's not dead or dying. He's not leaving her. The thoughts which slowly began to ease but he knew that he simply wants to not see her destroy herself by letting her stay so deep in her head it'd do little good.

He doesn't try to give words to this emotion between them, but he's certain that it's deeper than they know or realize. Diluc can only say he'll think more of it later, he doesn't want to focus on that when she needs him more.)

[ At the very least, she's grateful that when it comes to moving, Diluc seems to be trying to be careful. After all, with the injuries being bad enough to knock him out for several hours, she's sure that all it will take to re-open them is a small move— maybe that means she's worrying more than she should, but she can't quite help herself.

Not that she's really focusing on the worry right now. What's on her mind is rather a flurry of things, thoughts she's not sure she could successfully explain even if given a thousand words and pictures to go with them; there's a lot, and they're uncomfortable, leave her feeling sick and like she wants to just cry and scream and break things until there's nothing left to break.

The lips on her crown, though, they're somehow soothing— and there's a hot flush of shame that runs through her in the very next moment, temporarily displacing the other thoughts even as the tears keep running down her cheeks, the sobs continue to catch in her throat.

When she speaks, her voice is rough, thick with the tears and broken as her lungs attempt to force sobs of quick breath, movements she herself tries to prevent. ]

I'm— I'm sorry. You're the one who's hurt, you shouldn't have to... I shouldn't be like this.

[ Never mind that it's because of him, is another thought deep within the maelstrom of her mind, whispering things she's not yet ready to know. ]

... you do have a right to be you know. (He did almost gain more injuries after all if he hadn't thought quickly enough to avoid that strike that was coming for him after noticing that something was very off. He can't help but keep her close so that she didn't feel she has to hide it; to let her let it out with him taking care in holding her. In really how he's trying to just remind her that he didn't want this bottled up knowing that it'd be more worse on her if she did.

He's not stopping her from crying. He's really not stopping her from simply just letting herself go for now in whatever method she needs. It's why he finds himself just for the time being idly contemplating how to go about this; certain things can be worse on him knowing that the mid section of his back was hit the way it had been.)

And I did say that you can do anything to let it out... since that's what I want. (Maybe it's too soon for how soft his tone gets, maybe it's much more too soon in how he's looking at her with his injuries being an afterthought now upon letting his lips brush against her crown again for the time being. If she wants to kiss him more then he'll let her do that even if it meant he came out with kiss swollen lips and near forgetting that there's a time and place.

He only has to hold strong this time because she wouldn't want to have more on her. His back reopening it's stitches being the main part of it.)

... maybe it's too bold to say but I was more worried about getting back to you in one piece at the time. By the time I managed to get away, I was stumbling for hours and kept thinking 'if I fall, Eula would drag me out from wherever I end up at while proclaiming vengeance under her breath and obscenities about it'.

(Even if it meant chasing him into the Abyss is what he thinks might happen which was another reason why he drove himself onward. Were she to do that then there would be no chance for the two of them to return to how they were knowing how the Abyss taints those who enter and seeps into them.)

Edited 2023-01-10 15:11 (UTC)

[ A right? She can hardly think of it that way, not when he's in so much of a worse situation than she is and yet holding himself together in what seems to be an infinitely better way. (Of course, he's had a lot more practice with this kind of thing than he has, logic tells her, but that's not enough to make the strange sick feeling leave, is it?) Not to mention that this is a vengeance he's been chasing for longer than they've been close— practically for longer than they've known one another at all— how can it possibly be okay for her to feel this way about it?

Or, she wonders somewhat helplessly, is this just her brain's way of trying to push her back from what she knows are feelings too deep for him, something deeper than just worry, something deeper than the "like" by which she defines it— even if it makes no logical sense for her to feel this way.

Nonetheless, the tears keep flowing even as she tries to make them stop, even as she finds a hint of laughter on her lips at his statement, a slight shake of her head the answer to his unspoken question: no, it's not too bold of him. ]

I would have. [ Her voice when she speaks is thick, wet with the emotion clogging her throat. Is it strange, then, that there's a strange little part of her joyful that it was with that thought that he continued on? That even if it was out of nothing else but fear of her vengeance, it was the thought of her that pushed him forward, kept him going.

She presses a small, chaste kiss against whatever part of him she's fallen against in her emotional frenzy— she's not exactly sure whether his chest or neck or shoulders, only that he can reach her crown with his own kisses— and breathes a slow breath in through her nose, trying to calm herself even as the waves of emotion threaten to crash over her again. ]

I would have killed the bastard that hurt you first... and then you for giving up before making it back to me.

(There is something that he thinks he can come to the conclusion of involving his thoughts attempting to deter him from further following what would make him human again. What would make him be a person instead of the broken shell of a man pretending that he's fine, that he'll survive, and that he'll quite truthfully be capable of living even as his body gets further destroyed the more he pushes. The more he found himself driving his heart away with each passing day before. Diluc survived recklessly until this moment where he told her the small truth of his thoughts. Something he's certain many would be shocked by, really that many would be horrified by that someone like him sought to near destroy himself in such ways yet now it's not the case.

Maybe something underlying his feelings that went beyond like, something deeper, something he wants to say so badly but finds the words failing him on this tongue just as he idly wonders how to tell her eventually. A thing that even he can find scary but is choosing to hold strong for her sake due to not wanting her afraid more than she may perhaps be.

The conclusion he came to near makes him wonder what the Archons are doing more to him. If it's beyond like, beyond something like hate, there's only one thing. Love. He's in love. With heartstrings plucked about the feeling as if daring to believe he can deserve such a notion, logic would say he stops this before it develops further but that is far too late for him. No. Stopping this was impossible from the start is what he thinks now, what Diluc believes whenever he gathers his thoughts enough to direct away from his inner voices telling him to not give her his heart.)

... maybe if this was like one of Jean's romance novels this would be the part I confess something deeper. Though I'd hate to be that cliché telling you. (Maybe he can admit that much despite throwing his childhood friend under the bus with her like of such tales though unintentionally. As well as unintentionally giving her ammo against the Acting Grandmaster without thinking about it briefly.) Though I could if you want me to. At least about some of the things I realized. (Maybe a hint to the conclusion he came to but he won't fully tell her that he thinks perhaps he fell in love with her until she's ready.

She deserves a chance for it to be more appropriate, a time for it to be where they're both able to be simply themselves instead of what they make themselves into. A time where she's not emotionally wanting to fall apart as he lays there holding strong for her heart to not crumble more with her kisses against the space between his nape and shoulder.)

I also don't doubt that... as part of what I said I realized, I wanted to see you. (This isn't easy to say, by his tone, shaky but firm even as he looks at her but it's the biggest part of what he wanted to say.)

Edited 2023-01-14 16:14 (UTC)

[ She's deep within her own thoughts still when the softness of his voice reaches her, and Eula's eyes widen, the strange heaviness settling on her chest enough to temporarily still her tears, to stifle the strange thickness in her throat. To the contrary, her throat and mouth and lips suddenly feel too dry. If this was like a romance novel...

And perhaps there's something to be thought about here, about the admission of what should by rights be a secret of Jean's— the Acting Grand Master reads romance novels, apparently— but it's drowned in the ~~sea~~ dry desert sands of overwhelming confusion, and she's left to blink into the space between his neck and shoulder— without actually realizing that that's where she is.

Confess something deeper.

Does he mean what she thinks he means, does he mean the same strange feeling that swirls in her gut when she hears him speak, when she worries for him, when... when everything— even if it's too soon for that, not just for her but for him too surely, for both of them it's too soon— even if her feelings are the same, even if she knows it by the way she smiles thinking of him, the way she dreams of him when she sleeps, the way her heart beats faster in her chest at his smile—

It's too soon, far too soon, just the thought has her pulse seizing into an anxious, thumping rhythm; and yet at the same time there's a strange kind of sickly sweet hope welling in her breast, and all of a sudden Eula feels like she's about to pass out.

Her fingers clench into fists against his chest, nails digging shining red crescents into the palms of her hands.

When she speaks, her voice sounds like dust. ]

Sounds like I know what to get the Acting Grand Master for her next birthday.

... Eula, I'm not going to also say it yet, what you believe might be coming. (Because he didn't want to say it now. She deserves it to be something better than this, something that will give her more time to relax with and even then... he didn't want to tell her right now he loves her. It might be better to say that he'll save it for her despite knowing how strong it is.) I... think we both deserve it to be at least not after we're both a mess, something more appropriate, not planned but natural. Even if it's obvious... (Because the thought of 'planning' to say it didn't really sit right with him. It should be a natural occurrence. Something that just flows from them not something given thought to and figured out step by step.

As much as he considered saying it now, he knows by now just how her mind can work once he finds himself also taking the opportunity to just settle his arm around her so that she could be more comfortable in the event that she did bury more into him knowing circumstances were different at the moment between them.)

... if she asks, please tell her Kaeya told you. (Just to spare himself a rather flustered Jean giving a look of betrayal knowing that he accidentally gave away one of her secrets to Eula. He half wonders what she might do with the knowledge if her attention first was to give Jean a birthday gift of it; was that really all? He near thought she might terrorize her more with the knowledge based off this.

Though that does count as terrorizing Jean to begin with. She never told anyone, only Diluc and Kaeya knew from growing up with her. Barbara likely knew but that was another story in itself given the sisters were having to mend a rift of their own. A thought he pushes to the side for deciding to give Eula his full attention again given that he did cause her to have another crisis in a short time period.)

... the birthday gift aside, I think I'm more sorry for not realizing something was wrong until after the Hydro Lector found me.

(The sound of it taunting him is going to irritate him for a good while by the small flare of his heat but he's not going to let it interrupt his recovery.)

[ Whatever she believes...

For a moment, there's a rejection, a push of that sick feeling against her heart, and Eula swallows hard, her eyes closed. She trusts him, so there's no need for it, but her heart and her mind work together to force it anyway, a strange anxiety that maybe she feels more than he does, that maybe she's let herself fall for someone who doesn't feel that way in return, that maybe what she believes is not what he was going to say at all—

(But wouldn't that be good? Wasn't her whole internal argument that this whole thing was too much, too soon?)

She swallows it back, licking her too-dry lips and pressing in closer, trying to just focus on him, not on what might be, or what she wants or doesn't want it to be. A smile finds its way to her lips, something a little too forced for her own liking, but as good as she can get right now. ]

Deal. It will be step one of our vengeance against him.

[ She's attempting humor, although she's not sure how funny she sounds right now, with her voice somewhere between too wet and too dry, a weakness in it that she hates, a misery that leaks through that threatens to lay her bare no matter how hard she fights against it.

Of course, it doesn't help that part of that misery comes from seeing him like this in the first place—

Her feelings are far too complicated right now.

She feels the flare of his heat and tilts her head, eventually pulling back to look up at him, knowing that he'll see the mess that her face no doubt is right now, but suddenly finding it difficult to be worried about that. As long as she can keep even some of the feelings in her head, it's a good start— the drawn expression can be explained as worry, concern over his state. ]

You were focused, no doubt. And Lectors are known for being... well, they can be incredibly sneaky when they want to be. That's something you don't have to feel sorry for, Diluc.

(No, he knew that he said something wrong. He thought it too soon as well, there's something that causes him to just finally crack maybe to a degree more than he'd have liked there first. Her forced smile, her change of demeanor sounding miserable. Though wordlessly he just once she speaks further takes a moment to remind himself to not push further than his body can handle before that feeling overtakes his heat and his eyes.) Take your revenge on me later... (Because he didn't want her to do it now if she felt it too soon still, to say it now if she felt not ready knowing they haven't even been together that long. He isn't sure what came over him but the logical part of him seems to have shutdown fully in the way it attempted at first to stop him.

That silence he's taking as enough of a good thing once he with care kisses her, perhaps too hard for his recovery, too hard for his own liking knowing that she was worried enough about him but the underlying emotion that fuels it is something stronger. Something burning, something engulfing, the feeling he sought to wait to tell her about pouring into it with a more quiet attempt of telling her to not let her feel this miserable.

In silence he says three single words in this case, those three lovely yet terrifying words being, I love you.

He may want to say it aloud but he didn't want her to feel conflicted more than she is right now; so perhaps for now a silent confession of his heart can be enough to break this misery that her own thoughts was casting on her. To tell her something of the truth with him eventually pulling away yet not too far, his lips still near hers with restraint barely holding firm after pouring this into it.

She's in his dreams, his thoughts, Gods he could even imagine her voice when they're apart due to their work and yet it did nothing more than make him wish to be further at her side. To not just hear it but to take in her scent, her laugh, and that smile she gets around him. The way she looks at him even.

He only knows if they push further that he has no intention of stopping her from letting her own heart out wordlessly like he just did.

The only time he would being if his back starts to feel as if the stitches were ripping apart though there's no chance they both might succumb is there? Though maybe he might be giving them both a bit too much credit with how hopeless they could be from remembering the two days after they came to terms with how much they wanted one another.

He'll only hope that neither of them get too lost again, just like before.)

[ Revenge? Gods, is he even listening? She just told him that he shouldn't feel sorry for not noticing the Lector sneaking up on him... For as much vengeance as she's decided to take upon him for today, that isn't part of it, and yet his response to her is to tell her to take her revenge later. Her brows furrow as she looks up at him, shaking her head. ]

Didn't I just say—

[ He cuts her off with the press of his mouth to hers— despite herself, she squeaks, surprised by the sudden heat and pressure of it; she should scold him, she knows this, but instead her lips part to his, a dizzied whimper on her tongue as for a single moment she lets him take and give what he needs. There's something in it, something she can sense even if he says nothing— it sends tremors down her spine and through the whole of her, leaving her feeling like jelly just from this.

Of course, she has no way of knowing the meaning of the unspoken words buried deep within the kiss. But if she did— with his mouth on hers like this, the protests are gone, forgotten in the depth of her own feelings. Like this, it would be so easy to answer him, to tell him those same three words in reply, words that she knows deep down in her heart but can't even bring herself in most thoughts to admit to herself, let alone him.

Like this, all those doubts and fears are gone.

When he breaks the kiss, his mouth remaining close to hers, she finds herself panting a little, breathless despite how short the moment was— it was intense enough that she forgot to breathe, almost forgets to again even now that they're separate, and her eyes remain shut for several long moments as she gets herself back under control. ]

That...

[ She curses her voice, husky and shaken as it is. ]

What was that for?

[ Not that she's complaining. Not really. Only at what it does to her when he kisses her like that. ]

(Breathe Diluc. The intensity he gave was near enough to make him dizzy in a similar fashion to whenever they were in Dragonspine, beyond that perhaps, dizzy with something he'd wordlessly tell her until she can say it herself. Temptation might be there to keep giving her this intensified flame but she wouldn't be too pleased, would she? The answer is an obvious yes or that had been what he thought once he takes the chance to gather his thoughts back up to her question.

Her voice isn't helping either in the way it sounds husky but he's forcing down any manner of temptation from rising still. His restraint for once isn't bending completely.) ... a wordless admission to what I wanted to say. (Letting her feel the intensity of it was not something he thought he'd do this soon but he did in fact give her that engulfing flame of his in it. A flame he knows and only she'd know now.

If it wasn't for his back, he'd do it again, he wants to do it again with the floodgate it opened in him tonight. But he shouldn't, even if he wants to forget this happened to him, even if he wants to tell her without speaking it just more beyond that single kiss. The internal arguing is annoying him because Gods above, he knows what he wants her to have and he knows what he wants so why can't it just be silent even now as those voices start to berate him.

Focus. Focus Diluc, he didn't need to let his heat flare past what he gave her and so far it's working to keep it down. He just has to remember that she's still there, that he shouldn't listen to anything his logical side is trying to argue with him about even if right now it's harder.)

... saying it like this felt more right to me than just letting you think I didn't feel the same.

(He's considering it lucky his mid-back wasn't deciding to rear its ugly head in after he did this.

That isn't something else they need if he's going 'say' more.)

And it's harder than you think to not 'say' all of it so suddenly.

[ Her jaw slackens a little, her eyes widening as she looks at him in silence, as her brain slowly processes his words, as the gorge of panic attempts to rise in her throat and she shuts it down; instead she lifts one hand to his chest, pressing it gently over his heart, and she swallows hard as she nods.

He knows, she thinks, and that's terrifying— and yet she would give anything to be able to confirm it in her own mind, even just for herself so that she can someday find the courage to say it to him. He deserves that much, doesn't he? And just a moment ago she was so sure she'd be able to—

Sometimes she feels so Archons-damned weak.

It's with a small, anxious smile that her other hand comes up to his cheek, cupping it in her fingers as she closes the small gap between their lips, the touch of hers chaste and sweet in comparison to the heat still lingering at the corners of her mouth. ]

I... I know, I...

[ By the Gods, she is bad at this. When she pulls back, her eyes dart away, an inability to look at him that she hasn't suffered from now for the better part of the last few weeks... yet right now, stronger than anything else. Another swallow, her eyes blinking at tears that seem to be brimming once more on the surface. Why is it that now he's seen her cry, she feels like she can't stop? ]

I'm sorry. [ It's a whisper. ] Every part of me is fighting right now.

[ Of course, if she stopped to think about it, she would realize that this on its own is a kind of confession, an admission that her brain and heart are fighting each other on it, that the fear and the feeling are at a war over the knowledge that she—

She. ]

(It isn't as if he didn't feel the same way, inwardly fighting against himself, inwardly attempting to push down thoughts and desires that wish to stop him from giving what he so rightfully desired to all to her. Hopeless. He feels hopeless even now once he kisses her back for another brief moment before she pulls away for the time being.

His heart pounds so fast which she must have felt in that time she presses her hand over his chest. He's trying to muster up more than just a wordless confession by kiss whenever she admits every part of her is fighting too; it's enough to cause him for a second time perhaps warrant another moment of retribution she would likely take later.)

... every part of me is fighting too, half calling me foolish, another half just wanting to melt, a third saying I shouldn't while recovering and yet I... (He again falls first, another moment of his lips seeking hers, another moment of the intensity of his heart's flame flooding into him past what could have been his mind arguing with him.

To confess something like this. To be weak... to be vulnerable and to open his fire filled heart into this moment; he had to give her it with thoughts of what could happen if he dares to not lingering with him just knowing this feeling will only deepen further. Further past what it is now, further in how it engulfs him and seeks her like it's found a miss piece he didn't know he was missing.

So he lets out all of it.

Heat. Unbearable but not in the way it was during his arousal, this heat is different in the way it seeks her through his resonance flaring with him forcing it to at least not set anything on fire.

That's the last thing that they need whenever they're in a bigger mess and falling faster than he'd ever have realized before.)

[ Her head is swimming. Everything he says is swallowed in the next moment by his heated kiss, the feeling sending shocks of pleasure down her body— and there's arousal there, of course there is, how could there not be when he's kissing her like this— but it's mostly something else, mostly a burning heat that she feels scalding the bottom edges of the wall, seeking a way through, winning out even as her ice tries frantically to rebuild itself against the assault.

Archons be good—

Her fingers clench, a fist balling against his chest where she'd otherwise grab a hold of clothing, a soft gasp against his lips as she returns the kiss, and the fingers at his cheek move up into his hair, fingers running gentle along the scalp, an inch of movement for every too-fast beat of her heart.

—She loves him.

It's all she can do not deepen the kiss— after all he's still recovering and the last thing she wants is for him to be hurt worse. But the temptation is there, especially when the ice is screaming, trying to claw precious ground back against the scalding heat of his body, the heat slowly turning Eula into soft, flowing water. ]

Diluc, I—

[ Oh, but this is dangerous.

She bites the words back from the tip of her tongue, pressing back into the kiss, turning herself over into it even as the tremors run through her body. It's too soon for the words, the ice reminds her, it's the wrong time, and even in her heart she knows that to be true, but she wants so much—

Just like that, he's taken her apart again. ]

(She's not the only one trying to remember to behave, his own arousal still lingers but it's something he's trying to not let overtake his common sense even if Kaeya likely would have been telling them both to just talk with their bodies despite his injury if words are going to fail them with how much Diluc is struggling. How much Eula is even struggling, it's a struggle to resist.

At this rate he wanted to pull her on top of him knowing he can't move much without the risk of injury being worsened. He finds himself struggling more to not put his scarred hands on her bare back again like he's done before; tremors that they both share with their own hearts pounding.

He loves her and that's what frightens him.

Diluc didn't even think he'd fall in love but he did, he fell in love with her as this unbearable heat demands he finally melts into her instead of ignoring it.

It's when he finds himself trying to pay attention to what she might wish to say only for that to go out the window whenever her lips are back against his. Falling apart and falling away from what logic his mind tries so desperately to bring back, telling him to stop chasing this so willingly and yet he ignores it.

A mutual moment of her taking him apart too in the end once he finds himself unable to resist his arms going around her fully with temptation cracking more into his restraint further.

This isn't the right time, he tries to tell himself, this is too soon which is what he should be remembering but it's all coming apart.

Gods above, at least spare him more internal arguing for his struggles in getting to this conclusion.)

[ Is it a good thing or bad that had he pulled her to be on top of him, she would have accepted with no protest at all— despite knowing of his current condition? Even if she's to be seated in his lap, the danger to his back is no small thing, and in this situation to be truly good would be to not even kiss him, to pull herself back from the sinfully tempting taste of his mouth and insist that he rest until he's better before they do anything even remotely physical— Yet she feels helpless, a slave to him in a way that would make the Eula from just a few weeks ago scoff.

In some ways, she barely recognizes herself.

And there's a part of her quick to surface that reminds her that this is a good thing, that the Eula of a few weeks ago was miserable and alone, trying to convince herself of a happiness on which she had long since given up. Perhaps that's why the last of her resistance cracks as his arms wind fully around her; and suddenly it's so easy for her to give in, to press into the heat of his kisses as a tremble runs down her spine, to skim fingers through his hair in a caress both tender and needy, to brush her tongue along his lower lip as if to seek more, all the while knowing they can't push too much further.

...Archons, they really can't... ]

Your injuries.

[ It's a soft, panted moan against his lips, a reminder to both of them that they shouldn't— mustn't— go further than this, despite the heat burning in both of them. ]

(Likely a bad thing knowing his back. Since he knows they shouldn't go further, that they shouldn't press onward into something completely physical, sinful in nature yet something that even he had tried to convince himself was a pleasure meant solely for Kaeya in his own antics; something that he couldn't dare dream of having for himself after he made the choices he did in the end. Really if Diluc were told at the start of the month that he was going to feel like a slave to Eula in addition to her own feelings toward him, he'd have told them that Mona does far better readings than that.

(... though if Mona herself said it he'd have thought she lost her mind but that's a different thing.)

But it's hard to recognize what parts of him were the man he shaped himself into being of his own volition to obtain his retribution; what parts of him were even that boy still he left far behind resurfacing now so heavily around her in the way it craves her. His lips were parted to her tongue as his mind tries to make him remember that they can't keep going even as he wishes to do so, with the way she's pressed up against him and further cracking his own resistance.

They shouldn't, they really shouldn't be...)

... I know.

(But it's her. It's her this heat wants even as that soft moan from her makes him shiver, even as he finds himself groaning from the intensity of it all. If he can't move then he would have taken her being in his lap; it's why he tries to keep resisting the urge but gods he's fighting a losing battle.

What has she done to him to cause him to teeter between a side he long thought dead and his current self so strongly...)

[ There's a regret in his voice that sends a shudder of pleasure down Eula's spine... not so much the regret itself, but the fact that it's evident in his voice tells her how much he wants this too—

And of course she knows that already, knows that he wants her, but something about him nearly dying and then coming back at admit-yet-not-admit a deepness of feelings that she knows terrifies him as much as it does her... there's something coiling in her stomach, that same thing that has her panting against his mouth, that has her needing to fight every last urge she has to just seat herself in his lap and take him into her. Such an action would be too much of a temptation for him to move, to rip the stitches open that the others have spent so much time and care over while she paced in the kitchen, anxious and unsure.

She sighs against his mouth; like him, the battle is a losing one, even as her brain reminds her again and again that this isn't good for him.

Eula's eyes are dark with want when she pulls away, moving herself out of his reach just enough that he can't pull her back. ] You should lie down, Ragnvindr. [ Her voice is still rough and husky, and she's trying to sound serious and stern but her tongue darts involuntarily over her lips, and for a moment she wonders if he can read her intent in her eyes or if he's clueless. ] Sitting up like this makes it easier for you to open your wounds again.

[ Her heart is going a thousand miles an hour in her chest even from something as simple as watching him; even knowing that she shouldn't right now, she wants. ]

(The way this flame makes him ache is unbearable even as he tries to make himself resist at first. This isn't easy to ignore, a craving this intense from realization and admitting to himself that he loves her only seemed to unlock in him further depth in feelings that he still wasn't sure if he could tell her with ease even now that he came to terms with it to a degree.

Fearful but he did seem to be taking it as best as he can despite himself once she pulls away; his urge to just grab her near flaring by how he has to force his arms to stop which she might on one hand be delighted by to a degree to see it.

Her voice... gods, he always might finding himself wanting to hear more of her whether it be these moments or not between them though him saying it out loud would not be something meant for the ears of others.

Though seeing her eyes and how she licks her lips causes him to catch on enough where he would have missed the intent. His own gaze dark with want at noticing how fixated she is on him and his every movement once he shifts about to lay down for her without a word or complaint. The staff had taken care of undressing him enough and he did this time have his hair down from once they finished; more she'd likely be delighted by he muses to himself with his own fire filled eyes fixated on her.

He's wondering what her plans even is, he wants her so badly that he's all but positive that had they both decided to hold off he would not be able to in the end. It's almost ironic. His brain and every logical part of him is reminding him too that he shouldn't be doing this yet he wants; he wants to tell her with his body how much he wanted to see her or maybe how much he does love her while the words were so frightening to say themselves.)

[ She does indeed notice the way his arms tense as if to move toward her, along with realizing for the first time that his hair is down around his shoulders, a fact which escaped her in her earlier distress, and he's right in predicting that both things sit well with her; there's a hint of a smile that finds her lips in fact when the former occurs, even if she says nothing and tries instead to school her face back into that stoic expression. ]

You're not allowed to move. [ She says it in a soft voice, something gentler than before even as she tries to keep her tone stern to match her face; as she speaks, she reaches out, not for his face or even for him but for his pants, undoing them before working deftly to pull them down over his hips, catching his underwear in the same grip to take that too—

And her eyes widen as he springs free of the confines, not just hard but what looks to be achingly so, hard in the sort of way that makes her mouth dry and a pulse of heat throb between her legs, brings a soft gasp of pleasure to her lips as she fights once more against the urge to simply lower herself onto him.

Instead, she moves herself closer to him at a different angle, shifting so that she can hunch over him, her breath ghosting over the leaking tip of his arousal, eyes flicking up to his face to take in his expression as she speaks one last time before otherwise occupying her mouth: ]

I mean it. One movement, I stop this.

[ And then she lowers her mouth over him, taking him deep in one movement, eyes shutting against the reflex in her throat as she takes a moment to adjust, tongue fluttering, mouth swallowing in the effort. ]

(No movements allowed from him... he can manage that, he thinks, he isn't so terrible at restraint contrary to right now factoring in given he did bite down the urge to grab her. The sternness of her tone even if she is trying to tell him to not even dare think about it is another thing he idly thinks is attractive. Maybe something every now and then to consider? Though saying that now is not going to be on the table.

As soon as his trousers and briefs were tugged down, there's a degree of relief across his expression mixed into his hunger and want for her. The relief being purely because being trapped like that often times made his arousal ache further; idle thoughts aside he did at least have more of an idea on how things might go now. Given their current positions and somehow he doubts they'll stop at just this.)

... won't move then. (He'll give her the biggest part of his trust then, his body trusted to her. An honor Diluc did not give a single soul before prior to her; injured or not he trusts her to not reopen anything during her time taking control knowing that he can't necessarily do much as of now.

Whenever she breathes against his length, he near grinds his teeth at the sensation of it all, at least before she took him deep. The moment she did he finds himself clenching his teeth from the pleasure, the quick change as he forces his hands to keep hold of his sheets to ease any urge to move he may get. It's a better trade than near burning her or moving with how little he can hold back in the former case.

The latter is at least not being difficult, thankfully, it likely will change as it progresses but that is something he'll think of later. Not whenever he's groaning, not whenever he can barely think beyond his want for her currently and awareness of his own body.)

[ His agreement not to move forms a smile on her lips, but she doesn't speak further— she can't, really, with him almost hilted in her mouth, lips stretched around him to a near-aching point, throat still struggling to relax against the sudden incursion she herself brought on. She feels the sheets shift as his fingers take hold of them, a sure sign that she's started this the right way, and that he is following the rules she has laid down for this encounter.

It's enough to send a fresh jolt of pleasure between her legs, leaving Eula writhing for a moment against herself before she starts to move against him, her throat finally having found a degree of comfort that allows her to move without making herself sick, and there's a slow, wet drag as she lifts herself against his length before lowering once more, tongue dancing and swirling over skin.

The taste of him is enough to send a low moan of pleasure through her— the sound no doubt causing vibrations against the skin and heightening the pleasure for him. And where she's made him promise not to move, it's a rule she doesn't actually have to follow for herself, and so after a moment she shifts, curling her body enough that she can reach between her own legs, palming over her core through the material of her bodysuit even as her motions over Diluc continue. Her hips arch in a way his aren't allowed to, and she responds by speeding her movements a little— not against herself, but against him, another low moan sounding on her lips as she takes him totally to the hilt, swallowing a gag before she lifts again with a sharp gasp.

She'll make him lose himself like this as many times as she needs to, as many times as it takes to show him what words won't say. ]

(This isn't the first time exactly they've done this, this really isn't, but gods now he really regrets taking the hit the way he did. He can't say that this wasn't challenging but he can manage it just well enough; her tongue and movements working wonders against him already being sensitive there in addition to the throbbing from his want for her after bent to the fever pitch of his feelings for her.

One of his heat filled hands does in fact release the sheets as if to unknowingly on his part leave it open for her in the event her own touch isn't enough, but that doesn't stop him from clenching with the other as a reminder to not move. His head nearly went blank and that's putting it lightly. Normally he isn't this sensitive but there's something about all of it that makes it different, from the way he choked keeping his groans, his moans quiet partly because letting the staff find out or especially Adelinde what was happening is not something either of them needed.

Knowing her, not only would she get on to them but she would not let Diluc hear the end of it and rightfully so. He shouldn't be doing this and Eula shouldn't be encouraging it but that's nothing he's worried too much about; for now he's certain he's getting to the edge far too quickly than he did the first time.

Maybe he's that much more sensitive to her in his current state with the two of them choosing to speak through their bodies. To say things they can't say without speaking once she takes him to the hilt, Archons, he near cursed under his breath from it. It took everything to force his hips to stay still and he's all but positive he near is tearing his own sheets but somehow not at the same time.

If she's aiming to make him lose himself with her despite his injury, she's definitely succeeding, in both making him lose it and maybe in killing him with how sensitive he is to her ministrations.)

[ If she knew he was worrying about Adelinde hearing— although of course she can somewhat guess that that much is true— Eula might redouble her efforts in an attempt to make him louder, just so he does indeed get punished. Might, because in reality she wouldn't, not when she knows she really shouldn't be doing this herself. After all, despite her demand for him not to move, there's still a chance he fails to hold himself back, and then she will singlehandedly be responsible for making the issue worse. He should be resting, not gripping the sheets in a hungry desperation while his heat spikes, his arousal throbbing hungrily against the back of her throat.

Should be, and yet despite all of that, Eula can't help herself. He came so frighteningly close to being gone, gone without her saying the things she knows she needs to say (even if she can't find a way to bring them to her lips), so frighteningly close that now with the anger gone it's the least she can do to show him—

—and maybe in a small part hearing him choke back his moans of pleasure is a reminder in and of itself that he's okay, that he made it through and he's here with her.

She moans once more around him as she finds a smooth rhythm that takes him to the back of her throat each time, and with him trying for quiet, the obscene noises of the act echo in the room along with her sharp breaths through her nose, her occasional whimper as she rubs her hand and fingers against herself. And it's not enough, can't be enough when the fabric of her bodysuit protects her from the most intimate of touches— but her focus right now is on him, on the way she can feel his muscles tensing as her tongue drags along his length with each pull up, the way his arousal throbs on each plunge back down. ]

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