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Summary
He couldn’t move. He couldn’t hear what Kaeya was screaming at him. All he could see was the bloodied face that was all too familiar. He stood there not moving an inch, in a rush and panic over everything he remained still, all colour drained from his face as the memories surged. Laughter, shared whispers, stolen kisses and the last time he saw him all mixing in his head making his knees weak and hands by his side shake.
“Diluc!” the scream coming from Kaeya rippled through the room, his voice cracking. “Help us, do something!”.
The maids were now running in with first aid kids, Adelinde holding up the man's head, Jean ripping the shirt off to assess the injuries and stop the bleeding. Everything was red, every surface around, the clothes, everyone's hands now covered by the blood. Diluc wanted to move, he wanted to help, he tried but his body did not listen, legs rooted to the ground, the man who faced countless enemies and danger now stood frozen in front of the figure.
It’s him. He is back. He is here. He is dying.