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Maybe he just feels himself to be undeserving of such adoration. Why do you even like him? Much less want him? Diluc Ragnvindr was buried on that rainy day, Diluc Ragnvindr lost himself when he held his sword to his brother's neck. Four years of pilgrimage into the secrets of delusions and what came back was a shadow Darknight hero. Fading hues of red and orange, and flames that burn to destroy. He worries that they would taint you too.
There are times that he wants to give in, take the hand that's been extended to him time and again. He wants to revere it, intertwine it with his own, feel the softness brush against his calloused ones.
...
The dreams and anticipation shatters when guilt rears it's head.
You deserve better.
Better than the shell of a man, that lost himself four years ago. Better than the chasing nightmares that keep him awake every night. Better than the curt and cold words he offers you (even though it breaks him too)
So he will hide, make excuses. Anything that will stop his heart from making that irregular beat again.
What or who will it be next time?
The acting grandmaster? The astrologist? The bow that you had been wanting for that Harbinger that clings to you everytime? Or the spear for the Yaksha that has his ears red whenever you are around?
