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◥◣ 良 前 君 ◥◣
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.places we won't walk.
「 diluc & venti 」
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monday nights never failed to be the slowest nights at angels share; the tavern was usually empty save for a couple patrons by the time diluc rolled in to let charles go home for the night. in all honesty, the only thing that kept diluc from closing early each night was his repeat customer who liked to drink him out of house and home — a short little bard with a penchant for drinking himself silly.
like most nights, venti was found at the bar alone, a half empty glass of wine in hand while charles finished cleaning up the glasses that were used in the hours previous. his hat was slung across the stool next to him and his braids were loose, nearly undone as he sipped slowly from the glass.
the second thing diluc noticed upon entering the tavern through the front door was that it was unusually quiet — most nights he'd come into venti talking off charles ear. it could've been about the weather, the wine recipe he asked for every single time he drank, or any other abstract thought that seemed to crawl into the little bard's head.
tonight, however, was quiet.
diluc was the kind of man who appreciated the comfortable silence over useless chat. he himself was a rather reserved man, quiet unless he needed not to be, watching on silently from the sidelines. silence was a breeding ground for thoughts, which he had many of, and something he basked in when he felt particularly drained from long days at the winery and investigations involving the abyss order.
to say he didn't mind venti's constant blabbering, however, was accurate enough for him to feel a slight unease upon stepping into the quiet tavern.
"you may go, charles," he announced, stepping behind the bar to take the towel from the man's hand and the half dried glass he'd been working on.
the red haired man half expected the bard to lighten up upon seeing him, ready for whatever sort of talk venti could engage him in, but even as charles exited the tavern for the night venti was uncharacteristically silent.
the bard stared down into the glass of wine in his hands, a deep orange color that sloshed around when he moved the glass from side to side. his hands, small and nimble, almost like a young woman's, were wrapped loosely around the globe of the glass, fingertips tapping anxiously.
maybe he should've kept the silence between them; he could've ignored the unsettling look in venti's sea green eyes, ignored the way his lips were pressed thin like he was purposefully keeping himself quiet, ignored the way his hair finally fell loose around his neck, swaying down in his face to create the perfect frame for his fair skin — he didn't.
"you're beginning to look like every other face around here," diluc told him, and though he meant it to be light-hearted the words sounded much harsher than he had anticipated. the smaller of the two didn't even begin to compare to the usual somber crowd. venti curled his hands around the glass a little tighter, and diluc sighed. his last intention was to offend him, yet somehow it seemed that was exactly what he had done. silence would've done him better.
"sorry," the bard murmured quietly, watching intently as he the drink swirled in his cup each time he moved it. hesitantly, he lifted the glass back to his lips, parting them and tilting back his head just enough to be able to finish off the rest of his drink in a final gulp. when he was finished, he set the glass down on the counter shakily, fingers barely hooked around the stem of the cup as it wobbled back and forth and finally teetered off the edge of the bar top.
each of them sucked in a breath simultaneously as the glass tilted off of the edge, hurtling towards the floor. it was inevitable — the glass would hit the floor and shatter and with it it would take in the silence that had settled between them and it would dissipate into profound apologies. diluc anticipated it.
the glass hit the floor with a distinct clink, bounced once, and then broke into a dozen shards on the polished hardwood. then, silence.
diluc watched as the bard slid off of the stool slowly, stumbling before he bent down to pick up each piece of broken off glass in between his frail fingers. and then venti sucked in a rather sharp breath, swaying back and forth as he stood up again.
"i didn't mean to..." he dropped the remnants of the glass on the countertop, a pretty gash in the center of his palm where it dripped red. "i'm sorry."
diluc stared dumbly, stunned as the bloody pieces of glass clinked on the bar. the bard shook lightly in his hands, fingers unsteady as he examined his own cut; it wasn't terribly deep but enough to leak blood down his wrist.
"you moron," diluc scoffed lightly, producing a new dry towel from underneath the bar top. he reached outward, took venti's shaking palm within his own, the towel wedged between their flesh as he examined his hand. amazingly, in the parted flesh there wasn't a shard of visible glass. carefully, he wrapped the towel around the wound, using his own hand to force venti to curl his fingers in and keep the cloth in place. "don't you know not to pick up glass like that?"
"i didn't mean to make a mess," venti whispered shakily, eyes watering up at the realization that his hand physically hurt. "i didn't mean to, i'm sorry. i'm really sss—sorry."
the bard's shoulders shook lightly as he began to cry, a steady stream of tears dripping from his round and rosy cheeks. he leaned against the counter from his place on the other side of the bar, looking down at the bloodied pieces of glass beneath his clothed hand. his hair hung down over his face, guarding the sight of him crying away from the bartender greedily. even then, diluc knew in the way that his voice shook and his shoulder wobbled that he was crying.
guilt, though he couldn't figure out just why, blossomed in his chest at the sight and he sighed quietly, reaching his hand over to brush venti's hair away from his face with such gentleness that the bard gasped out quietly.
he was beautiful like that, a sliver of surprise in his watery eyes and black and blue hair framing his reddened cheeks so perfectly. diluc shouldn't have but he did. he'd reached out before his brain could tell him not to. his heart thumped against his chest recklessly, hammering in his ears.
"stop apologizing," the red-head told him, using his thumb to brush away the tears that had collected underneath his eyes. "just blame it on the alcohol."
somehow, those words seemed to offer some sort of comfort for the bard. he slid back into his stool, having to hop up a little in order to get properly situated on the barstool cushion. and diluc took care of the glass, disposing of it properly before turning his full attention back to venti. despite the unwashed dishes he couldn't dare to tear himself away from the lonely bard.
"i can't always blame my mistakes on things like that," venti told him quietly, his fingers subconsciously running over the towel wrapped hand. "there are mistakes i've made that are my fault alone. i wouldn't be able to blame them — blame them on alcohol even if i wanted to."
without words, diluc understood that venti wanted to, more than anything, blame it on the alcohol, blame it on anything other than himself. but he didn't. he carried it with him.
"then," diluc began, and his hand moved back to venti's, unwrapping the towel to take a peak at the wound. it was clotting which meant no more excessive blood. "let me carry some of the burden with you."
"master diluc i—"
he stopped, eyes searching diluc for something he wasn't entirely sure of. diluc looked back at him just as intensely, face clad of any giving emotion but then there were his eyes — eyes that held secrets and promises and all sorts of little nothings. his eyes held the answer that venti was looking for despite not even knowing what exactly it was to begin with. but it was there, warm and welcoming and oh so comforting.
diluc looked at venti like he was the world strung up into a man's body, like he was heaven and earth combined into one single living being who walked alongside him. and diluc never realized exactly what it was that he felt those times he looked at venti when he was giggling with tears in his eyes, but it was warm, so so warm and it made him feel weightless like he could just float away. but there it was, clear as day in his irises: adoration.
"tell me about all of the things that bother you," diluc requested, fingertips dragging over the bard's silky smooth skin with a certain featherlight touch that made him shiver.
"but there's so much," venti admitted hesitantly, using his free hand to gently wipe away the tears that had collected on his eyelashes, the tears that diluc had missed.
"i've got time. all night, actually."
diluc eyed the bard carefully as he contemplated his choice. and then he nodded slowly, gaze drifting back to the palm of his hand. there was a distant look in his eye that diluc didn't exactly care for, a look that told him just how much venti didn't want to (but desperately needed to) talk about the things that were bothering him.
the bartender's fingers curled over the underneath of venti's hand, comforting and warm, and venti relaxed, letting his hand rest in the gentle touch. diluc's thumb brushed over venti's carefully as to not disturb his wound.
it was a gesture that was out of place considering diluc's usually stoic and rigid demeanor, but it felt more normal than most things somehow. his skin on venti's was the kind of normalcy he didn't expect but welcomed happily with open arms.
his heart was beating so fast that he could barely think over the loud drumming in his ears, but he managed.
for the first time that evening venti's lips turned upwards just the slightest bit when their eyes met, bright pools of green pitched against scarlet irises. and it was comfortable, the way that their hands stayed slotted together, the way they looked at one another with gazes that were far too affectionate to be (only) friendly.
"alright then master diluc," venti spoke softly, the gentle pronunciation of each syllable making diluc crack the faintest smile. he wasn't sure how, or why, but he knew with more certainty than most other things that there was nothing he wouldn't do for the bard, even if it meant sitting at the tavern while he cried on his shoulder.