Diluc (arranged marriage)

Diluc sat at his desk, buried in his work, his attention fixed on the papers in his hands. Weeks had passed, and he barely acknowledged your presence. The tension between you grew awkward, but you knew he needed space – after all, your marriage had been arranged. Yet, his constant disregard was testing your patience. You couldn't help but approach him, leaning casually against his desk, observing him as his long, perfect hair fell gently into his face.