imagine being diluc's neglected fiance/e from an arranged marriage and he thinks buying you all the luxuries in the world

imagine being diluc’s neglected fiance/e from an arranged marriage and he thinks buying you all the luxuries in the world is enough to make you happy (but it’s not and you’d rather have him return your unrequited feelings over anything with monetary value).

“just name it and it’ll be yours,” diluc would say over a silent dinner, the only time throughout the day you’d manage to talk to him in his busy schedule. you stopped poking at your food, lifting your blank gaze from your plate to the crimson pair of eyes boring to your skull. he was strangely perceptive of your dissatisfaction, but he was also ridiculously oblivious to your affections. “there is no need to hesitate. don’t worry about the price.”

the offer was generous, given out of genuine consideration, yet you couldn’t help but feel upset he actually thought you’d be fine as long as you had his money. “i’m not interested in that sort,” you quipped, biting back a harsh tone.

diluc blinked slowly. “i see,” he responded, keeping his expression neutral. “then what do you want?”

“it’s not something you can buy, i’m afraid,” you sighed, taking a bite out of your meal. he hummed in thought, most likely assuming you desired a priceless rare item, and you quickly dismissed the idea. “it’s not an object, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

his eyebrows creased in mild confusion. “so what is it?”

“it’s…” you placed your hands on your lap, timidly slouching over. you avoided making eye contact, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. “it’s a request. spend time with me for an entire day. that’s all i ask for.”

he hesitated, pausing from cutting the meat on his plate. his stare of disbelief burned your skin, but you didn’t take back the request regardless, adamant on getting what you wanted.

a blink, then a sigh of resignation. “i’ll… try to make time this weekend.”

and, well, if his heart fluttered at the sight of your bright smile when he accepted—he’ll pretend it never happened.