Diluc slowly settled into his shift at the Angel's Share, a pleasure he did not partake in often. As much as the patrons were loud and rambunctious and stunk of hard liquor, he enjoyed the time he spent working there. He rarely had to cover a shift for Charles, as dutiful as the man was, so why was he here tonight and not tending to his paperwork back at the winery, of which there was much?
Why, pray tell, does one decide to sit on the beach and watch the waves, if they are not measuring the tide? Why does one visit flower fields, if not to pick them for selling or gifts?
The answer is simple. Because it brings one joy. The sight is pleasing to the eye, and calming to the heart. Diluc had been working hard against the abyss order recently and had finally wounded them enough for them to figure out it wasn't worth flinging more mages and hilichurls at the side gates, and withdraw for a while. He figured he deserved a calm night, and although the Angel's Share was not quiet, it left one with a certain warmth and a feel of home.
He took comfort in the glass he was polishing, and in the chatter of the patrons, and in the wonder of Mondstadt. After all, despite his outward demeanor, he may be more of a softie for the city than the Acting Grand Master, Jean Gunnhildr, though you'd never get him to admit it.
The door to the Angel's Share opened with a jingle, and Diluc glanced up to see a familiar eyepatch. No, not that one.
"Ah, Ficshl. It's late, shouldn't you be at home?" The Prinzessin hopped up on a bar stool as close to the wall as possible and sighed.
"Mein Eltern do not care for where I wander, so long as I stay within the walls." She huffed. He slid her a glass of grape juice, pouring one for himself, as well.
"Well, at least you are here and not wandering the streets alone. Here, have some grape juice, on the house."
"Thank you." Diluc's face flashed with a tenth of a second of surprise, almost unnoticed.
"Sie sind willkommen. Enjoy your time at the Angel's Share." Diluc was ashamed to admit his Mondstadtian was rusty. It was rare to find a citizen who still spoke it. Everyone used common now, but the noble families still taught it. This time, it was Ficshl's turn to be shocked. She had learned the language from old books in the Favonius Library, and from a couple of words used in her favorite books, but she had never met anyone else who spoke it.
He went back to tending to the bar, occasionally delivering a drink upstairs, silently asking Fischl if she wanted a little more grape juice, topping off her glass.
It started to get late. The moon was high, and Fischl was starting to doze off. The night was dying down, and so was the fire.
"Alright, the bar's closing for tonight, please make your way back to your homes." Diluc projected his voice across the now fairly calm bar. The patrons finished their glasses and headed out the door, paying their tabs, and heading home. None of them really noticed the young girl half asleep in the corner of the bar.
"Fischl, are you alright heading home? Are you sure your parents arent worried about you?" Diluc rinsed her glass, drying it and setting it back on the shelf with the others.
"Hmph. I doubt anyone but Oz noticed I was gone. And yeah, I'll be just fine... Hey, Sir Diluc? I appreciate this." Diluc looked slightly uncomfortable at the honorific, but he nodded lightly nonetheless.
"There's no need to call me that, I'm not a knight. Just Diluc is fine. Regardless, you're always welcome at the Angel's Share. Feel free to bring along your friends as well, as long as they don't cause any trouble." Fischl smiled wide, striking a mysterious pose and running out the door.
Diluc sighs. Teens. Always in a rush. She reminds him of himself, in a way. Always with his nose in a book, or a training sword in his hand, just trying to figure out who he was.