#the joke is ianthe sent her a picture of something else ;)

[ghostlygraphist]

she just wanted to talk about swords

@ryuuna your ianthe is my favourite so i hope you can forgive me for borrowing her for my humble memes 🙏

[gwynrielendgame]

Feyre x Lucien

I’m gonna be honest, I normally hate cheating and anything related, but….I hate Rhysand more 😭😭I’m sorry it’s true. Nothing I hate more than an entitled white(up for debate I suppose), cishet man that is worshipped for being a feminist icon. Anyways, enjoy the story.

@decadantstudent @e-bacellar

Feyre was fuming mad and she planned on giving Lucien an earful until he promised to come to the next winter solstice.

"You are avoiding me." Feyre declared as she burst into his room. Surprisingly, he was not shocked by her entrance. Vassa must have warned him that she would be coming.

"Has it ever occurred to you that not everything is about you Feyre?" Lucien gave a heavy sigh as he finished buttoning the cuff on his left hand. He was standing in front of a long mirror, looking as regal and handsome as ever. Feyre put both hands on her hips and gave him the same look Nyx received when he was in trouble.

"Then why did you not come to solstice?" She demanded. She could not explain why her feelings were so hurt, but they were. After everything they had been through, he should at least come to celebrate her birthday.

"Believe it or not, Feyre, you are the only one who wants me there. Not very welcoming." He met her eyes through the mirror before fiddling with his next cuff. Feyre knew her family was not very kind to him, but she did not realize it had bothered him. Most insults slid off his back as if he had never heard it in the first place. With his quick wit and even quicker mouth, Feyre just assumed he might even like the banter.

"That is not true." She struggled to think of anyone else who liked having Lucien there. There was no one, but she simply wanted to argue with him at this point. "Nyx likes you."

"Nyx is a baby. He likes everyone."

"It is my birthday, Lucien. The least you could do is show up."

"I sent a gift. Did you not get it?" He elegantly leaned his shoulder against the wall. His nonchalance bothered her though.

"The bow and arrows were lovely but that's not the point, Lucien." She could admit they had been one of her favorite gifts. It had been perfectly crafted to fit all of Feyre's preferences. She brought it with her on every mission now.

"Then what is?" The bastard had the nerve to look amused.

"I was a much better friend to you than you were to me and now all I ask is for you to come to one event a year."

"Feyre, what do you want from me? I cannot go back and change the past. Trust me I would if I could. How can I fix it if an apology will not?" He seemed exasperated by the entire situation which only resulted in infuriating Feyre further.

"Changed behavior! Be a better friend." She shrieked as she crossed her arms across her chest. She was hoping to come across as a disappointed mother, but she felt more like a nagging mate.

"You hardly seemed like you even wanted me there the last three solstices. So what do you really want?" Lucien pushed himself off the wall and elegantly stretched out on his emerald green couch. Feyre reconsidered for a moment. What did she want?

"Answers."

Lucien looked at her with raised eyebrows.

"Would you ever have intervened with Tamlin if Rhysand did not exist?" She decided to ask. She had blamed Lucien as much as Tamlin for what had happened. No matter how unfair, part of Feyre did resent Lucien. He gave a pained look. The first hint of something other than annoyance.

"Eventually. Not as soon as you would have wanted." He admitted while looking away, clearly ashamed. His jaw clenched tightly under her watchful eye.

"Why?"

"Tamlin has done more for me than any other fae. Betraying him in the worst way possible would not have been easy." Lucien offered. There was more to it that he was refusing to admit to and Feyre was determined to get to the bottom of it.

"But allowing me to suffer was?" She asked softly as she stared at her feet. It appeared seeing each other’s faces would be too much for both of them considering neither would look at each other.

"No! I did not know it was as bad as it was. Unlike you Feyre I am not a mind reader. It was not like you came crying to me about how miserable you were."

He had a point there. As close as she was to Lucien, she knew he would not respond how she wanted, so she kept her feelings inside. Regardless, he must have known she was unhappy.

"Do not pretend. You knew it was bad." She finally found the courage to look up at him, but his head was in his hands as his elbows rested on his knees.

"What would you have done in my position? Say Azriel was mistreating that priestess he is so fond of and no one else knew? Would you whisk her away knowing it would destroy him without a second thought? Without a plan hm?" There was such conviction in his eye when he looked up at her that

Feyre paused. She cocked her head to analyze Lucien. Had he been concocting a plan to help her? One that never came to fruition because of Rhysand? She ignored that thought altogether. It was too complicated to piece apart.

"Can you be honest for like five minutes, Lucien?"

"I have been honest!" He was clearly frustrated as he snapped at Feyre. He stood up from the chair.

"Then tell me why you did not help me?" She demanded. "You saw what he was doing to me and allowed it to continue." Feyre had never been this angry at Lucien, but all her previous resentment was rising to the surface and she could not contain it. Her chest was heaving from all the yelling she had done.

"Because I loved you!" He shouted back at her while pacing the length of his room. "Because I knew it was suffocating you and I could not find it in myself to stop it because I wanted you safe as much as Tamlin did."

Feyre reared back at Lucien's admittance. She truly was not expecting that. Lucien stopped his pacing to look at her through his one good eye. He looked miserable and clearly did not want to talk about this, but Feyre had forced it out. He dragged his hand through his hair rather roughly. Feyre suddenly wished she had never come to the band of exiles, had never accused Lucien of being a bad friend. She thought he had been running away from Elain and Tamlin, but perhaps he had been running away from her as well. The space between them felt too small.

"Lucien..." she did not know what to say, so she let the silence drag on. He sighed heavily before sitting in the chaise at the corner of the room once again. He let his head drop, refusing to look her in the eye.

"I knew the prophecy meant you had to fall for Tamlin, so I stepped back. The more time I spent with you though, the more I wanted you for myself. I thought you might have felt the same way until calanmai." He shrugged as if he was not admitting to something that could destroy their entire friendship.

"But then you mated to Rhys and I mated to Elain, and do not misunderstand. Your sister is lovely, but she is not the only one avoiding the bond." He finally looked up at her and the pain in his eye made Feyre want to comfort him. She was unsure if that was appropriate now though. She stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. She supposed she could offer an olive branch in a room where only Lucien could hear her deepest, buried thoughts.

"I was jealous of Vassa." She blurted before she could stop herself. Lucien tilted his head as he analyzed her words. "I thought I was jealous of your friendship because you were my first true friend, but I think part of me wants you to remain unattached at my side as you were when I was with Tamlin." The hopeful glint in Lucien's eye had her adding on the next part. "I love Rhysand more than life itself and I would not change anything." His face fell.

The silence dragged on with both of them refusing to move any closer to each other. It was safest with Lucien in his chair and Feyre standing by the door. Lucien leaned back in his chair with a surprisingly blank expression. More than anything she wanted to see his smirk and have him crack a joke so that she knew their friendship was not lost forever.

"I started to resent you. That's why I left with Vassa and Jurian." Feyre felt something crack in her chest, but she did not want to ponder all the possibilities of that. "I slept with Ianthe for you."

"I never asked-" Feyre started to interrupt but Lucien held up his hand to stop her.

"I know. But I knew you would never forgive Tamlin if he participated in Calanmai and I did not want that to be something that drove you two apart. I mean I did, but..." he seemed to struggle with his words for the first time ever. He rubbed his hands roughly over his face. "I knew that if I participated that Ianthe would sink her claws into the opportunity." His face went two shades paler and the dread in his voice finally had Feyre crossing the imaginary line in the room. She sat next to him and took his hand. He refused to turn and look at her, but he did squeeze her hand.

"I never wanted that. But I loved you too much and I loved Tamlin too much. I should have put my foot down with him way before you ever entered the picture." Feyre put her hand on his cheek to force him to look at her. His eyes brimmed with unshed tears. It was not her fault that Lucien was forced to be with Ianthe, but she still felt sad that Lucien would have done anything for Tamlin even if he would not have returned the favor.

He grabbed both of her cheeks with his hands and gently brought her face to his. He was giving her time to back away. She realized in this moment she should not have come. The emotionally charged room kept her from pulling away. She thought she was giving Lucien a passionate kiss before they each went their separate ways permanently. Instead, Lucien very softy brushed his lips against hers and then pulled away. It could hardly be considered a kiss. Once he dropped his hands from her face, the spell was broken and Feyre was moving to the far end of the room.

"Sorry." Was all Lucien could muster without even looking at her. Her face flamed bright red with a wave of shame and something else she did not want to label.

"It's fine." She stammered. "I should go."

He let her leave the room without so much as a look in her direction. Feyre had never quite understood all her feelings where Lucien was concerned. She planned on keeping it locked away forever though.

[snelbz]

Lost Time {18}

Summary: It’s been four years since Azriel ran away from Velaris and left behind everyone he ever loved  — including the girl left standing at the altar. Now, he’s back home, but can he try and pick up the broken pieces of his life, or has there been too much lost time?

@snelbz​ / @tacmc​ collab

Lost Time Masterlist

Fanfiction Masterlist

My Ask Box

Azriel sat in silence in Cassian’s living room, both he and Rhysand staring at him, unblinking. Azriel was doing nothing, just letting them take in the information as he slowly sipped his steaming cup of black coffee.

It was a pleasant morning, sunny and cloud-free, warm. Azriel was exhausted, though. He hadn’t slept a wink. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could think about was Ianthe and the texts she had sent, the words haunting him.

She was in town.

In his hometown.

And she wasn’t leaving him alone.

After he woke up that morning, he got Novan ready to go and brought him over to Cassian’s after Elain had left for work.

After his second cup of coffee, he had told his brothers the entire story of Ianthe, the parts they hadn’t already known, then confessed about her texts, and the fact that Elain knew absolutely nothing about it.

Which he both felt equally confident and guilty about.

“So, let me get this straight,” Cassian said, at last. “Your ex, who is a model, and a little bit of a stalker, is in town, and hasn’t stopped texting you since last night…and you haven’t mentioned any of this to Elain. Your wife.”

Azriel nodded, watching as Novan chased the kitten up the stairs.

“And this Ianthe also got into it with you when you were in New York getting your stuff,” Rhysand followed. “Which Elain also doesn’t know about.”

Azriel gave them both an exasperated, pointed look. “Obviously you have all the facts, alright? Now, what do I do? Elain’s pregnant, tired, and sick. I don’t want to tell her about it if it’s nothing, she has enough going on, but I can never tell with Ianthe, I never know what she’ll do. She’s not the type that exactly takes no for an answer.”

“Clearly,” Cassian muttered, reaching for his coffee, and Azriel glowered.

“No, no,” Rhys said, stopping Az from giving Cassian a smartass remark. “That’s his thinking voice.”

Azriel glanced at Rhys and then at Cass and found him still holding his coffee cup. They sat in silence for a moment, the only sound Novan’s feet chasing the small ball of fur through the house.

“Just the texts and calls so far?” He finally asked, looking up at Az. He nodded in confirmation. Cassian shrugged. “I can’t do anything until she makes a physical unwanted advance on you or Elain in Velaris. And back in New York, did anything…happen? Did you make her a promise or anything?”

“Like, the last time I saw her?” Az asked. “Or before that?”

He had to admit, Azriel didn’t like the way Cassian’s eyebrows rose at that question. “Let’s start with last time and then explain before that.” With a sigh, Azriel ran through that last night one more time, remembering the rage in Ianthe’s bright eyes well. “Okay,” Cass continued. “Now…before that?”

Azriel sighed and hung his head. “I may have told her on a few, drunk occasions that I thought marriage was a sham and that with enough persuasion, I’d …” He groaned and dragged his hands down his face.”I’d always be down for a quick ride.”

Both of his brothers stared at him, and then Cassian asked, quietly for the sake of little ears, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Azriel set down his mug before rubbing his temples. “Look, marriage wasn’t really my favorite topic throughout the years, alright? So, excuse me if in my miserable drunken state that I said bitter shit I didn’t mean.”

“That miserable shit is going to be what gets you in trouble,” Cassian said, staring his younger brother down. “You need to talk to Elain.”

Azriel scoffed. “And tell her that? No, I don’t think so.”

“Az,” Rhysand began, shaking his head, slowly. “I get the drunken shit, okay? But, that’s going to be what she uses to get her way.”

“I know, I know,” Azriel groaned.

“Ianthe seems like a piece of work,” Cassian said, leaning back and rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

A little head peeked over the railing of the banister and they heard “Uncle Cass?”

They all glanced up as Cassian asked “Yeah, buddy?”

“How do I get power rangers on the tv?”

“I’ll be right back,” he muttered, jogging up the stairs.

Azriel sighed and took a drink of his coffee. “I need something stronger than this.”

“Apparently you don’t,” Rhys mumbled, taking a sip of his own. He set the mug back on the side table beside him. “Especially if you make stupid, fucking promises when you’re drunk.”

Az glowered at him, not saying anything, just throwing his brother a vulgar gesture. He finally sighed and said, “Things were pretty bad for me for a while. Didn’t really feel anything. Just took pictures and lived my life. It’s probably why my shots were so good.” He laughed, but Rhysand could tell there was no humor in the sound. “I could only see and feel emotion through my camera lens. I was numb to my own, so I…captured other people’s. And just continued to ignore my own.”

It took Rhysand a moment to say anything else, but when he did, his voice was soft. “I get it. Try not to worry about it, yeah? Just…talk to Elain when she gets home so that she’s aware, and prepared, but don’t stress out about it until something happens. And hopefully nothing will happen.”

Azriel nibbled on his lip for a second before nodding. “No, yeah, you’re right.”

And yet, he felt a heavy sense of dread in the pit of his stomach as each word left his mouth.

* * * * * *

Working the day after she got married wasn't exactly how Elain had planned things, but things hadn’t exactly gone according to plan for most of her life.

Not that she was complaining, she loved her complicated life and wouldn’t trade it for anything.

She smiled at the couple who’d brought a family heirloom in, an old dresser that belonged to his grandmother. She hesitated before saying, “I can handle the refurbishment, but I’ll let you know now, my turn around is a little slower than it used to be.” She tucked a hand under her small bump and explained, “I’m a few days shy of three months pregnant, and my husband is looking for a well-ventilated workshop for me-.”

“It’s no rush,” the woman - Claire, she’d written on her order form - smiled, and looked up at her husband. “It’s actually for our baby’s nursery. I’m fourteen weeks.”

Elain’s smile was genuine as she said, “Congratulations! Okay, that gives me a little bit of time.”

After finishing up with the sweet couple and with some help, Elain had moved the dresser by the door to have Az load up and take home after work. Leaning against her desk, Elain stared at her reflection in one of the elegant full length mirrors that she’d salvaged from an old manor house and wrapped a hand under her belly again. She dialed Nesta’s number and waited as it rang.

“Hello?” Nesta asked.

“Do twins run in our family?” Elain asked, not even replying to her sister’s greeting.

“I- What?”

“Do we have the twin gene?” She asked again. “It’s not like we can trace Az back, so do you know if we have twins anywhere in our family?”

The other line was quiet for a suspicious amount of time. “Why?”

“Because I just had a customer who’s fourteen weeks pregnant, which is only a couple weeks farther than me, and I look drastically bigger than her.”

Nesta was quiet for a minute, then she said, “After Miryam and I were joking about it, I decided to do some digging into our family history. It turns out that Mom’s brothers are twins. They live down south, if I remember right. They and Mom never got along. I think the last time we saw them, you were just a baby-.”

“Nesta,” Elain interrupted, recalling she and Azriel’s previous conversation about twins. Elain had been joking, too, for the most part, then. They hadn’t been too close to their mother’s family, but she figured Nesta would have known. “What if I’m having twins?”

“What if you are?” Nesta repeated, and Elain rolled her eyes.

“If I am, Azriel will surely freak the hell out,” Elain mumbled, plopping down in an old wooden chair.

“Just means my baby gets two besties instead of one,” Nesta chuckled and Elain knew she was doing the exact same thing she was, rubbing soothing circles into her belly.

She smiled and changed the subject, asking, “When are you going to tell us what you’re having?”

The sigh that left Nesta would have made a soap star proud. “Whenever I find out, you’ll find out. Cassian is looking for the perfect gender reveal. He takes the damn envelope with him everywhere he goes because he knows I’ll look otherwise.”

Elain paused. “Has he looked? I can have Donovan ask, you know he’d tell-.”

“No, it’s still sealed,” she sighed. “I told him he has until next week to find something or I’m taking it to Viv’s bakery.”

The bell above the door jingled, alerting Elain of a new customer and she said, “I’ve got someone coming in, but let me know and I can drop it off on my way into work, okay?”

“Okay, I love you,” Nesta said, and Elain could hear her getting back up to go back to work as well. “Call Yrene. See if she can set up another scan. Find me another niece in there.”

Elain was laughing as she tried to see out of the back office. “And how do you know it’s a girl in the first place?”

“I have a hunch,” she replied, simply, then hung up.

With a roll of her eyes, and a small smile, Elain was up on her feet.

There was a tall, slender woman with long, blonde hair and some of the most beautiful eyes Elain had ever seen. She was eyeing an old, vintage floor length mirror that Elain had already refinished. She had been hoping that no one bought it because she was so in love with it that she wanted it in the corner of her bedroom.

“Hi,” Elain said, once she had approached, her smile bright. “Can I help you with anything?”

The woman met Elain’s eye with a smile. “Yes, actually. I’m looking for a gift.”

“I can certainly help with that,” she smiled. “Are we looking for something in particular?”

The woman glanced around the store. “Not really. It’s- it’s sort of complicated.”

“Okay,” Elain said, confused by the hesitation in the girl’s words. “Who’s it for?”

“The love of my life.” There was no hesitation this time and Elain smiled at her. “He’s an old soul. And I just got into town, I don’t know the area. So I just…ended up here.”

She nodded, knowing she hadn’t seen the beauty around before. It was a small town. “Who is he?” She saw the hesitation on her face and realized that just because she was in a small town, she might not be used to how nosy small town folks could be. “I’m sorry, that was rude. Follow me,” Elain said, blushing.

She led her over to an old workbench she’d finished the week before. She’d been debating on taking it home for Azriel to store his spare lenses and bodies for his cameras.

“Oh, this is beautiful,” the woman said, and then she blushed. “I have an odd request.”

Elain blinked. “Okay?”

“May I...sit on it?” She asked.

“Sit on it?” Elain repeated.

She cleared her throat. “Yes, I’d like to have some pictures taken with it.”

Elain blinked but said, “That shouldn’t be a problem. It’s quite sturdy.” The woman hopped up, pulling a foot up and planted it on the surface. Clearing her throat and looking away, Elain asked, “Are you a model?”

The woman’s eyes snapped to Elain’s. “Why?”

“You’re very pretty,” she laughed, meaning her words. “That and the pictures.”

“Ah,” the woman smiled. “Yes, I am. And thank you, that’s kind of you to say. You’re very pretty, too.”

Elain’s cheeks turned pink. “Thank you.”

“You’re pregnant, I see?” she asked, glancing down at Elain’s hand that rested on her stomach.

“I am,” Elain said, nodding.

“Congrats,” she said, her smile radiant. “And the father? He loves you?”

Elain’s heart softened. “Very much so. He’s….well, he’s my soulmate.”

“Soulmate,” the woman repeated. “I want to know what that’s like.” She looked back down at the bench. After a moment, she fished her phone out of her leather satchel and held it out to Elain. “A picture? Would you mind?”

“Of course not,” Elain said, taking the phone from the model’s hand and snapping a few pictures as she posed. Elain nearly felt awkward. It wasn’t everyday that she photographed models on her refinished antique furniture.

Azriel would get a kick out of it when she told him after work.

The girl hopped down and took her phone from Elain’s outstretched hand. She looked down at her phone, smiling and approving of the pictures. “Thank you, do you mind if I look around for a minute? Everything is so beautiful.”

“Of course not, please,” Elain said, smiling. She gestured towards the back of the store. “I’ll be in my office, but my name is Elain. Just holler if you need me.”

The girl smiled, slipping her phone back in her pocket and said nothing else. Something in her gaze though, it suddenly unnerved Elain and she turned and was nearly back to her office when she heard, “Thank you, Elain.”

A moment later, Elain heard the bell above the door announce her exit.

* * * * * *

Azriel had just dropped Novan off with Miryam. She was going to bring him to the zoo for a grandparent’s day, which Azriel was pretty bitter that he couldn’t go with.

It’s a Meme/Novan thing, Miryam had explained.

Azriel wasn’t going to argue by saying how much he loved seeing the giraffes.

Even though it was true.

He thought he’d try to scope out some landmarks, though, see what he could photograph in the little town of Velaris, before he went home and edited some stuff he had to send in.

But then, his phone chimed.

It was Ianthe, of course, but that wasn’t what had him slamming on his brakes.

Ianthe was sitting on an antique bench that had been refinished in a shop that Azriel knew all too well.

After pulling a very dangerous u-turn, resulting in a vulgar gesture from the minivan he’d accidentally cut off, he turned around and sped back into town, toward Elain’s shop. He cursed every time he got stopped at a redlight, which was far too often.

He didn’t see any cars in the small lot and knew that Elain parked in the back, but it didn’t stop him from pulling crookedly into the first spot he reached and rushing inside. Azriel hurried straight to Elain’s office and found her sitting at her desk, a forkful of salad in her mouth. Her eyes were wide in surprise, a bit of green hanging between her lips.

“Are you okay?” Azriel asked, breathless.

Elain’s eyebrows raised and she covered her mouth as she chewed, her other hand instinctively covering her stomach. “Yes? I mean, I think so,” she said, once she had chewed and swallowed her lunch. “What are you doing here, baby?”

Azriel glanced over his shoulder and saw that no one was in the shop. He hurried back to the door, flipping the open sign to closed, and locked the door.

“What are you doing?” She asked, voice slightly panicked as she left the back office.

He didn’t answer, just walked towards her and rested his hands on her hips, one of his thumbs gently brushing over her belly. “We need to talk.”

Elain blinked, staring at him as if he had gone mad. “Okay…”

“There was a woman in here today,” he began, trying to slow his words, realizing how panicked he sounded. “Blonde, tall-.”

“What, the model?” she asked.

So they had a conversation, Azriel thought, as he closed his eyes and sighed. “Yes. She’s… She’s my ex, El. She’s here from New York, and I don’t know why.”

Elain continued to stare at him for a minute, trying to register his confession. “What?”

“She’s my ex. The…one I had been with, after you.” His words were soft, ashamed. “She…texted me last night, saying she was in town.”

Elain was blinking, shaking her head, trying to process what he was telling her. “How do you even—. She said she was here to—.” Her eyes widened and she smacked him in the chest. “Oh, my god, those pictures were for you!”

He raised his hands in surrender, but could tell she wasn’t angry with him, thank the Cauldron, just taken off guard. “Apparently, so. But I didn’t ask for them.” He took her hands in his, turning her wedding band over as he spoke. “This is what I said I wanted to talk about earlier.”

Elain’s eyes slipped closed and she nodded, recalling his text from that morning. Reopening her eyes, she said, “I understand why you wanted to have this talk in person now.”

He smiled, but she could tell he was worried. “And until Donovan was in bed.”

She nodded and wrapped her arms around him. “Why didn’t you tell me last night?”

Azriel looked away from her, at the floor, at his shoes. At first, he didn’t know what to say. There was no real excuse, no real reason to keep something from his wife. “I was ashamed. Embarrassed. Lainy, the years we spent apart… I’m not proud of them, you know? A lot went on, and I hate it all. Unfortunately, Ianthe was a part of that time we spent apart, and now it’s coming back to haunt me.”

Elain nodded, although she nibbled on her lip.

“You’re thinking of something,” he whispered. “What are you thinking?”

“That my husband has some creepish girl that’s in love with him following him around,” she whispered, her words rushed. “And… I don’t know. She’s here. Around you. Me. Our son, our family, Azriel.”

“I know,” he said, shaking his head. “She won’t hurt us though, okay? She’s harmless.”

“Is that why you hurried here once you found out she came to the shop?” Elain asked, exasperated. He could see the fear in her eyes, how shaken this had her.

He was still shaking his head, but he dropped his forehead to hers. “I rushed here because I fucked up in not telling you last night and she’s manipulative enough to say something.”

Elain scoffed and said, “She’s got some pretty big balls if she came in here and had your wife take pictures to send to you.”

Azriel chuckled and said, “You’re right. But just—.” He sighed. “Promise me you’ll be careful, okay? Keep an eye on your surroundings.” As her eyes widened, he added, “I don’t think she would do anything, but I’m going to worry until she leaves town. I can keep Novan with me, I can keep an eye on him. But you two,” his eyes softened as he gently caressed her belly. “I can’t always be with you. And I need both of you safe.”

Elain’s eyes lined with silver and she said, “I love you. It doesn’t matter that she’s here. What matters is that we have each other.”

“Exactly,” he breathed, leaning down to kiss her softly. He leaned back and gazed down at her. “Gods, you’re beautiful. Didn’t you say there was something you needed to talk to me about, too?”

Elain was beaming up at him, but she blinked, registering what he’d said. “Yes, sorry. You distracted me and made me cry.”

With a chuckle, Azriel kissed her forehead and walked them back to her office. He sat down in her chair, and pulled her into his lap. “Here, eat and talk. I’m not turning that sign back around until you’ve eaten and are full.”

With an eyebrow raised, Elain asked, “Of your cock?”

Azriel choked on air and when he glanced at her, he found her cheeks red. “I know what’s on your mind today. I’ll remember that later,” he said, squeezing her ass softly. “Now what were you going to talk to me about?”

Elain could feel how hard he’d become, but she did as she was told and resumed her lunch. Before taking a bite, she said, “I’m going back to see Yrene tomorrow at nine.”

Azriel tensed. “Why?”

Elain shrugged. “Just another ultrasound.”

Azriel nodded. “Should I go with you?”

“You can, if you want,” she said, softly. “But, it’s just to be sure…”

There was a moment of silence before Azriel asked, “Sure of?”

“To be sure of how many babies are in here,” Elain said, quietly, holding onto her stomach.

Azriel stared at her, blinking. “You really think it’s twins? I thought you were joking.”

“I feel like I’m so much bigger than I should be, Az,” she breathed. “I’m not saying it’s for sure, but… It’s a possibility.”

Azriel took a deep breath and nodded. “And, if it is twins?”

Elain looked up at him. “If it is?”

Azriel laughed, quietly. “Elain, any child I can have with you is a blessing,” he whispered. “One baby, two, three… I just want to grow our family.”

Elain’s eyes were tearing up. “Three though? That’s a little much.”

Azriel chuckled. “I’m just saying… However many babies are in there, Lainy, I’m going to be so grateful.” She started to cry again, but ate her salad, and Azriel laughed. He kissed her shoulder and said, “I love you, you emotional, basket case.”

She stabbed another bite and muttered, “I love you, too.”

* * * * * *

The scene was so sweet, that even from the coffee shop in the square, Ianthe could see the couple lovingly embrace, and her pale eyebrow arched.

She hadn’t lied earlier, Azriel’s wife was very pretty. She was also very much pregnant. She hadn’t expected that. But she hadn’t thought that Azriel was serious when he’d said he’d had a son, until she took to social media and discovered she was blocked on every platform she had. After creating bogus account after bogus account, he finally accepted one of her follow requests and she came face to face with a picture of a little boy, who was the spitting image of him all over his personal Instagram, his Facebook, everything.

So he apparently had another on the way, it changed nothing. She came here for one reason and that was to bring Azriel back home. Clearly, he had no issue leaving who ever this Elain was while she was pregnant once before. She’d just have to convince him to do it again. Her lips curved upwards slightly as she took a drink from the white mug.

Azriel kissed his wife, softly, as they snuggled into his chair as she sipped her coffee.

He had confessed to her years ago that marriage meant little to nothing to him. In fact, he had proven his devotion to Ianthe over and over again throughout the years. Late at night, early in the morning, between shoots. They had seen each other naked too many times throughout the years for him to just disappear without a trace, saying he was married with kids.

It was bullshit.

Where did this woman even come from? Azriel had said very little about his past through the years, about the women he had dated before. All she knew was that he hadn’t seen anyone, at least not seriously, throughout the time she’d known him. Then, he comes home for a funeral, is gone for hardly any time at all, and comes back to New York, rejects her, and has a wife, a kid, and another on the way?

Something didn’t seem right.

She had come here for a job, that much was true. The modeling shoot had lasted less than a day and when the agency asked when to book her flight back, she told them she’d pay for her own flight, as she didn’t intend to return yet.

Because she wouldn’t be returning alone.

[illyrianwingspans]

Do Not Go Gentle: Grave Digger

Link to song: Grave Digger (stripped) by Matt Maeson (my absolute fave artist)

Synopsis: A wedding. Kind of. 

TW: Violence, domestic abuse, domestic violence, dark thoughts, mention of self-harm and suicidal ideation. 

Ao3 Link

Chapter 10: Grave Digger

The dress was monstrous. When I’d first tried it on, I thought it was a joke. Something Ianthe had picked out to make me laugh. But when I saw the joy and approval in her face, I realized the grave mistake I’d made in even setting foot in the thing. She’d called over the shopkeeper without a moment’s hesitation to announce that we’d made our decision, though I hadn’t even said a thing.

It didn’t matter anyways. Weddings weren’t my thing, and I knew Ianthe had better taste than me. She knew that this would probably make Tamlin happy. Gods knew that I would’ve picked a dozen dresses before even nearing this one.

And the mess and tangle of lingerie that I was wearing below this had me sweating and itching as I paced the entrance of the wide double doors leading into the church. I couldn’t even scratch—I wouldn’t know where to begin amidst the layers of tule and chiffon. The corset also made it hard to breathe. I’d balked when Alis had first presented it to me when she aided me in dressing, cursed everyone and everything as she’d pulled the strings taut and nearly squeezed the life out of me, yet appreciated the effect of it nonetheless. Though I was already thin enough as it was.

“Are you almost ready?” Alis asked, her face bubbling with joy and excitement. I nodded my head in affirmation, trying to mimic her expression, but couldn’t help as my thoughts wandered to my family.

I’d sent the invitation. I’d even called my father during those months of boredom, several times—fruitlessly. No one would walk me down the aisle, not that I needed it. I could walk myself. And I didn’t need my sisters as bridesmaids, my sisters who hadn’t deigned to speak to me in years. Alis would walk before me and hold my bouquet. White peonies, roses and baby’s breath. It was so enormous that my hands were lost in them.

As though I was hearing it through water, the string quartet began to play in the distance through the closed doors before us. Ianthe was already in there, finishing last minute details, ordering everyone in their places, and was probably gushing with delight at this very moment.

“Alright, it’s time,” Alis beamed, and I nodded my head hurriedly. Panic squeezed my lungs as the doors opened and Alis began walking ahead in her gold satin slip.

Everyone stood, people I had seen at office gatherings, this or that party—my list of invites had been extremely short. Most of my friends were already in the wedding party, anyway. My family hadn’t showed up, which wasn’t to be a surprise. And Rhysand—

I hadn’t bothered inviting him or Cassian. I knew Tamlin would’ve said no anyways.

The first step I took was shaky. Alis was nearly to the end, and I could only just be seen at the mouth of the church. Finally, people turned where they stood to take in the sight of me—baubled and made up like a dazzling doll. Murmurs of excitement and approval ran through the gathered crowd.

And there, at the podium with the minister and Lucien at his side, Tamlin stood in his white tuxedo and black bowtie. His face was set in a full, dazzling smile as he took in the sight of me, and his green eyes were enough to have me melting. I took another step, ready to join us together, ready to step into the next chapter of our lives—

I looked down. To the white, velvet carpet that’d been laid on the church’s sandy, tan floors, and was transported to a memory that surfaced a few mere weeks ago.

“Flowers,” Ianthe said, clicking her pen against her lips. She’d invited me up to her office to discuss the finalizations of colour schemes, seating charts and the photo-booth (I didn’t know why we’d need a bloody photo-booth if we had a photographer already) while Tamlin finished up for the last hour of the day. I was still jittery after passing by Hum’s on the building’s main floor, and tried to ignore the intrusive thoughts trying to jam their way into my consciousness.

“Um, whatever fits the scheme. White?”

Ianthe thought it over for a moment, her eyes flicking upwards as he tried to imagine it in her mind. “Yes, I guess that would work with your bouquet. For everything else, though—”

“I don’t care, honestly. Whatever fits the scheme.” I had no clue what the ‘scheme’ was, but I had to pretend as though I was reading her emails and was actually invested into this entire affair. Another thought of the shop entered my mind, and I blurted out, “Except red.”

“Hmm?” Ianthe clicked away at her tablet, eyes stuck to her screen.

I repeated, “Any colour, except red.” She nodded absentmindedly, and I continued to flick through pictures of flowers, eyes training on the peonies.

Before, scattered perfectly haphazardly across the aisle leading me to my soon-to-be husband, were red rose petals, drops of blood speckled across the white.

When I looked up at Tamlin, I saw that the handkerchief in his pocket was gold and red.

Three hundred people blurred and melded together as they stared at me, dressed in this ivory gown. I shouldn’t be wearing this. Because I was a fraud. Because my hands, clutching the bouquet for dear life, were so filthy.

Everyone else was thinking it as their eyes drank in my every step. They had to be.

Each second extended longer than the last. Every pace closer to Tamlin, though, felt too fast—

He stood there, his chin held high, his eyes glistening as the warm afternoon sun glinted across the velvet accents of his tux. Ahead of me, a cluster of red petals loomed—just like the pool I kneeled in next to Isaac’s dead body.

I stopped in my tracks. Ten feet before the dais, I just…stopped.

Lucien’s brow furrowed. Tamlin only stepped forward and extended his hand, the unwavering confidence in his features begging me to close the distance between us. Hundreds of eyes watched me as I stood there, unmoving. My heart was pounding in my ears.

I was going to vomit.

The sunlight was too harsh, the people surrounding me crowding in, trapping me, until there was barely any air left for my aching lungs to breathe. As inescapable as the vows I was about to make, binding him to me for life, to this broken, weary soul.

Forever—I would never get free of myself, of my mind, of the beast that roiled within me, the one that’d pulled that trigger, the one that spent every waking and sleeping moment stuck in that car, kneeling in that storage room—

“Feyre,” Tamlin said, a small smile on his lips, but there was panic in his eyes. It was nothing like the panic within my chest, a bird flapping its wings, begging to break free. I only stared back, wide-eyed, unable to move.

If I turned away, people would whisper. If I walked out—I’d find myself completely and utterly alone in this world. But I couldn’t make it to the dais. Not for my sake, but for his—he couldn’t shackle himself to me. I wouldn’t let him.

Butcher. Killer. Murderer of innocents.

My foot stumbled as I tried to retreat, but a piercing noise broke the silence as the middle-most stained-glass window of the church seemed to burst, then fall to the floor in scattered, broken pieces.

People screamed, falling back, and many fell to the floor as the resounding sound of a gunshot echoed throughout the large space. I just stood there, mouth agape, unable to move. Everyone else was on the ground—I looked over to see Tamlin sprawled on the dais, Lucien and Ianthe beside him. But I could only stand there.

Frozen. Paralyzed.

Then I felt heat, heat in my hands, and I looked down to realize that the flowers had been completely destroyed. They were shaking, and I realized it was my hands—shaking, just like they had been when I clutched that gun.

And to my right, embedded in the shredded wood of the pew, was a bullet.

+

I sat in bed, the blanket curled around my shoulders, staring straight ahead as Tamlin made another phone call.

It hadn't taken long for everyone to clear out of the church. People fled, alarms blared in the distance, and I remembered Tamlin yelling for me. But I'd only fallen to my knees, unable to move as I was brought back to my trembling legs buckling, falling to the cold cement blanketed in warm blood. His arms had wrapped around me, and I'd clutched him hard as he near dragged me out of the church, down the aisle of blood, to safety where the police were stationed.

Rounds and rounds of questions. The angle of the bullet, the timeline of events. Tamlin frowned the entire time I carefully recounted walking down the aisle, and I left out the whole detail of me barely making it to the dais. Hours went by. Questions, security measures, phone calls and possible suspects. They'd scoped out the buildings nearby and found nothing. The security footage was requested from them all and would be looked over meticulously in the coming days.

Still, as I wrapped myself tighter in the warmth of the sherpa throw, I couldn't help but think of Rhys's warning yesterday. How I'd blatantly ignored it, and purposefully kept it secret from the cops.

Tamlin sighed and ended the call. His words had all blurred together throughout the day, I could barely decipher one from the next anymore. No, all I could focus on was the terror, the guilt—

Because bullet or not, I wasn't sure I would've walked down that aisle today. And that...

That's what terrified me the most.

Tamlin's eyes met mine. I didn't know what it was about the expression on his face, the exhaustion that weighed down his shoulders, but my eyes filled with tears. Chin quivering, I looked away, unable to face him.

“Feyre,” he murmured gently, then kneeled on the bed, climbing into it until he sat beside me. A sob tore from my mouth as I turned into him, clutching his shoulder as I buried my face into his chest.

“Why?” he asked. The betrayal in his voice stung. “Do you...” he trailed off, his voice thick with tears. “Do you not want to marry me?”

I looked up, telling myself that he at least deserved some sort of explanation.

“No, Tamlin. I love you. I love you.” My fingers trembled as I ran my hand through my hair to pull it away from my face. “It's just... I don't know what it was. I had a panic attack.”

His face hardened. We didn't usually talk like this, but it felt good to say it. To know he would listen. I continued, face heating with embarrassment, “There were red roses. And I looked at them and all I could think of was...” I couldn't finish the sentence.

He knew, though. He knew, because he sighed and rolled away from me until he was standing once again, pacing the length our bed. I shifted until I was kneeling at the foot of it, sheets pooling around my thighs. For a few moments, he was just silent, until he finally turned to me with a sharp glint in his eyes.

“Why couldn’t you have just tried? Held it together, for once?”

My expression dropped into a placid, stony one, filled with contempt. It was like all the blood left my veins and I was left with only icy, lethal disdain. “I’m sorry if I inconvenienced you today. Really. My panic is completely controllable, I just decided, I chose to make a fool of myself in front of you and all your friends.” Then I stood, unable to be beneath him, below him. I saw, I saw the rage that was beginning to burn his eyes, and I knew what it would bring—

And I didn’t care.

“Why aren’t we talking about the fact of how you inconvenienced me today, Tamlin? About how that bullet that nearly killed me was all because of the situation you put me in? For your company, and yourself?”

He pointed an accusatory finger at me as the blood filled his face. “You don’t get to say that. Everything I do is for you. For us. Don’t you dare tear me apart for the sacrifices I make.”

I laughed bitterly. “Sacrifice? You sit up in your ivory office pushing papers, signing deals and sweet talking crooked businessmen while I am nearly beaten to death in the trenches of your dirty work. So don’t fucking utter that word around me ever again.”

I turned away, prepared to barricade myself in the bathroom, take a cold shower maybe to cool the rage simmering my blood. Only I felt his hand wrapping around my wrist, pulling me back to face him.

Before I knew it, I was against the wall, clutching at the hand wrapped around my neck, squeezing.

No air. There was no air in my lungs, and I choked, sobbed, eyes wide with panic as Tamlin’s furious face was all I could see. Black spots danced at the edge of my vision, and I kicked, kicked with all my might—

He released me. I fell to the floor, hacking, heaving, trying to shove as much air as possible in and out of my chest. Everything burned, and my fingers felt numb. Tamlin didn’t say a word as I kneeled there, a trembling hand running over the aching skin of my neck.

He didn’t say a word as he walked away.

I’d pushed him. I’d pushed him too hard, and I knew how he’d react. I knew he’d do this.

In the distance, a door slammed shut, and I knew he’d be sleeping on the couch in his study, tonight.

I didn’t care.

I didn’t care as I pulled myself up and half staggered into the washroom. I didn’t care as tears streamed down my cheeks, descending my bruised neck tentatively as if not to disturb the skin anymore than it’d already been violated. I didn’t care as I drew a bath, sank into its waters, and stared up at the ceiling wishing the human body wasn't so adamant on staying alive, that I could breathe the water into my weak lungs and finally have it all be over.

I didn’t care about what Tamlin had done to me. Not anymore. Because the cruel, black wicked part of my soul, the one that murmured in my ear every waking second—butcher, killer, murderer of innocents—

It knew. It knew that I deserved it.

[bookaholic1012]

Prythian Magazine Part 13

A/N: Andromache makes in appearance. She is a part of Day Court because I feel like if she were fae, that would be the court she would be a part of. Feysand/Vamren/Andromor moments happen. The meeting will occur in the next chapter! Hope y'all enjoy!

Tagging: @sugarcoated44 @unicornbooks @ourbooksuniverse @ame233

If you want to be tagged or no longer want to be, let me know!

PM Masterlist  Writing Masterlist

“What in the hell are you two doing here?” Feyre demanded.

Elain revealed the issue with them on it. “When I was walking home, I saw this. I thought you two were still together, so I picked it up to read the article. What Tamlin said didn’t sound like you. Nesta and I went to Tamlin’s to find you, but you were gone. Tamlin told us you were in Night Court.”

“How did you find me?”

Nesta spoke up. “You always spoke about that friend of yours from the Night Court. It wasn’t hard to find where she lived considering her fame.”

“So, what? After years of shutting me out, you think you have a right to know what happened?”

“We’re your family, Feyre. We’re sisters.” Elain said as a means of explanation.

“Are you kidding me?” Feyre felt her temper rise. “Sisters? Family? You honestly have the nerve to call the three of us that? Where was my family when Mom died? When Dad was admitted to rehab? When I went out every single day since I was fourteen to find multiple jobs to support us? The both of you never lifted a finger; never asked once if I needed help. Nesta, you were nineteen, and you were eighteen, Elain! You were both fully capable of getting jobs to support the four of us!”

“We were busy with college.” Nesta argued, clenching and unclenching her jaw.

“And what? I had all the time in the world? I had shit to do! I also had school to focus on!” Feyre shouted.

“We’re sorry, Feyre.” Elain said.

“Sorry?” Shrieked Feyre. “I don’t need your fucking apologies! What I needed was for my sisters to be there for me. To help me!”

“Feyre, please let us in so we can talk.” Begged Elain.

“No. I don’t want to talk to you guys, let alone have you inside my-- Mor’s-- house.”

Hurt was evident in Elain’s eyes. “I know we made a mistake, Fey, but--”

“Don’t call me that.” Feyre snapped.

“Come on, Elain.” Nesta said, reaching for her sister’s arm. “It’s clear Feyre doesn’t want us here.”

“Feyre, please.” Whispered Elain.

“Good-bye.” Was all Feyre said before slamming the door shut.

She paced around the house, not bothering to wipe the tears rolling down her pale cheeks. Feyre had often wondered what would happen if she encountered her sisters; this was not at all what she thought.

What did I expect? She thought. Feyre knew she would confront them about all the years they let Feyre do the work, but she didn’t expect it to go this way. Yet, a weight seemed to be lifted off her shoulders. It felt good to yell at them, to express her thoughts.

A knock sounded at the door. Feyre hastily wiped the tears and rushed to the door.

“I told you guys to le-- oh, Rhys.”

“Hello, Feyre darling.” Rhys greeted, his violet eyes narrowing. “Are you crying? What happened?”

“I…”

“Sorry,” He interrupted. “That’s nosy. Don’t feel obligated to answer, just ignore that.”

Despite her mood, Feyre’s lips tugged upwards. “It’s alright. Do you want to come in?”

“Yes. I mean, I came to talk to you, but if you want to be alone I understand. I can just come back later, or never, or whenever you want to see me. Not that you have to of course, I just mean that if you don’t want company--” Rhysand rambled.

“Rhys! It’s okay. You can come in.” Feyre chuckled.

Rhys stepped in, keeping his head down. Feyre didn’t missed his colored cheeks, though.

“Awww. Is someone blushing?” She teased.

“W-what? N-no! I’m just hot.” Rhys sputtered.

“Sure.”

The pair sat down on the couch. A beat of silence passed before Rhys spoke again.

“Feyre… if you aren’t feeling alright, then maybe I should go. What I want to take to you about will probably upset you more.”

“Rhys, just tell me.”

Rhys took out his phone and pulled something up before showing Feyre. The picture on his phone felt like a punch to the gut. It was the same photo Elain showed her. The same one Amren brought to her. The one she looked at every night wondering: Why? Why did he do this? How could he?

I warm hand cupped her cheek, thumb wiping away tears she didn’t realize were falling.

“I’m so sorry, Feyre. I don’t want you to hurt more, but I thought you would want to know.”

“I do.”

“What?”

Feyre met Rhys’s worried gaze. “On my first day, Amren came into my dressing room. She showed me the magazine. I wanted to tell you guys, but didn’t know how.”

Rhys reached to pull Feyre into a hug but stopped short. “May I?” He asked.

Feyre nodded, extending her arms out to Rhys. He enveloped her in a warm, welcoming embrace.

“I don’t know why I still get upset. I mean, Amren said that there was a part of me that still loved Tamlin-- the one I used to love. I thought I would be over it by now.”

“It will likely take a while to get over the pain, Darling.”

They parted, but stayed close to one another.

“Will you stay here? I would actually like some company.”

“Of course, Feyre darling.”

“Varian? It’s Amren.”

“I know who it is, Amren. I have you in my contacts. Your name pops up when you call.” Varian explained, obvious amusement in his deep voice.

“Shut up.” Amren snapped.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Listen, Varian, what do you know about Anthony Hybern?” Amren inquired. Silence answered.

“You can talk now, you ass.” Amren said.

“Is that how you should treat your boyfriend?” Varian joked. “But I do know a lot about Hybern.”

“What?”

“Well, he is a shady businessman. He makes it his job to trick big companies into signing contracts that put them out of business. Hybern is also filthy rich, which makes it easy for him to buy people’s silence. The man also has contacts everywhere.”

“I know all that. Is there anything else you know?” She inquired.

“Ummm… oh! I overheard Tarquin talking about how Hybern is teaming up with the Spring Court Agency for something. I’m not sure what specifically is going on between the two. Sorry, babe.”

“No worries. I’ll find out.”

“You always do. I love you, Amren. Bye.” Varian said.

“Love you, too.” Amren answered before hanging up.

Amren sent out a group e-mail to the Inner Circle.

Group meeting. Tomorrow at noon. Bring Feyre and Lucien.

Amren was ticked off at how secretive the meeting between Hybern, Tamlin, and Ianthe. She knew one thing for sure though. Something horrible is going to happen. Something that may ruin the Night Court.

Azriel exited Tamlin’s mansion like shadows. In and out. He finished hooking up the microphones and video recorders in various places around his home, especially the office. He checked the black watch on his wrist: 4:57. A little more than an hour before the meeting would take place.

Azriel got into his sleek black Jaguar and drove far away, but still in range of the Bluetooth recorders. He pulled out his battered copy of The Lord of the Rings and settled in.

“When Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced…”

Mor was stuck. She knew how she wanted the dress to look like, but she wasn’t sure how to do express it.

I need a break, She decided.

At that moment, her phone rang. She smiled at the screen before answering.

“Hey, Andromache!”

“Mor! Hi!” Andromache’s honey-like voice answered.

“What’s up?” Mor asked.

“Well, I finished up a fitting for the Day Court fashion show. Today was the last day for it and Helion just informed everyone that we have a vacation for the next week and a half, so I can come up to your place.”

“That’s awesome!” Mor exclaimed. “I can’t wait to see you again!”

“Same. I’ve missed you.”

“Me, too. It sucks we both work so much.” Mor sighed.

“Yeah, but at least we can see each other soon.”

“Do you want me to come down and pick you up? Or will you drive yourself?”

“I’ll drive up. I have to go now. I’ll talk to you later?”

“Yeah.” Mor said. “I love you.”

“And I you.”

The call ended leaving Mor feeling down. She wished their lives weren’t so busy. She missed when they first met in college and could hang out more often. This was her passion, though, and modeling was Andromache’s. If doing what they loved meant not spending much time together, then so be it.

The sound of knuckles rapping on a wooden door filled the silence.

“Come in.” Mor called.

Clotho appeared in the doorway with a note clutched in her hands.

“Hello, Clotho.” Mor smiled. Clotho nodded her head in greeting.

When Mor was starting out as a designer, she found Clotho being brutally attacked by a gang of males. She rescued her and helped her heal in whatever way she could. Clotho couldn’t speak afterwards and her hands were injured. Mor offered her a job so Clotho could provide for herself. She accepted a position as the secretary.

Clotho held out a note for Mor. After the attack, Clotho thankfully regained usage of her hands. Now, she communicates using writing.

Someone’s waiting for you in the lobby. was scrawled across the lined paper.

Mor got a sense of déjà vu. She remembered this situation from when Feyre and Lucien first came the week prior.

Mor thanked Clotho and practically ran out of her office. She was burning with curiosity. When Mor saw who was waiting for her, she came to a sudden halt.

“Andi!” She gasped.

Her girlfriend looked over. “Surprise!”

“Oh my god! What are you doing here?” Mor asked rushing over to embrace Andromache.

“I told you I was on vacation!” Andromache laughed.

“Yeah, but I thought you were coming later.” Said Mor.

“I didn’t want to waste any time, so I drove up as soon as Helion dismissed us.” Andromache explained, bending down to kiss Mor on her full lips.

Mor felt so relieved to be in her girlfriend’s arms. It felt right.

“So, do you need to work, or are you done for the day?” Andromache asked.

“I was just working on designs. I can finish them at home. Let me just run up and get my sketches.” Mor said, turning around to head to her office.

“I’m coming with you!” Andromache called, jogging to meet Mor.

Lucien sat on the wooden bench in Velaris Park. He didn’t know how far he walked nor how long he was gone for. All Lucien knew was that he needed to get fresh air.

When he used to live in Autumn Court, Lucien would walk to get out from the house where he was treated like dirt. It helped clear his mind. After the night he had, Lucien desperately needed a walk. He kept remembering conversations he and Cassian had.

“Why do you want to talk to me?” Lucien asked.

“We don’t really know each other.” Cassian explained. “It’s easier to talk about stuff to people who don’t really know you that well, and I have shit I need to get off my chest.”

Half of Lucien was honored Cassian came to confide in him. The other was telling him that Cassian only came to talk, not because he wanted to be with Lucien.

“Like what?” Lucien inquired.

“I was seeing this man, Christopher. No one knew about him. I’m not sure why, but recently I’ve been wanting to find someone to settle down with. I’m twenty-seven, Foxboy. I always thought I would’ve found someone by now; have a family with them.” He said.

“Did it not work out between you two?”  

“No. I didn’t feel anything for him and I’ve been dating him for two weeks. It seems short, but I thought I would’ve had some sort of feelings for him, ya know. I guess after years of sleeping with people only, I’m so used to that notion of not getting feelings for anyone, that I’m incapable of being in a loving relationship.”

Lucien didn’t know how to respond to that. He put a hand on Cassian’s shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze.

“I’ve seen you with your friends, Cassian. You are capable of loving. Maybe all you need is the right person.”

Cassian turned to lock eyes with Lucien. They looked into each other’s eyes for who knows how long. He could’ve sworn Cassian leaned forward a centimeter, but the moment was over in a blink of an eye.

Lucien snapped out the memory. He and Cassian stayed up for a long time after that, talking about anything or just enjoying each other’s company. At least, Lucien hoped Cassian enjoyed being with Lucien.

Lucien got up from the bench and started walking back to Mor’s place. As he headed back, Lucien kept his mind focused away from the feelings bubbling up inside him.

Feelings that have been dormant since Andras died.

Please let me know your thoughts! Updates weekly on Saturdays!

Much love,

bookaholic1012