#we crackplotted a crackship..... SO HAVE A CRACKSHIP REPLY

[seaofechoes]

@cursebreakerxx​ said:    ❛ I can't help but think of you. ❜

░▒▌╳▐ ᴀ ᴢ ʀ ɪ ᴇ ʟ

      𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃 her wings, it was to assert that the feel of them was right. Scarred fingers and palms were light as feathers over the sensitive surface, careful but quick in their assessment. How impressed Azriel was when that closer inspection confirmed that the female successfully shaped them with  DETAIL  that only an artist could have the skilled eye for. Several days have passed since they began training, and Feyre's been steadily getting used to the surprising strain that the weight of Illyrian wings can have on one's physique. It's her  FRUSTRATION  that did increase quicker than the progress she likely felt was lacking as she, yet again, collided wing and side first against a pine tree. Cursing at the crunching sounds that reached all the way to where he'd been sharpening Truth-Teller's blade, the Shadowsinger  SWIFTLY  sheathes the dagger before gracefully gliding down to her side.

Kneeling, the male waits while she begins to gather herself, evidently stunned by the crash but it's a hissing sound of  PAIN  that escapes instead. Her legs give out before she can even use them for support but his arms are there—Slipping under her shoulders to hold her up against himself. ❝ You're all right, ❞ Az murmurs, and she would be, once her fae body's natural healing kicks in in the next instants. The sudden proximity and the  WARMTH  mixing with her scent, however; immediately conjures memories of the past months, or more particularly, the past weeks. Their gazes meeting across the rooms, the table. Feyre standing next to him despite of how the Spymaster often kept to the edges of their group, his shadows finding  DELIGHT  in her company. From the first time Rhys introduced them all, they've been  CURIOUS  about her, peering over his shoulders content to watch, because she was simultaneously like and unlike others. They would watch her more than the others, whisper of her own gaze wandering to where he stood, only to dart away when he looked back.

But lately, she's held his eyes, and what he'd glimpsed in them would make something stir inside him. A  LONGING,  is how he'd describe it. The incidents were happening too frequently for it all to be a mistake or coincidence; the latter being something that he's learned to not believe in anyway. And these training sessions exacerbated whatever the female has brought to life through those glances and touches alone. Being so close now, feeling how she doesn't move away once steadied by his strong arms but rather leans in, her face tilted enough to stare into hazel hues—Azriel's very skin begins to  BURN  with the heat coursing through his veins. Feyre must see it flash through his eyes before it disappears behind a beautiful mask of calm, and those words she utters are proof of that, they must be. They were things he’d only allow himself to think of when alone in his room. With the image of her eyes lingering on him, oblivious to how the male was well aware of how she was  ADMIRING  him. Him, and not Rhys, whom he  KNOWS  feels something he cannot quite decipher yet for the newest member of their court. And she doesn't seem to be reciprocating whatever it is.

It's that unknown factor that renders him at odds with the  WANT,  the hunger. It's what holds him back from acting, even though it's not enough to have him move away. A beat of silence fills the space but his hands move, slowly sliding down the curve of her waist to rest upon the rise of her hips. Az didn't allow his gaze to lower and follow the gesture, not wanting to see the marred skin of his hands there. Not when her breath catches in a way that has her full lips part. The sight is likely what's responsible for what he does next, or maybe it's how she relaxes against him and her breasts press to his chest. Truthfully, now that they are alone, he doesn't care, and so he asks. Because he  NEEDS  to know.

         ❝ ...What have you been thinking? ❞