#you guys need to remember that rhysand has never ONCE apologized for all the horrible actions he did to feyre

[thatpurpledudetrey]

nesta literally telling feyre that shes going to fucking died from the babe in an unpleasant way is literally just an argumental point for rhys stans to use to cover up the fact he LITERALLY hide a medical information from feyre?!?!?!? bro HE was the on who started this shit not fucking nesta????

it was rhysand's fault, he started this shit by being a stupid bitch who decided to not tell feyre

[snelbz]

Orchids and Ink - Chapter 1

A/N: Chapter 1 is finally here! Its been a long time, I know! But I’m back, you guys! Regular updates, I promise! If you haven’t had a chance to read the teaser, you can find it HERE! This weekend has just been a bit hectic, with my friend getting in the car accident, so I apologize for not getting the update out yesterday! I hope you all enjoy this and I’m hoping to start a tag list for Chapter 2! If you’ve requested to be tagged previously, I’ve got you on the list!

The bell above the door jingled and Elain ran back to the front of the store from the small back office she’d been eating her lunch in. A familiar head of red hair was looking at an arrangement of camellias and lilies, and she leaned against the counter as he looked over the flowers. They were hues of gold, orange and red, reminding her of fire — and of the man looking them over.

“Looking to be one of my first purchases?” She said, and he spun on his heel, looking at her. Elain took in his khaki slacks, crisp pale blue button-down, and clean loafers, the way his long red hair was tied back at the nape of his neck. There were many things to be said about Lucien Vanserra, but no one could doubt that the man knew how to dress.

His eyebrow quirked up as he made his way to the counter. He leaned on the glass until he was level with Elain’s eyes. “One of? I won’t be the first?”

“Nope,” she said, popping her lips on the ‘p’. “Afraid not. A sweet older gentleman came in this morning and bought a dozen roses for his wife for their 40th anniversary.”

“How sweet of him,” he said, running a finger down the delicate petal of an orchid in an arrangement. “Well, since I wasn’t able to be your first sale, how about I take you to lunch? I don’t have to be back at the office until 11:30.”

Elain resisted the urge to look over her shoulder at the sad, wilted lettuce that could barely be called a salad she’d been eating only moments before. She wanted to go with him, she really did.

She loved nothing more than spending time with Lucien. He’d been her best friend since the first day of her sophomore year at Velaris High School after the Archeron’s had moved for their father’s new job. He was an office assistant and had been her guide around the school. She’d fallen in love with him almost immediately. They flirted and he took her dinner a lot, but she had no clue how he felt about her, even after 8 years of friendship. They���d been there for each other through breakups and horrible first dates. He’d been her shoulder to cry on when her long-term boyfriend had broken up with her to transfer to a college in another state. He’d helped keep her mind off of Greyson with movies and putt-putt and dinners. He’d helped her study for her midterms and had been her biggest cheerleader during finals. He yelled the loudest at her graduation, shocking since both of her sisters were there.

But he’d never asked her on an official date. There’d been a hundred nights where they’d fallen asleep on the couch, curled against each other, but the next morning, when one of them was gone, they never talked about it. They went on with their days as if nothing happened.

“Sure,” she smiled. “Lunch sounds wonderful. There’s a little cafe on the other side of the Square.” She pointed at a little restaurant situated catty-corner from her shop. He nodded and held out an arm. She glanced at it and blushed, but covered her embarrassment by walking behind the counter and grabbing her purse. “I need to set the alarm real quick. Step out front and I’ll be right there.”

He did as he was told and Elain ran into the office and punched her newly memorized code into the keypad. Once the code was set, she had 30 seconds to get out the door. It was plenty of time, but she still rushed every time.

Blowing out the door, she turned to find Lucien - and smacked directly into a wall of hard muscle.

She jumped back, a warm wetness, running down her chest and stomach. Coffee was all over her white shirt and splattered onto her jeans and shoes.

“Oh my, God, I'm sorry!”

“I’m so sorry, holy shit.”

She and the other person both began to apologize immediately.

“It’s my fault, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” he said, as she looked down at her ruined clothes. She only lived about 15 minutes from the shop. She could run home and change, but it wouldn’t really give her any time with Lucien for lunch. She looked up at the stranger and her mouth dried up.

His dark hair was messy, in a deliberate way, and it kept falling into his eyes. His hazel eyes were watching her every move, calculating, as if he was making sure she was okay. Black ink was peeking out of his t-shirt and she could see it slinking down his arms and into the black, fingerless gloves he wore. One of the two piercings just under his bottom lip moved as he chewed on it, worry on his handsome face.

She swallowed and remembered she could speak. “No, no, it’s fine. I shouldn’t have been rushing.”

“Elain, are you okay?” Lucien asked, finally stepping into the conversation.

“Yeah, but my shirt,” she said. “It’s ruined. I’ll have to run home and change.”

“You’re Elain?” asked the stranger. A faint, pink blush was coloring his cheeks.

She nodded. He held out a hand.

“Not exactly how I’d liked to have met you, but I’m Azriel. I own Illyrian Ink.” He tossed a thumb over his shoulder toward the doors.

“It’s nice to meet you, I met your brother earlier, uh.” Elain was drawing a blank on the violet eyes man’s name.

“Rhysand,” he supplied.

“Yes!” She said.

Azriel smiled. “Yeah, he likes to work the early shift. Hey, we’ve got some merch inside. Hats, stickers, t-shirts. I feel bad about ruining your shirt. Why don’t you take one of ours, that way you don’t have to go home?”

Looking down at her jeans and shoes, she saw that her shirt had taken the brunt of the mess. And that her baby blue bra was proudly on display through the thin, soaked material. She quickly covered her chest. “That would be wonderful. Thank you.” She turned to Lucien. “Why don’t you go ahead and head over to the cafè? I’ll be there in just a second.”

He nodded, but he didn’t seem to be listening to a word she was saying. His eyes were on Azriel’s shoulders as he headed towards Illyrian Ink’s glass doors.

“Luc?” She said, and his eyes snapped to hers. “Go. I’ll be right there.”

He nodded again and turned, heading off across the Square.

Azriel was waiting at the doors and Elain walked over to him. He held the door open for him and she walked inside.

Illyrian Ink was….not what she was expecting. It was bright and open and - well - clean. She could hear the quiet buzzing of a tattoo gun from somewhere in the building, but couldn’t pinpoint where exactly it was coming from.

“Good morning, Az,” a sing-song voice came from behind the main counter. A black haired beauty, who seemed to be only a few years younger than herself, popped her head up and dropped a stack of magazines on the glass counter. “Oh! Who’s your friend? And what happened to her shirt?”

“Morning, Reina. This is Elain, the new tenant next door.” He dropped his now-empty cup in the trash can next to the desk and stepped around Reina. “Elain, this is Reina, Rhysand’s sister. She’s our receptionist/social media guru/walking appointment book.” He bent down, digging in the glass case facing the front of the store. “What size shirt do you wear?”

“A small is fine,” Elain said and he pulled a couple of shirts out of the case. He handed her the smallest of the two and she noticed his shirt had gotten a good bit of coffee on it as well.

“You can go change in my room,”’he said and pointed down the hall. “It’s the door on the left-hand side.”

Elain nodded and went down the hall. She expected to see pictures of their tattoos on the wall, but instead, there was actual art. All delicate lines and shadows. Stopping at the door on the left, she knocked just in case before she twisted the knob. It wouldn't budge.

Making her way back to the front, she said, “It was locked, so I couldn’t-.”

She froze at the sight in front of her.

Intricate, black wings had been inked onto his back. They covered nearly all of the skin, save for his spine, which had rune-like tattoos etched in neat lines. He turned as she came around the corner and she was met with tanned skin, a tight, muscled abdomen and more ink covering his chest and arms.

She had forgotten how to speak again, so the fact that she was able to say, “Door was locked,” was a miracle in itself.

“Oh.” He moved into action, pulling the black t-shirt over his head and fishing his keys out of his pocket. He moved past her, his arm brushing against hers, and unlocked the door. “Sorry about that,” he said, and gave her a shy, crooked smile.

She stepped into his room and looked around. It was a bit darker than the rest of the shop, a dark grey paint covering the walls instead of the bright white in the rest of the shop.

“I’ll, uh, let you get changed,” he said and pulled the door shut.

Elain looked in the full-length mirror he had in the corner. Her jeans and shoes weren’t really too bad at all. Her shirt, however, it was done for.

She pulled the sopping wet material over her head, careful not to hit her hair, and dropped it into the empty trash can next to the door. She took a few paper towels from next to the sink and wet them, wiping the stickiness from her skin. Satisfied that she was as coffee-free as possible, she pulled the black t-shirt over her head. Looking in the mirror, she turned and saw that the back of the shirt had the same wings on it as Azriel had on his back.

After a minute, she came back up front and found that Azriel had disappeared, leave my just Reina in the front of the shop.

“Where did your brother go?” Elain asked, wanting to apologize one last time before she left.

Reina glanced up from where she was typing away on her laptop, a clear image of a college textbook on the display. “Rhys? Oh, he’s still with his 10:15 appointment.”

“No,” Elain said, quickly, needing to clarify, though she didn’t know why. “Azriel.”

“Oh!” Reina started laughing, and Elain didn’t understand why. “Azriel isn’t actually my brother! We all grew up in foster homes together, but Rhysand is my only blood relative.” She paused and smiled. “Cass and Az might as well be though, for how they threaten my dates.” There was affection in her voice and Elain could hear the love she had for the other two men.

“Well, will you apologize for me again? I have to go meet a friend for lunch.”

Reina smiled, her eyes, a shade darker than her older brother’s, sparkled. “Of course I will. And if you ever need anything, come over anytime. I’m here from 9-6, every weekday, and at least one of the guys is always in the building.”

Elain could feel the sincerity in the younger girl’s words. “I will. Thank you, Reina.”

“Hey, your friend?” She asked, playing with a piece of her dark hair. “Is he the one with the long red hair?”

Elain was surprised. “Yeah, that’s Lucien.”

“I just wondered. I saw him get out of his car. We don’t usually see people around him that dress as nicely as he does.”

With another dazzling smile, she waved to Elain, and Elain was out the door.

She stepped off the curb to cross over to the cafè, but hesitated, looking back to the tattoo shop.

She unlocked her door and ran inside, turning off the alarm and grabbing one of the mugs she had just brought from home.

She popped a pod into her coffee maker and brewed a fresh cup of coffee, grabbing a couple of sugar packets and the creamer out of her fridge. She tossed the creamer and sugar into a bag with her logo emblazoned on the front and grabbed the fresh cup of coffee. She made her way back over to Illyrian Ink, bumping the door open with her hip.

“Elain?” Reina was coming back up the hall from each of the appointment rooms.

“Would you mind giving this to Azriel? I feel bad that he didn’t get his morning coffee,” she said, setting the cup and bag down. “I didn’t know how he drank it, so I brought cream and sugar too.”

Reina’s dark eyes softened. “That was sweet of you, especially since he dumped it on you.”

Elain shrugged, not knowing why she was so determined to make something right that wasn’t actually her fault. “Like I said, I felt bad.”

“I’ll give it to him,” Reina said, smiling and taking the bag and flowery mug. “By the way,” she winked, backing towards the hall. “Black, with two sugars.” She winked and turned back down the hall, heading towards Azriel’s room.

Glancing at her watch, Elain realized she’d lost another 10 minutes of her time with Lucien.

She ran across the Square, and found him sitting at a table out front.

“Hey,” she smiled. “Sorry, I had to change and then I felt bad about his coffee, so I made him a fresh cup.”

Lucien’s returned smile was a bit forced. “That was nice of you.”

Lunch passed without event. Lucien talked, Elain listened, which is usually what happened when she had something on her mind. They walked back to her shop and she made him an arrangement of calla lilies and roses to take back to his office. He left, promising to call after he got off work and she went about her day as normal. She had a few more sales, and at the end of the day, she locked up and walked to her car.

She glanced over her shoulder, looking at the tinted windows of the tattoo shop, and knew at least one of them was still inside, thanks to the flashing open sign. Sighing, she got into her car and drove home.

When she pulled around the corner, she saw that both Nesta and Feyre’s cars were already in the driveway. Unpacking the car, she smiled, knowing they were going to be able to sit down and have dinner together, just like they used to.

The Archeron girls never imagined they’d be living together in their twenties, but since they all moved to the same city around the same time, it made sense, both financially and logistically. Feyre and Nesta both attended the University of Velaris, the former getting her undergrad and the latter, her masters. Feyre worked at the local art studio, spending her life amongst her precious paints. Nesta was a bartender at a dive just off campus. When Feyre and Elain left for work or class in the morning, Nesta was still asleep for hours.

“I’m home,” she called, hanging her keys on the hook by the door.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” Nesta hollered back, while Feyre cried, “Come tell us about your first day!!”

Elain lovingly rolled her eyes at her sisters as she walked into the kitchen. Nesta was busy at the stove, while Feyre was laying tortillas and topping out on the counter. Elain took a deep breath in through her nose, the scent of tacos and refried beans filling her senses.

A glass of wine was in her hand before Elain had even had a chance to sit down, thanks to Feyre and the twin glass in her own hand.

And so the story of her day began, from the violet-eyed Rhys to Lucien’s surprise visit, to the mysterious Azriel who spilled an entire cup of coffee on Elain’s favorite white t-shirt. She just left out the fact that he was ridiculously handsome.

Feyre’s day of classes was pretty normal and she had the day off of work tomorrow, so she promised to come see Elain.

“How was your night, Nesta?” Elain asked, refilling her glass of wine.

“Awful,” she gritted out. Both Feyre and Elain paused to look at each other.

“Why’s that?” Feyre asked, hesitation in her voice.

“This… This…asshole was sitting at the bar the whole night. He only had, like, two beers in the hours he was there and every time I asked him if he needed anything, he’d say ‘your companionship,’ or ‘your phone number,’ or some other cheesy line like that.” She paused to take a large gulp of her wine. “I told him I only date classy guys. He told me he was classy. That he was a ‘business owner’.” She threw air quotes around the offending words. “Please. He was an egocentric pretty boy who wouldn’t know class if it kneed him in the balls.”

Elain just stared at Nesta while Feyre stared at her. Nesta kept tracing the pattern on the tablecloth.

“Well,” Feyre finally said, lifting her glass. “Here’s to tomorrow being completely uneventful. Just a normal day in Velaris for all of us.”

They clinked their glasses together and drank. Little did they know, normal would never be the same.

[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.

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Much love,

bookaholic1012