What If It's Us? [Chapter 2]
Word Count: 2268 | Master List
Write's Notes: Hi friend! To answer your question, I got candy cane (red & white) inspired nails! They are very pretty, but def not for writing and editing. I feel like it takes me twice as long to do things now! UGH. BUT at least they are pretty! đ
Anyway! I hope you enjoy this conclusion! I was going to make it angsty, but I love Feyre and Rhys so much that it's just a hallmark story at this point. Just happy happy vibes! @rosanna-writer @acotargiftexchange
A year. She had a year. She didnât need to worry about making that phone call right now. There was time to rest, time to plan, and later, time to figure out what things meant or didnât mean at all. For all Feyre knew, the person she was thinking of might not be meant for her at all. Yet, Cassianâs words echoed in her head.
Well, if Iâm calling her, you should call him.
With a resigned sigh, Feyre reclined on her queen-sized bed, the plush comfort enveloping her. She turned her gaze upward, captivated by the hand-painted stars glimmering on her ceiling, a night sky she had carefully crafted upon moving into her city apartment. Each twinkling dot was imbued with glow-in-the-dark paint, mirroring the ethereal glow of true stars outside. They provided her a sense of comfort, as if the cosmos itself were keeping watch. Often, in moments of solitude, she would confide her most intimate secrets to these luminescent orbsâsecrets she was too afraid to share with the real stars outside her balcony.
Yet, as her thoughts stirred, doubt buzzed incessantly in her mind, akin to a swarm of busy bees weaving through blooming spring flowers. Each worry cascaded through her consciousness like honey spilling from a jar, sticky and suffocating, leaving traces of unease clinging to her. Feyre, ever the fierce creature, resisted the onslaught and cast those thoughts aside. She would find her soulmate; there was no doubt about it in her heart. She could feel it in her soul. All she needed to do was center herself.Â
Feyre let out a frustrated sigh as her phone buzzed again with an incoming call. It had already been too much for one morning; all she craved was a moment to rest before the day truly began. Closing her eyes, Feyre inhaled deeply and worked on calming down her nerves.
Feyre sighed. âWrong number, Cassian.âÂ
âIâll be sure to let him know you donât feel the same way,â said a melodious voice.
A warm tingle traveled down her spine.
âRhys?â she breathed, her heart skipping a beat.
âFeyre.â The voice was infused with a familiarity that felt both comforting and electrifying.
âSorry, I just hung up with Cassian and figured that he had butt-dialed me.â
A brief silence enveloped them, a tangible pause filled with unspoken words.
âAnd how did that call go?â Rhysand asked after a pause.
âAs well as youâd expect. Turns out Iâm not the love of his life.â Reaching for her silk robe, Feyre made her way across the room and onto her balcony window. There was a need inside her to feel the glow of the actual night sky on her skin. Leaning against her balcony, she relished the sensation of the cool night air brushing against her, a vivid reminder of the outside world. âThat being said, if you havenât spoken to him yet, thereâs still a slight chance it could be you.â
âAre you standing outside, Rhys?âÂ
âItâs like a superpower, you know. The fact that you can always tell when Iâm looking at the stars, searching for answers.â
âItâs okay to be predictable. I like predictability.â I like predicting you. Feyre could almost swear the stars above began to sparkle brighter at her words. Shaking her head, she dismissed the thought and settled on a more realistic explanation: the excess city lightsâfrom car headlights and porch lights to street lamps and fairy lights strung up on restaurant patios. Light pollution felt far more believable than the magic woven into her thoughts.
Wrapping her cerulean robe snugly around her shoulders, Feyre took a deep breath of the cool night air, a contrast to the heat of the bustling city below. She leaned against the fire escape railing, a favorite spot of hers. âIâm currently standing above my fire escape, looking up at the stars, hoping theyâll make this year go by faster. Theyâre making me feel like I shouldâŚmake a wish or recite poetry.â
âPoetry?â Rhys chuckled. âWhy not both, then?â
The scent of lavender drifted soothingly around her as Feyre shifted closer to the blooming flowers on the edge of the balcony. Her hand-painted pots, each a burst of color, sat serenely in the corner, soaking in the moonlight that graced the Spring equinox. The thought of Rhys indulging her whims stirred something warm in her chest. Feyre bit the inside of her cheek as her mind searched for a passage to recite. Leaning against the railing, she began:
âI saw the land in the evening,Â
where the stars their courses go,Â
and every star, like a lantern,Â
guided where the oceans flow.â
âEmily Dickinson,â Rhys hummed thoughtfully. âIsnât that from the piece where she seeks divine guidance from the stars?â
âThe very one,â answered Feyre. If she were being honest, she felt a bit like Emily Dickinson now, praying to the heavens for advice. As an avid reader, Feyre understood that answers could often be found in books. But the answers she sought now were not in hidden pages. Sighing, Feyre wondered if she should take a page from Emily Dickinson and contemplate the stars for direction.
âAnd have they?â asked Rhys.
âOffered advice, I mean.â
She paused for a moment, contemplating his question. âI think itâs too soon to tell.â
Rhys chuckled softly, the sound warm and familiar, even through the distance. âWell, then. I think you should make a wish in the meantime. While the stars get back to you.â The faint chatter of distant voices echoed around him, the sounds of the bustling city creating a symphony of life on his side of town.
Pushing off from the railing, Feyre groaned. âI wish you were here.â
The moment the words left her lips, she inhaled sharply, surprised by her own impulsiveness. What had compelled her to say such a thing? Had she truly meant it? The thought had lingered in her mind, but vocalizing it felt like crossing an unspoken boundary. Squeezing her eyes shut, she silently cursed her own impulsiveness, wishing she could snatch the phrase back and rewind to just two seconds prior, before her heart had gotten ahead of her mind.
âWell, I am on your side of town right now,â Rhys replied nonchalantly, but her heart sank at the implication.
What was Rhys doing on her side of town? More importantly, what was he doing out this late at night? A wave of anxiety crashed over her; what if he was searching for his soulmate? The thought made her stomach twist uneasilyâhad he found her and was now on his way back from her apartmentâŚÂ
Peering down from her window, Feyre scanned the darkened streets, her heart racing. And then she spotted him. A familiar figure emerged from the shadows, one hand tucked casually into the pocket of his black hoodie, the other holding his phone to his ear. Even beneath the dim streetlights, Rhysand's violet eyes shimmered with an almost ethereal glow, capturing her attention like a moth to a flame.Â
A sense of calm and wholeness spread throughout her body, from the tip of her toes to the top of her head. Feyreâs voice was quiet, somewhere between a whisper and a prayer. âRhys.â
His voice echoed hers, low and teasing. âWhy are we whispering?â
Feyre blinked once, twice, and then covered herself as best as she could, realizing she was wearing a nightgown and a robe. Not that Rhysand could see her from the street corner, but suddenly, self-consciousness crept in.
âWill you let me up?â asked Rhysand over the phone line.
The wind rustled her hair, brushing it back from her shoulders and sending a shiver down her spine. She had mere seconds to make a decision. With a mix of hesitation and exhilaration, Feyre carefully placed her phone on the edge of the window, hanging up the call and lowering the escape ladder. Seek. Seek the truth, whispered something inside her.
âWhat are you doing on this side of town?â The words escaped her lips as soon as Rhysand finished climbing to her floor. If they were soulmates, Rhys would be unable to lie. Yet, if he lied, the answer to the burning question inside of Feyre would be answered, and nothing between them would change.
Rhys raised the ladder and ensured it was securely in place before locking it into position. With his back turned to her, he took his time with the procedure before slowly turning to face her.Â
âI was hoping the city would give me the answers.â Starlight sparkled in his eyes.
Not a lie, but a clever omission.Â
âAnd has it?â Feyre tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
The scent of lavender and jasmine filled the air as a gentle breeze swept through the potted plants. Rhysand took a deep breath, his violet eyes fixed on Feyre as his chest slowly rose, as if he were mustering the courage for something. Captivated by him, Feyre simply stared back. Silence enveloped them, with only the sound of their breathing filling the immediate space between them beneath the moonlight.Â
It was almost as if time had stopped.
After a moment, Rhysand reached towards one of the orchids, his fingers delicately lifting the petals as if he were handling a fragile secret. With a gentle pluck, he detached the mauve flower and stepped closer, closing the distance between them. He tucked the bloom behind her ear, his fingers grazing her skin, sending a ripple of warmth through her. For an instant, he lingered there, inhaling the electric space that enveloped them. Breaking the silence, Rhysandâs voice filled the space:
âStars, hide your fires;
Let not light see my black and deep desires.â
Feyreâs lips parted as if to speak, but no words came. Emily BrontĂŤ. Leaning closer towards his hand, Feyreâs cheek filled his palm. His words were laden with unspoken thoughtsâdeep desiresâmuch like the stars reflected in his eyes that withheld other secrets. The stars in the poem were things left unsaid like the truthâsomething they both were desperately seeking. Feyre's voice was low as she whispered his name.
âWhat are you really doing on this side of town?â
Rhysandâs eyebrows furrowed, but his gaze never left hers. Much like Emily BrontĂŤ, he was grappling with his words. There was a secretâa truthâon the tip of his tongue that yearned to escape him that night. âAre you really going to make me say it?â
Feyre felt her heart slowly begin to race, each beat thundering against her ribcage. She wanted to hear the words. She wanted to know the truth more than anything. No matter the cost. Because what if the cost was worth it? What if the truth was worth knowing?Â
âWhat if itâs us, Rhys?â Feyre whispered.
Rhysand bit the inside of his cheek, fighting an invisible force, the inevitableâthe truth. âYou know what it would mean once the words are out.â
âFeyre,â Rhysand swallowed. âIâm in love with you.â
There it wasâthe undeniable truth laid bare between them. The phrase echoed in Feyreâs mindâIâm in love with youâfilling the stillness between them. Instinctively, she lifted her hand to his cheek, mirroring his movements. She kissed the palm of his hand on her face and pressed her damp cheeks against his palm.
âI canât lie. Not when it comes to you. Not when Iâm with you. And I most certainly wouldnât lie about loving you,â Rhys continued. Starlight trickled down his cheeks with every word. With his other hand, he cupped Feyreâs hand closer to his face, kissing the inside of her palm. âWhen I called you, you were looking up at the stars and wishing. Why did you wish for me?â
Feyre felt the confession escape her lips like a releasing breath. âYou were the first personâonly personâon my mind when the clock struck midnight. I was secretly wishing it was you the entire time.â The words poured forth, steeped in sincerity, transforming the air around them into a sacred space where truths collided.Â
âWould you like that wish to be true, Feyre?â
âI would. I would like that very much.â
Above them, the night sky shimmered with a newfound brilliance, the stars twinkling like diamonds scattered across a velvet expanse. As if in response to their confessions, a luminous golden thread began to weave through the heavens, connecting each star with an ethereal glow. Suddenly, it surged toward them like a comet streaking through the cosmos, gracefully arcing toward the hands where Rhys and Feyre were intertwinedâa celestial sign of their destined paths. Golden flecks ignited, cascading over their fingers and tracing up their forearms, weaving an intricate tattoo of the soulmate constellation upon their skin, a mark of their unbreakable bond. Tears of joy continued to slip silently down Feyre's cheeks, soon accompanied by soft laughter that danced in the air as they admired the star-painted design.
âI wished on every star on the way here that it would be you,â Rhys admitted, his voice a gentle caress.
Closing the distance, Feyre tugged at the soft fabric of his black hoodie, drawing Rhys closer until the warmth of his body enveloped her. Their lips met in a passionate embrace, igniting a spark that reverberated between them. Rhys wrapped his arm around her waist, his fingers splayed against the curve of her back, drawing her in until they were completely intertwined, their heartbeats syncing in an exhilarating rhythm.
âItâs you,â Rhys murmured against her lips.
âItâs us,â Feyre replied, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
