Summary: Azriel bumps into his tipsy mate on a night out. The IC don't know she exists.
A/N: I am 100% picturing the blumarine dress of my dreams... also apologies to anyone with purple hair....
Azriel had stopped listening to the conversation at the table the moment you twirled into peripheral view. One second you were laughing with one group, the next you’d somehow folded yourself into another like you’d been with them all along. You move through the dancefloor collecting people as you go, hands flying as you recount wildly animated stories one after another.
Cassian pushes back from the table mid-argument with Mor about whose turn it is to get drinks. “She’s going to notice you staring eventually.” He mutters into Azriel’s ear on his way past.
“I’m not staring” Azriel responds flatly.
Cassian snorts in disbelief at the lie. “You are absolutely staring!”
Mor leans over Nesta, peering through the crowd until she spots you. “Go say hi. She’s hot… I might go introduce myself if you don’t” she wriggles her eyebrows at Azriel as if that will encourage him to talk to anyone.
Azriel finally drags his attention away from you just long enough to shoot her a look. “You wouldn’t survive five minutes.”
“Rude.” Mor says, offended but delighted with herself at getting such a reaction out of the Shadowsinger.
“I love her dress!” Feyre remarks enraptured by the sequin number.
As if on cue, you turn mid-sentence, mid-gesture and spot him in the crowd. Your entire face lights up as you lock eyes with him. You disentangle yourself from the group without missing a beat, patting someone’s arm, giggling at something else, then immediately setting your sights on the booth like it’s your next destination.
“She’s coming here.” Amren says eager to see if this is a complete disaster waiting to happen.
“I don’t think we have time for a lesson on how to flirt.” Rhysand giggles into his glass as he watches you weave through the crowd towards their table.
You arrive slightly breathless, instinctively latching onto the edge of the booth to disguise your slight sway. Your eyes are bright and unfocused in a way that even if you weren’t unstable on your feet, it’s clear you’ve been drinking.
“Budge up.” you mumble, already climbing into his space before he has a chance to move. Azriel shifts automatically, one hand finding your waist to steady you. He’s seen you drunkenly slide off of too many chairs to trust it won’t happen again.
“Who died?” you ask far too loudly. “Seriouslyyy, why is it so serious over here? Did someone start a war without me?”You look between them all for an answer as you lean further into Azriel.
Mor blinks, giving you a look of pure confusion as she asks, “Do we know you?”
“No but I feel like you’re already deciding if I’m worth the headache.” you grin totally unserious before you zero in on Azriel. “You definitely think I am, so, why do you look like the fun police?”
“I don’t disapprove of fun.” He says quickly, raising his hands in mock defence.
“Right… So, it’s a lifestyle choice not to engage?” You ask, nodding to yourself like that makes total sense.
You poke his chest, a smirk tugging at your lips like you’re about to say something you shouldn’t and absolutely will anyway. His hand comes up automatically to steady your wrist before you can jab him again, thumb brushing absentmindedly over your skin. He exhales softly through his nose resigned to your teasing.
“I’m just trying to work out if this is your personality or your current blood alcohol level.” Rhysand states leaning back in his chair while glaring at you like you’re under investigation.
“I wish I could blame the alcohol, but this is a combination of the two I’m afraid.” You wave a hand over yourself like it’s obvious before your attention drifts right back to Azriel as if Rhysand has already been dismissed.
“I didn’t expect to see you h-” Azriel starts.
“Ugh I know!” You cut him off with a shout right into his ear. He tenses instinctively as you lean closer, as if your tone isn’t already deafening.
“This place is overrated. I say it every time. And I’m totally right about that by the way. But Dean is flirting with the bartender like it’s a full-time job and it’s honestly painful to watch…like physically painful but yeah Rita’s was out of the equation which sucks because her food is amazing… Anyway long story short I’m here. You’re welcome.” You ramble as if this is a reasonable summary of your night so far.
Azriel’s mouth quirks as he looks over to the bar intrigued, “Which bartender?”
That earns him immediate reactions from his family.
Nesta slowly turns her head toward him and stares like he’s lost his mind for encouraging you to go on.
Feyre lets out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Is this what happens when you remove him from silence? Pure chaos.”
Rhysand leans forward, squinting between the two of you. “Wait is he actually invested in the bartender situation?”
“Is it the one with all the earrings?” Azriel asks you for clarification, giving you so much attention that it seems like this is genuinely important intelligence he needs to gather.
“Purple hair… I mean, that alone tells you everything you need to know about their life choices” You mutter making him laugh.
Your gossip is cut short when Cassian walks over with a tray full of drinks. “I left for five minutes and Azriel is laughing with a beautiful stranger.” Cassian says, staring like he’s witnessing an alternate reality. “Did he have a personality transplant while I was gone? And, sorry, did we acquire a new member of the Inner Circle in my absence?”
You smile innocently at him, “Don’t worry about that, Az said he doesn’t want to babysit another drink, so you can hand it over.”
“I did not say that!” Azriel says immediately as you down the shot that was meant for him. “You’re incorrigible - do you know that?”
“Whatever happened to what’s mine is yours?” You laugh, slipping a hand into his hair to smoothing it back absentmindedly like you’ve done it a hundred times before.
Everyone is so distracted by your audacity to touch Azriel that they don’t register your words. Feyre freezes mid-breath, already preparing damage control. Rhys leans forward. “Did she just…”
“You’re either very brave or very stupid.” Nesta mutters as they all watch Azriel for a reaction that never comes. Instead, he just looks at you entirely unbothered like nothing about this is strange.
You clutch a hand to your chest dramatically as you look to Nesta, “that’s genuinely, actually is one of the nicest things anyone’s said to me tonight.” Your laughter cuts off as quickly as it starts, as you rush to add “Also I actually get that A LOT!”
Rhys huffs a laugh. “Somehow, I can believe that.”
“I’m surprised you’re here; This isn’t really your scene.” you say to Azriel.
“Cassian gets antsy if we don’t let him out the house.” Mor supplies making you giggle.
“Totally off topic but your shoes are incredible.” Feyre remarks.
“I thought you liked the dress?” Mor asks quickly.
“If there’s one thing about this group we can appreciate a good outfit.” Amren comments to which they all nod.
“So many people have said that to me but if we’re being honest, I think they’re starting to cut off my circulation! Wait - do you think that can actually happen?” You ask looking to Azriel for an answer.
Refraining from saying he told you not to wear them, Az shakes his head at the question. “No, I don’t think you have to worry about that just yet.”
“Are you having a good night?” Azriel asks wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him to hear your answer over the music.
“Yeah, but I’m tired. Is that what happens when you get old?” You ask supressing a yawn.
Azriel exhales through his nose. “I’m two months older than you!”
“Don’t tell people how old I am, I have a terrible reputation to uphold Azriel!” you scold him before breaking into a fit of tipsy giggles and curling even closer into his side like it’s instinct.
“Oh, you’re very drunk y/n” Azriel mutters.
You laugh again. “It’s the two-month age gap… it makes me less responsible.”
“I’m not sure that’s how it works.” He says wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
“Oh, trust you to find him but lose your jacket” Dean mutters walking up to the table and throwing your jacket at you.
“My hero!” You yell back catching it without looking in his direction.
“Wait. No. This is wrong; why are there so many sleeves… ugh.” You struggle with it like it’s a puzzle for all of two seconds before Azriel quietly helps. “Thank you. I’ve gone super cold.”
“First my drink, now my jacket.” Azriel remarks looking at the familiar fabric drowning you.
“Next your dignity.” you mumble, smiling sleepily as you slump back into him.
“She’s efficient, I’ll give her that.” Cassian says proudly.
“She has no survival instinct” Amren comments. You grin at her like that’s a compliment.
“Anyway the purpose of the drop by is that Luna’s having an afterparty. Are you coming?” You ask Azriel.
Rhysand clears his throat to get your attention before he can answer. “Sorry, how exactly do you know each other?” Rhys pries.
“Please don’t tell us she’s one of your spies.” Amren mutters.
You open your mouth ready to say something flippant and deflective, but Azriel beats you to it. “She’s not a spy” he says, glancing at your glitter-covered outfit. “Look at her.”
“I feel a bit dizzy.” You admit abruptly. “So, is that a yes or a no Az? Because snacks are calling me.”
“Drink this.” He says suddenly holding a glass in front of your face.
“Is this water? See what I mean about the fun police now?” You remark humouring him by taking a sip.
“Trust me, you’ll thank me in the morning.” He counters.
“If I say no to Luna’s, will you go?” Azriel questions with a yawn of his own.
You shrug. “Yeah! If you go back to brooding in a booth while pretending you’re having fun, I’ll go to Luna’s and tell everyone I tried to save you from yourself.”
“What time did she want us there?” he asks.
“So, you’ll come?” you clarify.
“I can’t have you judging people without me, can I?” He asks much to your delight. You beam up at him, practically glowing, like that was the correct answer all along, and Azriel feels his heart go giddy in his chest.
“So what time are we leaving?” He repeats.
“Oh! She wanted everyone about an hour ago but…” Your eyes glance back to the bar for a second before you look back to Azriel. “Dean’s still flirting, so we have time. Wow he moves slow!” You sigh like he’s a personal disappointment.
“I think you should give him some tips Az. Like I said, this is fucking painful to watch!” you add seriously.
Azriel shakes his head, amused despite himself. “I am not giving him tips.”
“I didn’t say you have to flirt with him! Just go diffuse that situation… That’s your thing!” You instruct him, crossing your arms expectantly.
Cassian’s wheezes. “You cannot be serious. Azriel is not the guy you go to if you need help flirting.”
“Why? He’s good at it!” you shoot back immediately, offended on Azriel’s behalf.
Rhys slowly looks between the two of you. “He is?”
Cassian points at Azriel like he needs confirmation. “This one? This exact male? The one who avoids eye contact like it’s a sport?”
Feyre tries and fails not to laugh. “I’ve known him for years. I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen him flirt.”
You frown at them, confused. “What are you talking about? He flirts with me all the time!”
You practically feel the entire table collectively wince on your behalf. “Oh sweetheart… That does not help your case.” Cassian smiles at you giving you a look of pity, like you’ve said something you’ll regret in the morning.
Then Azriel leans down, close enough that his mouth is just by your ear as he mumbles, “Careful. You’re going to give away all my secrets.”
“You’re so cute it’s unreal.” You giggle smushing his cheeks together.
Rhysand expects his brother to bat your hand away instead Azriel takes your hands gently prying them off his face but not letting go.
“What if we blew off Luna’s and went home?” he asks quietly, giving you a look that practically shouts he’s ready to leave.
You watch him grab his jacket and call him out on what this really is. “Are you tired Az?”
“Yes. Don’t forget I am older” He winks at you like it’s a lie.
“Mm… Do we have snacks?” You ask him urgently.
His mouth twitches for a second before he answers “Yes. I’ll even make you something before you sleep so you’re not totally miserable tomorrow.”
“Okay. You’ve sold me!” You respond with a yawn.
Azriel reaches for the jacket already hanging off your shoulders, tugging it properly into place and smoothing it down like its habit. “Right then, I’m taking her home before she forgets how to walk. I trust you’ll all survive without me”
“He says that like he won’t pass out the second we get home. It’s bold of you to assume I’m the only liability here.” You dramatically roll your eyes.
Cassian chokes. Mor nearly spits her drink.
“You’re… going home together?” Feyre asks slowly.
Cassian points between you both. “As in the same home?”
“That’s usually how living together works, yeah…” You glance at them with a raised eyebrow.
Mor’s jaw visibly drops to the floor. “You’re together?” She asks quickly.
“Duh” Azriel says perfectly mimicking your tone.
