cackling at the pjo tv show haters after they kept bringing up how mad they were when the hippocampus weren’t in the show just for them to show up an episode later LIKE WE ALL SAID THEY PROBABLY WOULD
Could you please write a fic where Rhys gets up in the middle of the night because he scents a horny sleeping Feyre. Then he wakes her up by doing kinky shit to her 😍😅
I just want everyone to know that I will probably NEVER answer one of these prompts again. I have too many other legit stories I want to tell. So this is gonna be short and sweet and smutty. This is NSFW and, as I have no fear of words, I use language that MANY people find offensive. This was NOT written with personalities or what’s canon in mind. So it does not reflect how I see or understand these characters. You’ve been warned!
[A Midnight Feast]
It was the smell that woke me. Something sweet and haunting, and so thick in the air that I could have choked on it. It called to something so ancient in my blood that I damn near woke in a frenzy.
My self indulgent and fun take on the rumoured smut that SJM wrote about Rowaelin.
~3000
CW: NSFW
AN: Finally, we get to figure out what Rowan did 👀
______
It was barely 7 o’clock in the morning and already Rowan had fucked up his life. He’d hardly processed exactly what had happened before Enda had shoved a bow in his face and dragged him into the Oakwald to go hunting.
Rowan could have murdered his cousin for what he’d done. It was fortunate that they were surrounded by enough witnesses that he couldn’t feasibly get away with it. Though Rowan entertained himself for much of the journey with fantasies of a stray arrow finding its way into Enda’s throat. It was a good distraction from the other throat Rowan wouldn’t mind shooting.
King Dorian had invited the entire Whitethorn clan for the hunt—more to be social and woo his international guests than to actually catch anything. Chaol Westfall rode at the front of the party, pointing out rocks and trees as if they didn't have them back in Doranelle, and the King stayed close to Ellys, deep in conversation.
Rowan was grateful that he hadn’t had to talk to Dorian. He wasn’t exactly sure what to say to the man whose wife he’d bedded, no matter how much Aelin had assured him it was okay. Though the few times he’d accidentally met the King’s eyes, Rowan could only describe the look Dorian gave him as pitying.
“You are making the most impossibly unpleasant expression, cousin,” Sellene noted as she brought her horse beside his.
Rowan made sure his frown soured further. “I am having the most unpleasant of experiences.” He could have been in Aelin’s bed right now, where none of his family could find him. He would have spent the entire night with her were it not for Enda.
Said disowned cousin chuckled on Rowan’s other side. “He’s been like this all morning,” Enda informed Sellene.
Rowan might have commented on that, but the sound of a snapping branch caught his attention. He looked off into the trees, searching for its source, but found nothing. Nor did his cousins show any sign of having heard it. Must have been nothing.
“Well, brood on your own time,” Sellene ordered—and it actually was an order. “We are here to build political friendships, not terrify Adarlan’s Captain of the Guard.”
Rowan rolled his eyes. “It is no fault of mine that he lacks courage.”
“But it is your fault that I can smell his fear.”
That made Rowan smile. “Perhaps.”
Even though his smile came from the pettiest of places, his queen deemed it sufficient and left him alone for the rest of the ride. When they finally arrived at their destination—a region rich with deer and to be traversed by foot—Rowan was the first to get off his horse.
Desperate to get away from Aelin’s husband and his own prying family, he announced, “I’m going this way,” and took off toward the thicker trees.
He needed the solitude of hunting to prepare his apology speech for Aelin. And his rudeness seemed to do the trick, the silence at his back indicating that nobody had chosen to follow him.
Despite his terrible mood, Rowan could begrudgingly admit that it was a beautiful day to be outside. The forest was orange with the first hints of fall, the sun was sparkling crisply through the trees. If he was being punished for letting Aelin down, the weather really should have been worse.
Soon enough, he caught scent of a deer and tracked it along the banks of a trickling brook. He’d just spotted it in the trees ahead when another branch snapped at his back. Rowan turned and scanned the bushes, but same as last time, there was nothing there.
Perhaps it was the Little Folk following him with disappointed eyes. He had heard they were plentiful in the Oakwald, and that they were partial to Aelin.
Rowan returned to his deer, finding it had moved along. He finally shouldered off his bow and knocked an arrow, keeping the tension loose. He found the deer again within minutes, standing in a ray of sunlight and drinking from a rocky pool.
The water was clear and rippling with waves from a nearby waterfall—the source of the brook he’d followed. Rowan crept closer, crouching down behind a row of bushes, giving him a perfect shot of the beast.
Rowan pulled back his arm, aiming the arrow right for the deer’s eye. A difficult shot for most; an easy shot for him.
And he would have made it, had a cold blade not landed against his throat.
“I win,” Aelin whispered in his ear, pushing the flat of her dagger hard against his jugular. She pressed herself against his back, wrapping her other arm over his shoulder.
Rowan chuckled, letting the bow and arrow fall to the ground. How she’d managed to evade detection, he didn’t know. Impressive.
“I didn’t realize we were competing,” he said. In fact, Rowan hadn’t realized she’d be there at all. He made to turn around, but her fingers dug into his shoulder, and the blade scraped a little higher—a warning that he wasn’t to move.
“Are we not hunting?” she purred, leaning in so that she could scrape her teeth over the sensitive skin of his neck.
Rowan’s eyes slid closed and he held back a groan. “I don’t believe we were hunting people, no.”
“And yet here you are, at my mercy.” Aelin bit him then—too light to break skin, but hard enough to emphasize the words. Rowan tilted his head back, giving her space, which she greedily took, kissing up to his ear. “Unless you disagree?”
He didn’t. There was no one else in the world that Rowan would allow to hold a knife to his throat. Anyone else would have been dead by now. “I’m always at your mercy, Aelin.”
The queen made a pleased sound, humming while her mouth continued roving over his skin. Her free hand slid under his tunic, down his bare chest, and it was only the occasional press of the knife that kept Rowan from turning around and taking her right there on the forest floor. This was Aelin’s game; he wasn’t about to interfere with it.
She tugged on his ear with her teeth, but said rather quietly, “You didn’t seek me out last night.”
“I meant to.”
“Oh?” The blade constricted a little more—and damn him, he didn’t hate it.
But he said softly, “Of course I did, Aelin. The only reason I didn’t is that Enda was so boring I fell asleep.”
The knife fell away.
“What?” Aelin laughed, loud enough that the deer ran away. Breaking from her ruthless hunter character. “You fell asleep?”
Rowan took the loosening of her arms as a chance to stand up and face her. The sight of the queen in hunting leathers was another thing he definitely didn’t hate. Her gold hair, which had so recently been gripped between his fingers while he moved over her, was now in a practical braid. And he had a feeling there were a lot more daggers where the first had come from.
“I told you that Enda wanted to meet?” Rowan said, taking the original dagger from her hand and returning it to the sheath on her belt. “It was about sheep.”
She cracked a smile that warmed his heart. “Sheep?”
“He wanted my opinion on whether we should import Adarlanian sheep to Doranelle, and Aelin, I swear I tried to stay awake, but he nearly killed me.”
It was the complete and absolute truth, and Aelin’s widening grin indicated that she believed it.
“As soon as he started comparing wools, I told him to wake me up when I inevitably lost consciousness,” Rowan continued, “but he didn’t. He left me on the couch in his sitting room until right before the hunt this morning. Said I looked like I needed the rest.”
He’d woken up with a kink in his neck that had required healing magic, and hadn’t even had a chance to grab breakfast. The fact that Enda was alive was a tribute to Rowan’s remarkable self-control.
He wrapped an arm around Aelin’s waist. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”
The queen’s amused smile faltered even as he tugged her close. Eyes darting to the ground, she admitted, “I thought you might have lost interest.”
“Aelin,” he said, taking her face into his hands and forcing her to look at him. Rowan waited until every glorious colour of her eyes was focused on him. “You’re my mate. I don’t think it’s possible for me to lose interest in you.”
Emotion flickered, and she offered him a vulnerable smile. A reminder that though they were mates, though they’d shared a bed, they also didn’t know each that well yet.
“Good,” she said, trailing a finger over his stomach, hooking it into his belt. “I have further use of you still.”
Rowan laughed lightly at the suggestion in her tone, but Aelin pulled away. She walked around the bushes, heading for the glimmering pool, and when she looked back at him over her shoulder, Rowan raised a brow.
“Since I have so successfully hunted you,” she said, walking backwards now, “I think I’m ready to claim my reward.”
Rowan caught her meaning the second she stepped out of her boots. Her weapons went next, clattering to the ground, then her tunic, thrown quickly over her head. He followed her toward the pool like gravity itself was dragging him there.
“Your reward?” he said, voice lower than before.
Aelin removed the scrap of cloth from her breasts, then got to work on her pants. Rowan tracked every inch of movement as she slid them down her thighs. She waited until she was entirely naked before clarifying, “You.”
There was no stopping his groan as she stretched her arms over her head, skin practically glowing in the beam of sunshine she’d stepped into. Aelin unwove her braid, golden waves cascading over her shoulders, and just as he thought to reach for her, she jumped into the pool.
His mate disappeared under the surface for a second before reappearing, slicking back her wet hair as her eyes fluttered open. “Your turn,” she said.
Rowan swallowed hard. “Someone might find us.”
She smirked up at him. “They might.”
“The Little Folk might be watching.”
“Oh, the Little Folk are definitely watching.”
“Dorian is here.”
A snort. “If Dorian finds us,” Aelin chuckled, “the worst thing that can happen is him asking to join us. Now take off your clothes.”
Rowan glanced around the trees, finding them blissfully empty. Within seconds he was kicking off his boots and weapons. It really was hard to argue with the queen’s logic.
He reached for the hem of his tunic—
“Slower,” Aelin ordered gently. She cocked her head to the side, as if to observe him from a better angle. “No need to rush.”
Rowan laughed because his mate was insane, but slowed the movement of his hands because apparently, that worked for him. Setting a leisurely pace, he undid the buttons of his tunic one by one. Aelin watched with an evaluating eye, following his hands, biting her lip as the fabric finally slid off his shoulders.
Next, he unbuckled his belt, pausing a moment before unbuttoning his pants too. Aelin’s throat bobbed as he removed them completely, as he pushed off his undershorts and revealed exactly how much he wanted her.
The queen’s gaze fell to his cock with the shameless confidence that only a monarch could possess. Not a hint of shyness dusted her cheeks. There was nothing but desire in her eyes as she said thickly, “Come here.”
Unlike his mate, Rowan didn’t jump into the pool. He took careful, deliberate steps, feeling the smooth pebbles and sand beneath his feet as he broke the water’s surface. It wasn’t cold like it should be so far into the fall, so high in the mountains. But glacial temperatures were no match for Aelin’s magic, nor the heat now thrumming through his veins.
At its deepest, the water reached high on his chest. Rowan waded through it, closer to his mate whose feet didn’t quite touch the bottom. With sweeping circles of her arms, Aelin closed the gap between them.
“I like you like this,” she whispered, coiling those arms around his neck and every inch of space between their bodies vanished. Aelin’s legs wound around his hips next, so that she could work herself back and force along his cock. Her mouth went back to teasing his neck and ear.
A growl rumbled deep in his chest, but Rowan forced himself to ask, “Like what?”
Aelin paused and drew back, a flash of something deeper in her eyes. “Outside,” she said. “In the light of day.”
Rowan raised the hand that was on her hip, up to her cheek, and gave her the truth, “I like it too.”
He didn’t get a chance to say anything else because she kissed him. Aelin slid her fingers into his hair and her tongue into his mouth. The water around them warmed with every touch of their lips, with the way he ran his thumb over the peak of her breast. It wasn’t long before Rowan’s hands were back on her hips, lifting her just enough so that he could slip inside her.
Aelin moaned into his shoulder as he lowered her hips back down, hitting as deep as he possibly could. And after barely a second’s pause, she started moving.
Her lips crashed into his. Her nails dug into his shoulders with every lift of her hips. Rowan held her tightly, increasing the friction. He met her every moan and whimper with a brush of his tongue, and answered the burst of flames across her skin with a groan of his own. Were his ice not dancing with her flames, the water around them might have boiled.
Aelin threw her head back as she got closer and closer, using his shoulders to keep up her pace. She clenched around his cock in a way that almost killed him, but Rowan refused to close his eyes. He refused to miss a single second of his mate’s pleasure.
“Rowan,” she gasped. A plea. “I need—”
Her voice failed as he gripped her hips and slammed her down harder. Onto her neck, Rowan said, “What do you need, Aelin?” He pressed a kiss beneath her jaw.
Barely stringing the words together, she answered, “I need more. Everything—”
He plunged his teeth into her neck. Aelin screamed for all the forest to hear, shattering right there as he claimed her. Marked her as his own. She lost her rhythm, but Rowan took over, moving her hips until the very last gasp of pleasure left her lips, until he was right there with her, finishing deep inside her.
Rowan withdrew his teeth from her neck, healing magic erasing the wounds as quickly as they’d come. But he stayed inside her, held her tighter. Aelin’s panting breaths fanned across his skin as she rested her head on his shoulder, and slowly, the sounds of the world faded back in. The rush of the waterfall, the rustle of leaves. The call of birds, too, once Rowan lowered his shield.
He could have stayed there forever like that, and maybe in sense, he planned to—until suddenly, a twig snapped. It was followed immediately by two male voices. Laughter and footsteps.
“Chaol,” Aelin said in a whisper that was torn between panic and complete amusement. “And Endymion.”
“The waterfall,” Rowan answered.
They pulled apart and ducked beneath the water, swimming as quickly as they could for the dark rocks behind the waterfall, the small shadowed hollow shielded by waves. Aelin wrapped both arms over Rowan’s shoulders again as they resurfaced. She smiled wickedly—but then her eyes went wide.
“Our clothes.”
Shit. Rowan spun around, trying to see their discarded clothes and swords on the pool’s far bank. It was so obscured by the waterfall, that all he could think to do was send a gust of wind through the clearing. Metal clattered and bushes rustled, but Rowan kept the sounds contained by a shield.
He only just dropped said shield in time before Enda walked straight into it.
“This is one of many lovely pools in the Oakwald,” Chaol was saying. From the lack of footsteps, they’d clearly stopped to look at it. “The waterfall is fed by glaciers in the Rhunn Mountains.”
“Lovely,” Enda said, though there was something in his voice.
Keeping as close to the water’s surface as he could without drowning, Rowan moved a little closer. Though the view was almost entirely obscured by the waterfall, he knew that Enda was frowning. Maybe because there was such a steady breeze rushing around the pool—Rowan’s magic redirecting their scents.
“Aelin—” Rowan only just managed to smother his gasp of her name. She’d started licking his ear. And hadn’t stopped.
“Did you hear something?” Enda said, voice dripping with suspicion.
“No, I don’t think so,” Chaol answered.
Rowan pushed his mate away from his ear, though he didn’t take his hands off her. Their eyes locked, and their laughs were silent, but the wickedness didn’t leave Aelin’s face. Especially not as she went back to work on his neck.
Rowan wouldn’t allow himself to groan.
“Must have been nothing,” Enda said, sounding entirely unconvinced.
Leaves crunched beneath feet, and soon enough their unexpected guests were gone. As soon as Rowan deemed it safe, Aelin burst out laughing.
“That was close,” she giggled, tightening her legs around his waist. “Chaol would have been fine, but I don’t think I would have survived your cousin catching me naked in the forest.”
Something in his chest stirred at the words. That Aelin wouldn’t have been embarrassed to be found with him. “Enda would have teased you about it for centuries,” Rowan chuckled.
“And I wouldn’t have blamed him,” she grinned.
Rowan couldn’t help but smile back, even as Aelin got that look in her eyes again. As those eyes dropped to his lips.
“Aelin Galathynius,” he said warmly, “you are going to be the death of me.”
Her grin became positively blinding. “Oh, I intend to be.”
______
To get notifications when I post, follow my writing blog @heirofflowerswrites
Pairing: Feysand
Rating: M
Warning: Tamlin and all he entails
Notes: Thanks for the prompt! I'm honestly deeply, deeply intrigued at the thought of what might have happened with Feyre and Rhys if he had been a split-second too late on the day of the wedding, so here's a little ficlet about that.
Rhys's shoulder was trembling beneath her head.
His cool silk sheets were pooled around their waists, their legs tangled beneath them. Feyre was tracing the thick, curling lines inked across his collarbone, trying not to notice the way his breathing hitched or the moisture that dripped into her hair when he bent his head to press a kiss to the top of hers.
In the hallway, the grandfather clock began to chime.
"He'll be wondering where I am," she murmured, but she laid her tattooed hand flat against Rhys's chest. His heart beat steadily beneath it as she admired the way her tattoo melted into the lines of his.
Her hand disappeared, but the heavy emerald ring on her finger stood out starkly against her pale skin and the dark ink of their tattoos. Some magic—Tamlin's, Ianthe's, the Mother's, Feyre didn't know—had all but welded it to her finger once she had choked out her vows that awful day.
The bond was taut between them, aching with regret like she had pressed an old bruise. "Feyre—"
"It's been a week. I have to go," she repeated. Her voice was firmer this time, though she didn't feel it. When she bent her head to look at her mate, his eyes were red, shimmering in the low light, and the violet was bright enough to pierce her soul. "War is coming, Rhys. The High Lords are meeting in a week. You can't afford a fight on two fronts."
"I could take it. Just ask, Feyre, just think it, and I would mist the entire fucking court for you."
"We need them. This was your plan all along, remember? Aside from the Illyrians, Spring has the only other army that wasn't decimated by..."
Rhys shuddered again as she omitted the name they never spoke in his bed, the arm around her waist tightening.
"Mor is already on the continent seeking further aid from our old allies there. If they agree, if they see the risk Hybern poses for all of us, then Spring won't matter." Feyre looked away, and Rhys threaded a hand into her hair. "Darling... darling. Please."
"Begging, Rhys?"
She took a deep breath and sat up. She couldn't meet Rhys's eyes as she shook him off and stood, gathering the clothes they had scattered across his room not an hour earlier.
"It won't be pretty if I wait any longer," she said, guilt turning her stomach as she caught his flinch from the corner of her eye as he rose to follow her. She bit her lip and glanced out the window; already, she knew Tamlin would be furiously pacing the gardens, shredding the bushes and scarring the trees. There was little left inside the manor to destroy. "This is my choice, Rhys. This... I can do this. What if Vallahan doesn't come through?"
"Cassian is already working on a plan—"
"I have to go!" Her voice was sharp, but the sun was sinking lower and lower by the minute, shining across the patinated copper rooftops of Velaris. "We can't. We can't rely on plans and maybes right now when Tamlin has an army ready and waiting."
Rhys let out a sharp breath through his nose, and Feyre squared her shoulders.
"Please, gods, Rhys, just winnow me back. Quickly." She held out a hand, but Rhys merely stared at it. Starless darkness leaked from him in thick ribbons, snuffing out the golden faelights in his room. "Please. Three weeks and I'll be back. Six days, and I'll see you at Dawn for the summit."
"As the bride of Spring," Rhys all but spat, but gentle, reaching talons cradled the edges of her mind as if he was committing them to memory. As if he could erase the awful day he had responded to her pleas for help just a moment too late to save them from this fate from their memory.
She swallowed hard, her heart in her throat. She could barely manage a whisper as she reached out again and said, "It isn't forever."
He took her hand and drew her close, and she watched as, one by one, the lights in Rhys's eyes disappeared. "Then why does it feel like this is goodbye?"
A multi-chaptered story containing the slowest of burns, tons of angst and pining, an atrocious amount of swearing, and a friends to lovers story. More notably, the story also contains: explicit sex scenes, drug and alcohol use, substance abuse, depictions of depression and anxiety, and relationships with abusive undertones.
Okay let's for one second pretend that Sarah confirmed Gwyn is a lightsinger even though she didn't.
So now Gwyneth Berdara is a lightsinger which are the creatures from bog who are supposedly bad. She can lure people with her singing powers even though it's never mentioned lightsingers sings or glows. My question is how would that tie to elriel plot?
If the answer is Gwyn is luring Azriel intentionally or unintentionally that's not going to happen (why the hell would she lure Azriel out of all people? There are plenty of other more suitable candidates). There is one thing that Sarah said in the interview, how the found family is important and acosf is a deeply personal book. Do one really think she will make someone good as that evil? (She cried rereading the Valkyrie scenes) She's definitely not gonna make Gwyn evil so we can throw that out of the window. Then what? How would Gwyn being a lightsinger would work in an elriel plot?
The lightsinger plot would not be something small. You would have to show how that would affect the Valkyries, IC, everyone and how they would respond to it. You would have to show how Gwyn comes into the terms of it (her pov). It would take up more attention and space in the book. If we go by the theory that next is elriel, this revelation would eat up atleast a quarter of the book. So the first half of elriel book is gonna be Elain and Azriel staring at each other then suddenly the attention turns towards the redhead character and how she's someone from bog. I don't think any of the people who are screaming Gwyn is a lightsinger wants that too happen. From my observation these people never say anything about how it would affect the whole dynamic of Valkyries or IC or how it would develop Gwyn as a character. It's clear most you only promote this theory so you could get Gwyn out of the way of your ship.
Despite her declaration, a bit of an awkward silence fell over the room as they stared at each other, neither of them making a move to do anything. But eventually, she opened her mouth again, her hands wrapped in the fabric of Rowan’s t-shirt as she started spilling everything on her tired mind.
Or really- one thing.
“Were you telling the truth?” She asked weakly, her voice a tired croak. She just… needed to know. “Or was it an excuse?”
Rowan leaned forward, as if he wanted to reach for her but didn’t. “I’m sorry, Aelin,” he breathed, and her heart froze for a second, before he continued. “It was my fault, it was my mistake.”
“But?” She asked, hoping for something more. Otherwise she didn’t think she’d be able to survive the day. Not with everything that had happened.
“I didn’t spread your picture,” he said, and his voice was so pained she had no choice but to believe him. “I didn’t even see it. And I swear to all the gods, if I had, I never would’ve let Remelle even go near my phone.”
She nodded once slowly, looking off to the side. “Is that what happened?” She asked, not sure if she really wanted to know.
Her… whatever sighed, scrubbing his face with his hands. “I was at the library, you know, and she showed up, spewing shit about how she misses me.”
Aelin frowned, but moved carefully to sit on the couch with him, curled up in a ball a good distance away.
“She saw that I was texting you, and she must’ve picked up on the conversation because she asked if she could borrow my phone,” he continued, and she narrowed her eyes. “She pretended to be apologetic and acted like she was moving on and needed to call her friend to pick her up.” He sighed again, shaking his head. “I wasn’t thinking, no matter how badly that relationship went I didn’t want her walking home alone.”
Of course not, he was nothing if not a gentleman. And that bitch had used it against him.
“I’m assuming that bad timing struck and you sent the picture while she had my phone,” he continued dismally. “And then she sent it to herself and deleted it all. And then…” he trailed off.
She knew the rest.
Aelin frowned, the information swirling around in her head. Did she believe him? Or did she believe that this was a clever lie? Remelle was a realistic scapegoat, but it was also realistic that she’d do this. No matter how long it’d been, she still hated Aelin.
Rowan didn’t speak, letting her process everything, and there was once again only silence in his apartment as he waited for her to pass her judgment.
But, what came out of her mouth wasn’t what either of them were expecting.
“How bad was it,” she asked, “dating her?”
Rowan blinked, surprised at the question. And then his silvery brows furrowed, as if he’d never even thought about the answer before.
“Well, um…” he said, leaning back against the back of the couch. “I think the problem was I never wanted to date her.”
“No?” Aelin asked, and he shook his head.
“I always wanted to date -“ he stopped himself, cheeks flaming, and she waited for him to continue but he didn’t.
“Well you were together a long time for someone who never wanted the relationship to happen in the first place,” she pried, narrowing her eyes. He just sighed heavily.
“I kept trying to leave,” he said, “to break it off gently, but she wouldn’t let me.” He shook his head. “I would tell her, and then she would keep harassing me until the only thing that would solve it was going on another date, which I always paid for, even though I’m only able to be here on a fucking scholarship.” He rubbed at his forehead. “I don’t even know how to explain it, but after a while I didn’t think there was any way to leave. I thought I was going to be stuck with her and her temper forever.”
He seemed to be feeling some sort of relief getting this all off of his chest, but Aelin was absolutely horrified.
“Rowan…” she said, fighting the urge to reach for him, “that’s not okay. None of that is okay. Gods.” She shook her head, frowning. “I know she was bad but I never knew…” she looked up at him, “that’s borderline abusive, Rowan.”
Aelin watched him as he processed her words, his face twisted in contemplation. She didn’t blame him, that was a loaded thing to be forced to realize. But he didn’t say anything and silence fell. She dragged a finger idly over the hem of the t-shirt she was wearing, his t-shirt, and realized that maybe he deserved to finally hear her side of the story.
“Did you ever wonder where I come from?” she said, not looking at him.
“Sometimes,” he answered honestly, and she nodded idly.
“My parents died when I was very young,” Aelin explained, frowning a bit. “I bounced around from different foster homes for a while, until I ended up in one when I was eight that lasted until I was eighteen.” She sighed, squeezing her eyes shut. “It - wasn’t the best environment.”
“What do you mean?” Rowan asked, and she could hear the cautious dread in her voice. She huffed a humorless laugh, looking down at the t-shirt.
“I mean,” she said, “I got used to covering up bruises.” It was only then she looked up, meeting his devastated gaze. “I didn’t leave the house much, which is why I relished the freedom I found in college.” She shook her head, a tired, sardonic smile on her face. “You were my first boyfriend ever, and you weren’t even a boyfriend. Even if I -” love you, she didn’t need to say. They both remembered her admission.
“Aelin,” Rowan said, his voice calm and solid, and she looked at him. They stared at each other, her heart pounding as he began to say, “I lo-”
His phone rang, loudly disrupting the moment. Aelin blinked, and Rowan stopped what he was saying to look at who was calling, his brows unfurrowing as he answered it.
“Lorcan?” He said, sitting up straight. “Do you have the results?” A brief pause, and then Rowan nodded. “So it was spiked. Okay, I’ll talk to her now.”
Aelin’s gut sank at the reminder of what happened. And her face was flat as he hung up and looked over at her.
“How are you feeling?” He asked, shifting to face her more. “About everything?”
“About my abusive foster father or the fact that I was almost raped last night?” She asked, sounding clearly drained. She just wanted to go back to bed. Rowan’s hand rested on hers in a show of support, clearly unconsciously with the way he started to pull it back when he realized. But Aelin grabbed it, and held his hand in hers, relishing in the comfort.
“Thank you for rescuing me,” she said quietly, with a small smile. He just nodded.
“Of course,” he said. “I’ll always be there for you, and I will always regret the times I wasn’t.” It was clear what he was referencing: the photograph.
Aelin sniffed, breaking their stare. “I think I’m going to have a little chat with Remelle,” she said, uncurling herself from the couch. “I have a lot to talk to her about.”
“Wait,” Rowan said, sticking out a hand. “Before that,” he sighed, looking a little nervous. “How would you feel about going down to the hospital to get tested - for the drug.” Ah. “We have the results from the vodka bottle, and if you get tested too there’s a much higher chance of us being able to make an actual case against him.”
Aelin loosed a breath, nodding. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.” She narrowed her eyes. “Do fingerprints stay on clothes? We have my dress from last night, which would tie him in directly.”
“It’s worth a shot,” he said, standing up too. Which made her realize that he was fully dressed, and she decidedly was not.
“Let me freshen up at my apartment real quick, okay?” She said, heading toward the door. “And then we’ll go.”
------
It came back positive. Aelin knew it would, but it was still disconcerting to see the word typed out on a piece of paper. It was fact then, it couldn’t be ignored.
But with Rowan by her side, they’d dropped off that and her dress from the night before at the police station, and officially accused Cairn of attempted assault. And then they’d parted ways, a bit awkwardly, as she pressed a small and quick kiss to his cheek without really thinking.
He’d been flustered, and so had she, and he’d left quickly, leaving her to go find Remelle.
It was pretty easy; Remelle was fairly predictable, and she ended up outside of her favorite coffee shop, watching as Remelle giggled with her friends inside.
Aelin lifted her chin as she walked inside, ignoring the stares she still got as she walked right up to Remelle. It took a second for the girl to notice her, but Aelin caught the exact moment she did, slight panic racing across her face though she hid it quickly.
“Aelin,” Remelle said haughtily, straightening. “What do you want?”
Aelin smiled coldly, tilting her head. “Let’s have a talk, alright? Girl to girl.”
Remelle rolled her eyes but took her coffee and her lying ass over to a table by the window, sitting down casually. Her gaggle of friends went over to another table on the other side of the cafe, immediately beginning to probably gossip and such, but Aelin sat down across from Remelle.
“Do you know why I’m here?” Aelin asked, resting her hands casually on the table. Remelle just snorted.
“I’m surprised you’re showing your face in public,” she said, smiling hatefully. Aelin just narrowed her eyes.
“I was almost raped last night,” she said, keeping her voice flat. And it got the reaction she was expecting, Remelle’s face slackening in shock. “And while the blame completely lies with Cairn, he cites my photograph as the reason why he felt the need to do it. And -” she leaned forward onto the table, “we both know where that photograph came from.”
She paused for effect before leaning back again, relaxing in her seat. “As a woman, I’ve grown up under the impression that we’re meant to help other women. Especially in a world like this, where there are men who do whatever they can to take advantage of you. And yet -” she tilted her head, “everything I’ve ever learned about you seems to me that you have a different impression.”
“I don’t know what you’re trying to-”
“Stop the shit, Remelle,” Aelin said, hitting a hand on the table. “You know, if I report you to the dean, I can get you expelled for sexual harassment just like that.” She snapped for emphasis. “And if I’m really persistent, I can go for a criminal charge.”
The other girl’s eyes were wide, like she hadn't even considered the idea of consequences.
“And you know what?” Aelin continued, “I don’t care anymore for myself, but I will press charges if you do not leave Rowan Whitethorn alone. Do you hear me?” She nearly spit the words. “And if I get word that you ever treat anyone else the way you treated him, then I will not hesitate to bring a world of trouble down on your shoulders.”
Remelle looked shell shocked.
“Do you understand?” Aelin pressed, not letting up until the other girl nodded quickly. “Good,” she said, finally relaxing. And after a moment of silence she stood up, tucking the chair primly under the table. “Enjoy your coffee,” she said, with a fake smile and wave.
And then she turned and left, holding up a rude gesture to a guy who catcalled her as she pushed open the door. She was trying really hard not to care, even if she was still embarrassed.
And yet, the picture was out there, so what. It could be much worse; at least she was wearing something.
And, in all honesty, it would disappear from everyone’s minds in a few weeks. She would just have to hold out until then.
But if she was being truthful, the situation didn’t seem nearly as insurmountable as it had just the day before, because of one simple factor. Rowan. It wasn’t his fault, and that meant the world to her.
He was still someone she could trust. And gods did she want to.
She just needed to tell him that she was ready to love him. And see if maybe, just maybe, he could love her back.
——
Rowan was idly watching a football game on the TV, watching their college’s team score a touchdown against the Rifthold Ravens, when someone knocked on the door lightly.
Lorcan was out, so he knew whoever it was was for him, so he stood up and walked to the door, smiling a little bit when he found Aelin on the other side.
“Hey,” he said, opening the door more to let her in. “How’d it go with Remelle?”
She smiled sardonically, “I don’t think she’s going to be a problem anymore. She learned the concept of consequences.”
“Oh?” He asked, not sure entirely what that meant, but she didn’t offer any more clarification, just sitting down primly on his couch and turning her attention to the football game.
“Next week is a home game, right?” Aelin asked, and Rowan blinked as he walked over to the couch to sit with her.
“Yeah, I think so,” he answered. “Are you going to go?”
She shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t have a ticket, though I’d like to go to at least one while I’m in college,” she said, huffing a laugh. “We’ll see if it ever happens.” They stayed quiet, watching as Doranelle caught an interception, running the ball all the way back to score another touchdown. The roar from the students there was audible through the TV.
“Let’s go,” he said, looking over at her. “I’ll get you a ticket.”
“What?” She asked, turning to look at him a bit bewildered.
“Come on,” he said, smiling a bit. “It’ll be fun.”
“Okay,” she said, smiling back. “Yeah, let’s go.” But then she frowned. “As long as I don’t get heckled the minute I step into the stadium. I’m not going to subject you to that.”
Rowan didn’t like how dejected she looked, though she tried to hide it. He had a feeling she was going to continue to try and hide how affected she was by what happened, but he didn’t want her to feel like she needed to around him.
“Hey,” he said, reaching out a hand to cup her cheek. She hesitated and he nearly pulled away, but then she leaned into him, so he stayed. “I don’t care what all of those idiots say to me, I don’t want you to worry about me. What matters is if you feel comfortable going. Because if not, then we can stay in and watch it here. But whatever you want to do, I’m by your side.”
She blinked a few times, trying to fight the glistening in her eyes, before closing them entirely. “Thank you,” she said softly, lifting her hand to cover his. They stayed quiet for a moment, just resting in the other’s presence. And he’d be content to stay like that, but - he needed to tell her.
“Aelin?” He asked, his voice a little shaky. She opened her eyes, looking at him in question. His heart was racing, and he felt nervous about what he was going to say. But when he met her eyes, those turquoise eyes that had enthralled him since the first day they met. “I haven’t been entirely honest with you,” he said, and she pulled away slightly, narrowing her eyes. “Wait,” he said, shaking his head. “That’s not what I mean.” He huffed.
“What do you mean?” Aelin asked, looking at him warily. “Because if there’s something else you’re keeping from me, I -”
“I love you,” he blurted out, her eyes going wide. “I’ve loved you since freshman year,” he admitted. “You enthralled me the first day we met, and I trailed after you like a puppy dog hoping for your scraps. I never wanted to date Remelle, I wanted to date you.”
“Rowan…”
“I insulted you and played pranks on you like a child, because it was the only way I could think of to get your attention.” He laughed humorlessly, shaking his head. “And then when we were together, but not the way I wanted, I took what I could get because it was better than nothing. I couldn’t stand the idea of losing what little of you I had.” He took in a shaky breath. “But it’s time for me to admit it in full. I, Rowan Whitethorn, love you, Aelin Galathynius, and I’m never going to be able to stop.”
His voice fell away, pushing silence back up, and his heart pounded as he waited for her reply. She’d already said she loved him, but what if that’d changed? What if she wasn’t ready? He would die if she rejected him now, though he wouldn’t fight her if that’s what she wanted. He just wanted her to be happy.
But - she smiled a watery smile, leaning to rest her forehead against his.
“Rowan?” She asked quietly.
“Yeah?” He breathed back.
“I love you too,” she whispered, and his heart soared.
“You do?” Rowan asked, and she nodded, smiling at him.
“Yep,” she said, “so you’re not getting rid of me now.” He huffed a laugh, resting his hand back on her cheek.
“Sounds perfect,” he said, “you’re not getting rid of me either.”
“I think I’ll take that deal,” Aelin said, and when she leaned in and kissed him, it was like fireworks exploded in the room. They’d kissed hundreds of times, but none as special as this.
She loved him, and he loved her. And they could both finally say it. He’d waited years for this moment, and now, it was finally here.
an: I am immensely proud of this, and I have put so much work into this one, I really hope you all like it; it was born out of my obsession with the archer but has turned into something of its own; I'm a bit nervous sharing it, but I'm happy with how it turned out, so I hope you all enjoy it as much I enjoyed writing it
CW: cursing, angst, depictions of an eating disorder, mentions of sexual assault, very brief depiction of attempted sexual assault, NSFW
Aelin woke up that morning to the sound of classical piano blaring in her ears. It was the opening chords of the Stygian Suite, which meant she was just on time as she sat up, lifting up her eye mask and turning to switch off the alarm.
With a graceful yawn, she pulled back her silk sheets, standing out of bed to stretch as the first reaches of sunlight seeped in through the light blue curtains.
5:30 am, bright and early. It was the time she woke up every day, just to get a jump start before her schedule caught up with her.
Efficiently, she made her bed, tucking the fluffy white comforter nicely underneath her pillows before heading into the bathroom. In there, her face highlighted by the lights around the large mirror, she combed and clipped her hair up, with a towel headband to keep any stray pieces back. Turning on the faucet to let the water warm up, Aelin went and grabbed her silk robe, sliding it on over her silk pajamas, the luxurious fabric caressing her skin.
Then she went back to the sink, splashing her face with water and using her expensive face wash to start the day fresh. After the face wash, she applied her bottle of toner to her skin carefully, before layering it on with a few of her favorite serums, finishing the routine off with her moisturizer and of course, sunscreen, to keep her skin youthful and glowing.
Then she took off the headband, but left the clip in, traveling out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, turning on her fancy coffee machine. After hitting a few buttons, her coffee was brewing, espresso and steamed milk spilling out of it to make a delicious latte.
While that was brewing, Aelin padded over to the floor to ceiling windows, pulling open the curtains to reveal the city skyline below, already bustling at the early hour. Rifthold was a huge city, there was always something going on. She relished in the chaos of it all, it kept the chaos in her own mind at bay.
It was only when she was sitting down on her plush couch with her coffee and her small bowl of yogurt that she finally looked at her phone.
6 am. She’d made good time.
If she ate her breakfast and drank her coffee in the next fifteen minutes, then she’d have another fifteen to get changed before starting her morning workout. Not to be confused with her evening workout of course. Morning was cardio, while evening was all toning.
None of her friends were awake at this hour, so there weren’t any text notifications, but the fashion world was 24/7, so she had multiple emails in her inbox, essentially detailing her itinerary for the next month.
After transferring all of her shoots and runways, as well as her meetings, into her calendar, Aelin uncurled herself from the couch, abandoning her half eaten yogurt on the counter before going into her bedroom to change.
Within half an hour, she was sweating as she nearly sprinted on the treadmill. Her legs and her lungs were burning as she ran, crossing the mile mark at a record speed for her. It was one of her favorite parts of the day, to let loose all of her stress through pure sweat.
But as she was crossing the second mile, her phone rang and she was forced to slow her pace down to a gentle jog as she answered it and put it on speaker, hearing Lysandra’s tired voice yawn through the line.
“Good morning, bitch,” her best friend said affectionately, and Aelin chuckled, still breathing heavily as she exercised.
“Good morning,” she replied, “you’re up early.”
“And what?” Lysandra said, “you’ve been up for an hour already, haven’t you.” Aelin laughed again, wiping at some stray sweat.
“An hour and a half,” she admitted, hearing her friend snort through the phone.
“You’re crazy, girl,” Lys said, and Aelin could picture her shaking her head, curled up in her fluffy robe on her own couch. “Anyway, I was just calling to let you know we’re meeting at The Stag at eight tonight for drinks. Aedion is insisting you actually come this time.”
“I couldn’t come last time because of a shoot,” Aelin sighed, “he knows that. Tell him to get out of my business.”
“He knows,” the brunette girl complained. “But he’s going to be mad if you don’t make it tonight.”
Aelin thought through her schedule in her head, sighing through her nose as she hit the three mile mark on her treadmill.
“I’ll see what I can do,” she conceded, and Lysandra seemed satisfied with that answer as she hung up the call. Aelin finally slowed the treadmill down to a stop, ending at three miles. A little less than usual but she’d just compensate with her workout later.
She wasn’t lying when she said she was busy, but there was one other reason she was hesitant to go to their group gatherings. A certain man named Rowan Whitethorn.
He was best friends with Lorcan, who was dating Elide, who was good friends with her and Lysandra, so they all got grouped together whenever they went out. He was sure to be invited to drinks tonight.
It wasn’t like she never saw him outside of her friends, in fact he worked at her modeling agency as a headshot photographer. He’d been hired well after her start in the industry, so she’d never taken pictures with him, but his official duties were to take the pictures new girls would submit with their applications for shoots.
He was… fine. When he wasn’t being a raging pain in her ass. Stuck up, arrogant, holier than thou - Rowan Whitethorn was convinced that he was better than her, and while she knew her self worth was so diminished she would likely agree if it were anyone else, she just couldn’t with him.
And she just really wasn’t feeling up to an interaction with him today. But - she’d promised her cousin she’d try. So try she would.
——-
By the time Aelin sauntered through the doors of The Stag that evening, her high heels clicking on the dark oak floor, she was half an hour late. She hadn’t intended on being so late, but her shoot went over earlier that afternoon, and then she was late for her meeting with her agent Maeve, only to almost miss her hair and makeup consultation for her next shoot, forcing her to cut her workout short.
Aedion was lucky she didn’t skip entirely in favor of her abs. It took work to keep them this toned. Not that he’d understand, as a firefighter his entire job was essentially a workout.
Aelin had to put effort in.
“Aelin,” Aedion greeted a bit sarcastically, standing up from the table for an exaggerated hug. “I haven’t seen you in decades, look how you’ve grown.”
“Fuck off,” Aelin laughed as she hugged him back. “You know for a fact we saw each other last week.”
“Hm,” her cousin said, hugging her tightly. “It’s been a long week.”
She and her cousin had always been close, but especially so after her parents passed when she was fifteen. Aedion had already been eighteen and had fought tooth and nail for custody instead of sending her off to social services, so she’d lived with him for three years, just the two of them.
He’d supported her when she’d expressed interest in modeling, and was still her biggest supporter now, five years later, when her success was only continuing to rise.
“Here,” Lysandra interrupted, patting the seat next to her. “Come tell me everything you’ve been doing lately. I want the drama.”
Aelin laughed as she sat on the barstool at the high top table, joining the rest of the group. The whole crew was there: Lorcan and Elide, Aedion and Lysandra, Fenrys and Connall, even Vaughan had showed up, and - Rowan. They made eye contact, blue meeting green, and her smile dropped, though she attempted to nod politely. But when he just rolled his eyes, she stopped pretending to be nice.
“Do you want something to eat?” Elide asked, the petite brunette looking hot in a skin tight black dress, made modest only by the high cut of it. “We ordered some tater tots already, but we can get you something when the waiter comes back.”
Aelin waved her hand in dismissal, resting her purse on the hook under the table. “I ate earlier, I’m okay.” A wave of nerves fluttered through her, picturing the half eaten yogurt she’d abandoned that morning, but no one seemed to clock the lie, so she forced herself to relax. “I will get something to drink though.”
She waved down a waiter, reaching back into her purse to pull out her credit card. It was a platinum card, and it looked as fancy as it sounded. As it was.
“Another round,” she gestured to the table, smiling prettily at the waiter and winking. “On me. I’ll take a cosmopolitan please, with sugar free juice. I’m on a diet.”
The waiter didn’t say anything, just heading away to go get the next round of drinks, and she turned back to her group, satisfied.
“You’re trouble, Galathynius,” Fenrys said, shaking his head, and she just shrugged, laughing. The group quickly dissolved back into conversation, having to nearly shout over the hectic chaos of the bar. It was a nice place, but it was loud.
But Aelin felt eyes on her, and she turned to look at Rowan, smiling coldly.
“Enjoy your drink,” she said, refusing to be the one to look away. But he didn’t look away either, not backing down, and eventually she had to turn away. She hated him, but those green eyes threatened to strip her down to nothing and learn all of her secrets.
And she couldn’t risk that.
------
Several of his friends were riotously drunk when they finally left the bar, notably Fenrys and Aedion, but Rowan himself wasn’t even tipsy as he gathered his phone and his keys, slipping out the front door as everyone else was shuffled into various cars.
Aelin was the only one left, looking elegant in her loose pants and tight shirt, her legs going on for miles with those high heels of hers. Rowan hated her, had for a few years now, but he couldn’t deny how attractive she was. She was a model for gods sakes.
He’d be kidding himself if he tried to pretend she wasn’t beautiful.
But her personality on the other hand… completely irritating. Always laughing, flashing her money around, like she didn’t give a damn about anyone else.
Rowan already had his struggles being one of the least paid in the friend group, besides Aedion being a public employee, but Lysandra was a high end fashion designer, so it balanced out. He didn’t need the constant insult from Aelin, who essentially worked at the same place as him, but was infinitely richer.
She knew it. And she never failed to remind him.
He kept his face cold as she looked over at him, sliding her purse over her shoulder. She was surprisingly sober as well; he’d noticed she’d only sipped on her one drink the whole time.
“Loosen up a bit, Rowan,” she crooned, smiling sardonically. “You could use it.” And then she was sauntering away down the sidewalk, leaving him alone.
Rowan stared after her for a minute, letting her walk away, before turning and heading in the exact opposite direction. Yep, because he lived on the opposite side of the city. She was in a glamorous high rise uptown, and he was in a rundown five story apartment complex close to the center of downtown.
He began the long walk back home, kicking a rock idly onto the street, which was quickly run over by a passing car.
The city was loud. Always busy, always moving. He didn’t think he’d like it when he first moved here with Lorcan after high school, but now he couldn’t imagine being anywhere different.
Something caught his gaze and he paused, catching on a puddle that was reflecting streaky lights from a half lit bar sign a few yards away. He pulled out his phone, wishing he had his full camera with him as he snapped a picture, turning to get just the right angle.
He’d discovered he liked photography in high school, after taking a class as an elective credit and realizing he’d accidentally discovered his passion in life. He didn’t think that passion would lead him to taking pictures of wannabe models for their applications to have their pictures taken by “real” photographers, but - he had bills to pay.
It was fine for now, but he was hoping to get somewhere a little further than that.
Maybe in the next couple of years he’d finally be able to.
He tucked his phone back into his pocket as he continued to walk, only taking it and his keys back out when he reached his door. It creaked as he opened it and he sighed as he flicked the light on.
It was an older complex, and it was dated, but he was meticulous at cleaning and it was practically spotless. And nothing looked amiss, so he flicked the light back off and kept walking into his bedroom, nearly slamming the door behind him.
He’d thought the nice would be fun, and relaxed, where he’d get to hang out with his friends and just have a good time. But Aelin Galathynius never let it be that simple.
-----
Rowan woke up the next morning to an incessant beeping. Rolling over and burying his face into his pillow, he flung an arm out to turn it off. Silence settled over the room again, and he was tempted to fall back asleep, but he forced his eyes open instead.
It was still dark out, made only more so by the blackout curtains he kept in his bedroom. But his day was already starting.
He dragged himself out of bed, shuffling to the kitchen and hitting brew on his coffee pot. While that was going, he went back into the bathroom, splashing his face with water to wake himself up a bit more, sighing as he looked at himself in the mirror.
He looked exhausted.
Dark circles under his eyes, messy hair, a bit of stubble that he didn’t manage to shave the day before… A wreck, that’s what he was.
More beeping signaled the coffee being ready, and Rowan traversed his way back out to the kitchen, not even bothering to shrug on a t- shirt. There was no one here, it didn’t matter if he was only half dressed. He downed a mug of black coffee before pouring another one after it, choosing to sip on this one instead as he got his toast ready.
Once that was done, he slapped a slice of butter on it, taking the plate and his coffee to the couch, where he slumped down and turned on the TV to the local news.
Yes, he watched the local news. No, he was not sixty.
It was mostly mindless as he pulled out his phone, scrolling through his emails and his schedule for the day. He had only two photo shoots on his agenda, but Maeve wanted to meet with him, so his day was instantly longer.
It probably wasn’t anything important, but she was sure to drag it out just to make him uncomfortable. She was like that, he’d quickly discovered upon getting hired. As the boss of the whole modeling agency, she relished in the power she had over all of them.
And she was even worse if anyone was late.
So Rowan drained the rest of his coffee, and went to get moving with the rest of his day.
------
The modeling agency was in a high rise office building, not too far from where he knew Aelin’s apartment was. An easy walk for her, a half hour metro ride for him.
But it was so ingrained in him now he barely felt the distance, and soon enough he was walking into his “office”, which was really a desktop in the corner of the room where all of the other low level employees and interns were, in various clumps.
He’d bought noise canceling headphones just to be able to work there, editing his photos. The incessant chatting and loud music from the other employees drove him crazy, unlike the deafening noise of the city.
He slid down into his chair, shoving those headphones in as he wiggled the mouse to turn on the screen, before inputting his SD card into the monitor and pulling up the pictures he’d taken the day before.
In each portfolio, he’d learned a model needs a simple headshot, a bodyshot, a swimsuit shot, either an editorial or commercial shot depending on their specialization, a smiling shot, and then a strong closing shot. So six photographs in the end, but dozens more he had to photograph and edit before finalizing.
He pulled up the first folder, and got started.
An hour later, he closed out of his editing site, taking out his headphones and shutting off his computer. He tucked his chair back under the desk and grabbed his camera bag, slinging it over his shoulder as he headed to the back room, where the shoot was set up.
But on his way, he caught sight of Aelin, sitting in Maeve’s office like she owned it, waiting for the other woman herself to appear. The blonde was in high heels, of course, but with a dress on this time, one that highlighted her curves but weren’t glued to them. Her hair was swept up in a voluminous half up half down, revealing the sweep of her neck.
She looked good, like always, and he hated himself for the rush of heat that spiked through him. Though it cooled when she spotted him through the glass walls, giving him a certain gesture in return.
Rowan just frowned and dismissed her, continuing on his way. He had more important things to do than bother with her.
When he got to the studio in the back, the model was already there, her blonde hair pulled sleekly back into a bun with natural makeup on per the requirements of the headshot. Which is what they’d start with.
Remelle was her name, if he remembered his schedule correctly.
She was new, he supposed, and it made sense because he probably would’ve remembered seeing her before. It was a model agency, of course they’d all be stunning, but she was stunning in a particular way - gorgeous, but almost like she was missing something.
“Are you my photographer?” She asked, smiling at him in a way that had his guard going up.
“Yes,” Rowan answered, frowning slightly and ignoring her look as he went to set up the camera. He was used to being on the receiving end of some flirting here, he wasn’t modest he knew he was at least somewhat good looking. When he wasn’t working, he was at the gym, trying to get rid of everything in his head through mindless exercise.
But this girl was looking at him like he was a piece of meat, making him decidedly uncomfortable, so he tried not to accidentally pay her any mind, focusing entirely on being professional.
Even if Remelle was beautiful, he’d be stupid as hellas if he messed with her and risked losing one of the only opportunities he had.
------
Aelin swung her foot back and forth like a pendulum as she waited for Maeve to appear. She’d been sitting in her office for nearly fifteen minutes, just sitting by herself. It wasn’t surprising, Maeve was always like this, had to remind you of who really held the power.
Yes, Aelin was one of the highest paid models in the entire country, effectively the world too, but she wouldn’t be anywhere near she was without Maeve.
Aelin didn’t like to admit it, but it was true.
So she’d wait. She’d be patient.
She’d already flicked off Rowan as he passed, dressed in his stupid little jeans and polo shirt. He worked at a model agency, he couldn’t get better clothes? He looked good in them though, she couldn’t deny that.
The jeans hugged him nicely, and his arms in those shirts of his. They would’ve made her mouthwater if she didn’t have enough self control.
If he wasn’t such an asshole, he’d be exactly her type. But fortunately, she could control herself, and any desire she had for him was tempered by his entire personality.
The door clicked open, and Maeve soon entered her own office, her heels tapping against the floor as she made her way over to her desk, sliding into place gracefully.
“Aelin,” she greeted with a smile. But the smile was cold. “Lovely to see you today.”
“You too, Maeve,” Aelin replied, just as icily. But her boss was already flipping through Aelin’s file, pulling out whatever she wanted to talk about in this spontaneous meeting. Aelin wasn't even supposed to come into the office today; she was supposed to go straight to Lysandra’s fashion company actually, to do a consultation for their runway show.
It was great getting to work with her best friend, and Aelin had been excited for today. But this was getting in the way.
“What did you want to discuss with me?” She said, a bit exasperated. Maeve just flipped through the folder casually, betraying how little of a rush she was in.
“You’ve been contacted for an exciting opportunity,” the brunette woman said, and Aelin raised her brows. “You’ve worked with them before but it’s been a long time. I never thought they’d want you again considering that time span, so you’d do best to act nice for them.”
Aelin narrowed her eyes, fighting the urge to cross her arms. Instead, she reached for one of the vegan cookies Maeve kept in a dish on her desk. Cookies should be surprising in a model agency, but they were so absurdly healthy that Aelin was sure she’d lose more calories from digesting it than she’d even get from eating it.
But it was something to keep her occupied and not fidgety.
That was, until Maeve eyed her carefully, finally looking up from the papers. “You’d do well to watch your weight,” she chastised, and the cookie turned to ash in her mouth. “You’ve been looking a little thicker around the waist lately.”
“I lost ten pounds last month,” Aelin said, trying not to argue. And trying not to sound too weak.
“And we agreed on fifteen,” Maeve said, “you have to be looking your best if you don’t want to lose everything we’ve worked for.”
She nodded vaguely, not looking at her. The cookie settled uncomfortably in her stomach.
“Who am I working with?” Aelin changed the topic, forcing a polite smile onto her face.
But Maeve’s smile back was anything but polite.
“Rifthold Fashion,” she answered, naming one of the oldest and most iconic fashion magazines in the entire country of Adarlan, the entire world.
Aelin should be happy that she was getting another shot with them. She’d done a shoot with them when she was eighteen, a profile about being an up and comer in the industry. But she hadn’t been there since.
And now, she only felt sick.
She didn’t remember how she managed to finish the conversation, all she could feel was the growing nausea inside of her. And when Maeve dismissed her, she couldn’t wait any longer before heading straight to the bathroom, dropping to her knees, and vomiting into the toilet.
She shuddered as she let out all of the meager amount of things she’d eaten that day, the bile tasting bitter as she spit into the ceramic.
Another wave went through her and she retched again, panting before leaning her head against the tile wall.
Invisible hands trailed along her body and she curled up into a ball, trying to fight the feeling. Her heels slipped off her feet and a few tears slipped out of her eyes.
Gods. She shouldn’t be having such a visceral reaction to just the idea of going back there, to the idea of seeing that man.
She squeezed her eyes shut, letting out a rough sigh. She was better than this. She needed to get over it, otherwise she’d never be able to advance her career. She’d never be able to live.
So she uncurled herself, standing up weakly, smoothing her hair back and wiping her mouth as she headed to the door. But, when she opened it, she found someone standing on the other side.
-----
Rowan had finished up the shoot with Remelle, unable to stop her from giving him her number, and was on the way out of the studio when he heard something coming from the bathroom as he passed.
It sounded like someone was getting sick, and he frowned, stopping. He was about to knock on the door and ask if they were okay, whoever it was, but he hesitated, and soon enough the door was opening on its own.
And he blinked at the sight.
It was Aelin, her high heels in her hand, her hair messy and her eyes… they looked a little wild, and sad, tears staining her cheeks with streaks of her mascara.
He didn’t even know what to say.
“Oh,” she said, looking away and quickly wiping at her eyes with her free hand. His heart ached and he didn’t know why. He was just frozen as she bent down, sliding her shoes back onto her feet. And then she said, “if you’ll excuse me,” and she rushed past him, tucking her hair behind her ears as she hurried down the hallway and out of sight.
Leaving Rowan alone, and more confused than he’d ever been in his life.
-------
Aelin raced around her apartment, getting the finishing touches in the decor perfectly right before everyone arrived. It was just a simple get together, they weren’t celebrating anything, but she always liked to think along the lines of that every get together was worth celebrating, so she wanted to make it look as nice as possible.
She’d even swept and vacuumed, which she usually had to force herself to remember to do. And she’d straightened everything up, getting drinks and setting up a little bar area in the kitchen, as well as some sparkly decorations to give the room some pizazz.
Then she pranced over to her record player, putting on a nice jazzy album and dimming the lights just as the first person knocked.
She smiled, fixing her dress and heading over to the door. It was just the usual crew coming over, plus a few extras, but like she said, why not make every occasion a special one?
But when she opened the door, her smile dropped into an awkward frown. Rowan was there, and looking decidedly uncomfortable when he realized he was the first one.
Aelin hated that he’d seen her coming out of the bathroom earlier, looking like she’d just gone through hell. Because she had in a way, or at least revisited it in her mind. She kept trying to push the memory down, and most of the time she was successful, but that just meant whenever it did come up, it came up stronger. Especially now that she’d be seeing him again.
But Rowan didn’t need to know that.
“Come in,” she said politely, forcing a smile back on her face as she stepped to the side, holding the door open for him. Rowan looked just as awkward as her, but he was watching her in a way that made her fidget, like he was waiting for her to fall apart again just so he could inspect what had caused her to break.
They hadn’t seen each other at the agency today, so it hadn’t been since the bathroom incident that they’d had any interaction at all. Which just made this even worse.
“There’s drinks over there,” she gestured loosely to the kitchen, shutting the door and following him into the apartment. “You can set your food over on that table.”
Rowan had a plate of what looked like… green beans? She blinked at it, but didn’t question him as he went and set it down where she’d directed him to. Maybe she’d even give them a try.
As he did that, she went back to the record player, wanting something to fiddle with instead of talking to him, or even looking at him. She felt exposed, and vulnerable now that he’d seen her like that. She did so well at hiding all of her true emotions, not even her cousin knew when she was really hurting, and unintentionally she’d just revealed them all to a man she knew didn’t like her.
“That’s nice music,” that same man said, and she glanced over, a little surprised at the neutral statement. He was still looking at her oddly, and she blushed a little, insecurity racing through her.
“Thank you,” she said, clearing her throat and turning back around. “This album was a favorite of my dad’s, we used to listen to it together.” The words were like a dagger to her heart, a pain so intense she had to fight back tears. But she just sniffed and forced a mocking smile to her face as she looked at him again.
“I’m surprised you even know what good music is,” she teased, though it sounded more like an insult. “You seem like the type to sit around in utter silence.” Maybe she did mean it as an insult, just to regain some familiar territory. And she was successful, as his face turned cold, but she didn’t know if that made her feel better or not.
Luckily, she was saved by another knock at the door, and she turned her attention to the new guest, ignoring Rowan once again.
----
Soon enough, the party was in full swing, and Rowan didn’t speak to Aelin again for the next few hours. If it wasn’t for the fact that they usually never talked, he would say she was avoiding him, always flitting away to different people whenever their proximity threatened conversation.
She was wearing a gauzy silver dress, and it was almost like she was another one of her sparkly decorations, floating around the room, always there but never in one place for long.
Rowan, on the other hand, didn’t move from the chair he’d planted himself in, sipping on a beer and generally not participating in the revelry. He couldn’t help but watch her though, trying to tie this image of her, smiling and carefree, with the one from the day before, wide eyed and scared almost.
Which one was real? Which one was a mask?
He was intrigued in a way he hadn’t been in a long time, but it was clear she wasn’t open to him trying to pry, if the way she’d shut down the brief, awkward conversation earlier was any indication. Fair enough. Just because he’d accidentally seen her when she clearly wasn’t expecting any eyes didn’t mean he had any right to know more.
And yet…
His gaze was on hers as she perched on the edge of her fancy couch, right next to her friend Dorian, laughing as she worked on another plate of his green beans, to his satisfaction. It was her third one.
Despite the plentiful other options the other guests had brought, she’d stuck with those. It was an old recipe his mom had used to make, before she passed, and he’d perfected it over the past couple of years. And if Aelin, the self declared sugar purist, liked them, he knew he was doing something right.
He’d always thought it was strange how obsessed she was with sugar, for being a model. Though he knew she also exercised like crazy. But still, for how unhealthily she ate, she was essentially a twig. Maybe she had a fast metabolism? Some people were like that.
Still, she looked like she could snap in half with the smallest breeze.
The typical model body, he supposed.
“Gods, Aelin,” Aedion teased, good naturedly, from his spot in the kitchen talking to Lorcan. The jazz music was still on, though it was a different album this time. “I didn’t even know you knew what a green bean was.”
Rowan watched, like he was looking through a glass wall, as Aelin threw her cousin an unkind gesture.
“I’m surprised you do,” she teased, raising her brows. Though, maybe Rowan was imagining things, but he could’ve sworn her cheeks turned slightly pink. “I’m allowed to stray from sugar for one night.”
It was Elide’s turn to snort, the petite brunette nudging Aelin’s leg with her shoe. “I served broccoli at my apartment last week and you asked me what it was.”
“You know,” Aelin said, shaking her head, clearly fighting a smile. “I don’t like this conversation.” Her friends continued heckling her, all of them eventually breaking into laughter, but Rowan still didn’t join in, choosing to observe instead.
That’s how he didn’t miss when she set the plate down on the table. And didn’t pick it up again.
Nor did he miss when she excused herself quietly, slipping away from the party easily.
Rowan was tempted to follow her, to see if she was okay, to see if her mask was gone once again, he didn’t know. But he didn’t. He just sat there sipping his beer, wondering why he cared so much about a girl he was supposed to hate.
And he knew he was a fool when she came back out a few minutes later, looking as perky as ever. The bathroom, she’d just gone to the fucking bathroom.
She didn’t need his concern. And he certainly didn’t need to give it to her.
------
The party didn’t end until late into the night, and Aelin was exhausted and a little dizzy as she crashed back down on her couch, her cousin by her side. Lysandra couldn’t make it that night, having a pressing work thing occupying her time, so Aedion was staying over, taking the chance for some quality family time.
She yawned as she leaned her head against his shoulder, tucking her feet up under her as he turned on the TV, immediately going to the sports channel and watching a rerun of a football game from earlier that evening.
Her stomach was still roiling from those green beans, even if she’d tried to take care of the problem.
“Who’s playing?” Aelin asked, trying to avoid the topic in her mind. Aedion didn’t even turn to her as he answered, eyes glued on the game.
“The Rifthold Ravens and Terrasen Stags,” he said, “Stags are up by 3 but the Ravens are in field goal territory. So they could either tie it or go for a touchdown.”
“Shit,” she said, sitting up a little, “well we can’t let the Ravens win.” Her eyes went to the screen too, immediately clocking what was going on. Aelin had grown up with Aedion, even before her parents died. He’d moved in with them when she was very little after his mom had died, so she’d grown up watching football.
And even if they lived in Rifthold now, they were both from Terrasen, and therefore were both Stags fans for life.
Her dad had been too.
“If they tie we have to go into overtime,” Aelin frowned, watching as they lined up for the final play, the dark purple uniforms of the Ravens lined up against the green uniforms of the Stags. Her heart was beating way too fast as the Ravens hiked the ball, the quarterback running back to find someone to throw too.
“Go, go, go,” Aedion was calling, watching the Terrasen defense. Aelin joined him, nearly jumping out of her seat as the quarterback threw the ball and -
“YES!” Her cousin shouted as a Terrasen player intercepted the ball in the end zone. The whole team raced over to him, hitting each other and shoving each other in the way that only guys feel the need to do. But Aelin was up and dancing in celebration with Aedion as the final score rang out.
24 - 21 in favor of the Stags.
Aelin laughed as Aedion pumped his fist to the ceiling, celebrating as if he himself was the player who’d caught the ball.
“Fuck yeah!” He yelled, “that’s right you Rifthold fuckers! We’ll show you what real football looks like!”
“Gods,” Aelin laughed, shaking her head, “you’ve gotten worse. Which I didn’t think was possible.”
“This is real life, Aelin,” Aedion said, pointing at the TV, a wild smile on his face. “Not you and Lys’ fashion world, this is all that matters, right here.” Aelin didn’t even take offense, knowing he didn’t mean it like that. She just snorted, and shook her head, trying to shake away some of the dizziness that’d taken over.
Was it hot in here? Or was it just her? Her legs trembled, clearly weak, and she figured she needed to sit down.
“Are you going to start praying to the TV now?” She mocked, plopping back down on the couch. It wasn’t instant relief, but she was certainly in less danger of passing out.
“Hey,” he said, sitting back down too as the TV faded back to the sportscasters, ready to give commentary on what they’d just seen. “I’m not as bad as Rhoe was. Remember the championship about ten years ago?”
Two years before he died.
But Aelin chuckled slightly, remembering how enthusiastic her dad had been, how angry he’d been at the refs for bad calls, how happy he’d been when the Stags came out victorious.
They faded into silence, Aedion watching the TV and Aelin staring at nothing, falling deep into the trap of her own head once again.
It was a vicious place to be.
“Hey Aed?” She asked him, an uncountable amount of time later. “Do you ever think about them?”
She risked a glance over at him, seeing his face slip into sadness that she wished she could wipe away. But he looked back at her, too much knowing in his eyes for her. It made her want to hide.
“Of course,” he said, looping his arm over her shoulder, ruffling her hair a bit as he tucked her into his side. “All the time.”
Heat pricked at her eyes, and she blinked quickly before a tear could slip out. Their death had been so sudden, a simple car crash. Here one minute, gone the next, leaving her utterly alone.
“You know,” Aedion said, after another minute. “If you’re still struggling you can talk to me about it. I’m always here for you.” She looked up at him, seeing the honesty in his eyes.
Aelin had gone to therapy for a brief period of time after moving in with Aedion, when she was fifteen. It’d ended fairly quickly, but he’d always suggested that she could go back. Or at least recommended she keep an open mind.
Not that he even knew the depth of it now. Nor the heaps of things that’d been added onto her plate.
“I’m okay,” she lied, painting a small smile on her face. “But thank you for checking in.”
Aedion looked at her, and she tried to make her expression look more sincere. He sighed. “I love you, kid,” he said, and she made a noise of protest.
“Three years older, Aedion,” she said, “you’re only three years older.” He just laughed.
“And I will forever hold it against you,” he said, and it was her turn to sigh. But she rested her head on his shoulder, suddenly exhausted, and soon fell asleep to the dulcet sounds of football commentary, feeling both at home and like she was dropped in the middle of the ocean, drowning, with no way to swim to the surface.
———
A few days later, Rowan was mindlessly working on editing some photos in his apartment, when his email notification dinged.
He turned the screen away from Remelle’s face, pulling up the email tab instead and opening the email he’d just gotten. And groaned.
It was an invitation to an agency-wide formal party that Saturday, one he’d forgotten was happening. They’d all been alerted about it weeks ago, but Rowan had put it out of his mind, childishly hoping that if he just didn’t think about it, it wouldn’t happen.
Especially because his invitation was tagged with the words: Your presence is required. Take photos.
“Fuck,” he complained, dropping his head in a hand. He hated these things, hated how many there were. It seemed like every other week, there was some event he had to go to, doubling as a headshot photographer and an apparent publicist. Why shell out the money for two different workers when they could just overwork him?
His cousins used to make fun of him endlessly for how little he liked socialization, always refusing to go out with them after he'd moved in with them when his parents died. People were just either idiots, or prying assholes, or just obnoxious. He wasn’t a fan of going out and partying with a bunch of strangers; it’d either be with people he knew or not at all.
But now he’d be forced to socialize with a bunch of people like Remelle, who’d been texting him incessantly for the past week. Rowan tried to put her off, responding with one word or not at all, but she was persistent. And he didn’t want to block her completely, even if every text alert he got made him want to throw his phone off a roof.
Did he even have a suit? He’d have to check.
He had one from the last formal event he’d been forced to, but he wasn’t sure if it fit anymore. He’d upped the amount of times he went to the gym to lift recently, trying to get out all of his negative emotions through exercise.
Rowan was about to close out of his email and go check, when his eyes caught on another email he’d apparently missed earlier in the day. Right there in bold was the title:
The Rifthold Institute of Photography
His heart raced as he clicked it to open it, leaning back in his seat as he read the email.
He’d seen a post for a position there a few months ago, and had applied, but never heard anything back. The Institute was a museum of photography of sorts, with a magazine that they released monthly. The job he was trying to get would be an editor/contributor for the magazine, which would mean he would get to both help put the magazine together while also submitting his own pictures for consideration.
It was really his dream job. But when months passed and he hadn’t heard back, he’d given up.
But here they were.
“Dear Mr. Whitethorn,” he started to read, skimming through it. “...haven’t picked a candidate yet… narrowed down to three, we request you submit a portfolio for further consideration, keeping to the theme organic.”
It was mostly just details after that, about how to submit, how many pictures to submit, and he skimmed it all before leaning back in his chair as he read the due date.
Three weeks from now.
He released a heavy breath, nodding his head.
“You’ve got this, Rowan,” he whispered to himself, before standing up and grabbing his camera, abandoning the photos he was editing in favor of going outside to take his own.
He needed to get inspiration somehow, he needed to start planning.
Why not start now?
---------
Aelin was in the middle of a pilates workout when she got the email. It wasn’t anything she didn’t know about already, in fact she’d already had her gown specially designed and ordered, but it was nice to get confirmation that it was actually happening.
She paused the workout as she read the email, panting with sweat dripping down her forehead. The perky girl on the TV was mid crunch, but Aelin didn’t press play again, choosing instead to sit up fully on her yoga mat.
She grabbed her water bottle from next to her, guzzling at least half of it down before wiping the excess water off her chin. Uncurling her legs, she pushed herself to a stand, way too quickly apparently as her vision dimmed, her head spinning and her legs buckling from beneath her.
She crumpled back down onto the yoga mat, hands braced on the floor as she caught her breath, trying to inhale and exhale slowly until she regained control over her muscles.
Slowly but surely, the dizzy feeling went away, and she stood up, ignoring how her hands shook as she picked up her phone and headed into her closet. Well, the room that was her closet.
Maybe she should take a break from exercising, and go check out her dress instead. She pushed the hair that came out of her ponytail behind her ear as she walked into the room, sniffing as she reached the garment bag hanging up on the far wall.
Wiping her hands on her shorts, she got rid of the lingering sweat before unzipping the bag, fingering the dark green fabric inside.
It looked just as perfect as it had the day she’d first gotten it; she didn’t know what she was checking.
Everything would be perfectly fine, there was no need to worry.
If only that were always true.
---------
Maeve had sent a limo for her to get to the building for the gala. Which was useful, because Aelin didn’t have a car, nor did she have a license.
She lived in the city, she could walk everywhere she needed to go.
But she was grateful for the limo, because walking in these shoes would’ve been hell, which she knew as soon as she stepped out of the car, the five inch stilettos pinching painfully as she walked toward the door.
It was worth it though. She looked fucking good.
Her hair was swept up into a sleek updo, her golden locks shining with the bit of glitter her stylist had put in them. Her dark green dress was silky and wrapped around her curves modestly, but with a neckline that plunged all the way to her waist, leaving her sun tanned skin on display.
The skirt had a slit too, revealing her smooth legs with every step she took.
It got everyone’s attention when she got inside, drawing both male and female’s gazes alike, exactly the way she loved to. She was a model, she enjoyed knowing people found her attractive. They could look, but they certainly weren’t entitled to touch.
Though some people thought they were.
She pasted a small smile on her face as she made her way over to the drinks, grabbing a glass of champagne to sip. The lobby had been transformed into some Hollywood movie scene, with dimmed lights and golden decor and overflowing tables of drinks and food.
It was honestly excessive, but they had the money for it. Aelin knew just her percentage alone would be able to pay for all of this, let alone hers combined with all of the other models in the agency.
She took a sip of the champagne, meandering around the room.
There were a lot of people here, but none she wanted to talk to. And none of them wanted to talk to her. One of the negatives of success in this industry was the jealousy it bred among girls who thought they should be right where you are. It was only fed by the people higher up, pitting them against each other. Aelin was well aware, but it didn’t change the fact that she was generally left alone.
There was a string quartet playing music in the corner, and she unconsciously swayed to it a bit, bobbing her head in time with the violins as she wandered around to a different corner, looking for something to do.
And then she saw Rowan.
He was standing against another wall, fidgeting with that camera of his. Apart from that, and the dark expression on his face, he blended right in with the party in his suit and white button up shirt, and a dark green tie that unfortunately perfectly matched her dress.
He looked like a guest, not an employee, though she knew Maeve made him take photos during events like these.
Finally finding something to do, Aelin set her feet toward him, heading in his direction. Arguing with him would be perfect entertainment.
Or maybe she could ask him how he made those green beans. Even if she’d eaten way too many of them, if she could learn the recipe and make them herself, she could eat them sparingly throughout the week.
Aelin could tell the exact moment he saw her coming, because he stiffened slightly, his eyes narrowing at her approach.
She hated to admit it, but he looked good. His light hair was tousled perfectly, his tan skin and that tattoo of his peeking slightly out of the collar of his shirt. She wasn’t necessarily a tattoo person, but on him it was mouthwatering.
“Shall I pose for you?” She mocked, and he rolled his eyes, fidgeting with some buttons on his camera.
“Don’t you have enough photos of yourself?” Rowan asked, lifting up his camera to snap a picture of the crowd, the way the lens fluttered so familiar to her.
“Is that possible?” Aelin replied, lifting her brows. “Especially when I look as good as I do now.”
He turned his dark gaze back to her, and she swore she could physically feel it as his eyes traced up and down her entire body, her breath stuttering in her chest involuntarily.
“You always look like this,” he said, and she narrowed her eyes, her heels clicking as she took a step toward him.
“Do I, Rowan Whitethorn?” She asked, tilting her head, but he continued to ignore her, his jaw clenched tightly as he took another picture.
“I don’t pay enough attention to you to notice,” he said after a moment, “get your fulfillment from one of your millions of followers on instagram instead, because you won’t get anything from me.”
And then she was watching him walk away, his camera hooked around his neck as he went to find someone else to terrorize from behind the lens.
The rest of the party went by dreadfully slowly after that, and with each sip of champagne, she got angrier and angrier at him. At his sheer audacity. So what, they didn’t like each other, but did he have to be like that?
No, fuck him.
Soon enough, she knew her cheeks with flushed with alcohol and rage, and she was searching for him again, so she could show him a piece of her mind. But he wasn’t anywhere in the main lobby, so she had to go looking, heading down different hallways in her heels, desperately looking for him to rage at.
He was always an asshole, but this time for some reason, to her it was crossing a line.
Weaving her way back through the lower floor hallways, Aelin ignored the way her feet ached in her heels, desperately searching for this godsdamned man. And eventually she found him, wrapped around another blonde.
He was further down the hallway, his camera bag on the ground and his back against the wall, the blonde leaning up against him.
She narrowed her eyes but slowed down, not wanting to intrude on whatever this was.
“Come on,” she heard the blonde say, faintly from the far distance. “You know you want to.”
“I told you to leave me alone, Remelle,” came Rowan’s voice, and Aelin saw him try to carefully pry Remelle’s hands away from his chest. “I’m not interested.”
“Of course you are,” Remelle said, “just admit it.”
“Remelle-” Rowan said, but he was cut off by the blonde kissing him, which made Aelin see red so much she was stomping over there, lifting up her dress so she wouldn’t trip on the hem.
“Hey!” She shouted, and Remelle pulled back, both of them looking over at her in shock. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Do you not understand the meaning of the word no?”
Remelle just scoffed, showing a lot of nerve for someone who’d clearly just started out here. Aelin had never seen her fucking face in her life.
“And who are you?” Remelle said, raising her pale brows, and Aelin narrowed her eyes, sinking into a hip.
“I’m Aelin Galathynius,” she said, watching as the other girl’s face paled. Even if Remelle had somehow managed to never see her face, she would know her name. And how important she was. “And you better leave Rowan alone, and every other man you’ve tried to touch without their permission, otherwise I’ll have a little chat with Maeve and see if she’s still interested in taking you on.”
Remelle’s face tightened in challenge, but she didn’t dare to respond, clearly seeing that Aelin meant what she was saying.
“Now get the fuck out of here before I decide to go talk to her right now.” Aelin gestured out of the hallway, not saying another word until Remelle followed her instruction, with as much dignity as she could manage, which wasn’t a lot.
Eventually, her and Rowan were alone, and she looked up at him, trying to gauge his reaction. No one should ever touch someone without their permission; she felt shaky at the thought.
But Rowan… looked angry.
“What’s your problem?” She decided to ask, set on edge by the way his jaw was clenched. And maybe her first thought shouldn’t have been how handsome he looked when he was mad. “I just saved your ass.”
“I don’t need your help,” he spat, and she recoiled, tensing at the challenge.
“You sure looked like you did,” Aelin argued, stepping closer, “or was that all part of your plan to woo her? Because that’s a little fucked up.”
“Gods,” he cursed, “you’re so godsdamned irritating.” He pushed off the wall, stepping toward her too. “Why do you have to always be so… important?” She let out an indignant noise. “My savior, my hero, when really, you’re just a pain in my ass.”
“Oh really?” She questioned, narrowing her eyes and taking one more step. “Well, you’re just the same to me,” she said, with equal vitriol, trying to ignore the way his breath felt against her face as he huffed.
It was only then she realized just how close they were, how there were only inches between them. How if she lifted her head just enough, and he lowered his just enough, their lips would be touching.
The hot anger in her stomach melded into something different, and the flush on her cheeks was no longer from the alcohol as he seemed to realize the same thing, his dark gaze dropping down to her lips.
She dared to lift her chin, her breaths coming out heavy as heat raced through her. Rowan dipped his chin in response, closing the distance until the edges of their lips just grazed past each other, their breaths mingling. One little inch and they’d be kissing, but neither of them made the move.
Heavy hands settled on her hips, and she had just enough time to clutch at his shoulders before he was taking a step forward, guiding her until she was against the wall. His head dropped down to press a hot kiss to the underside of her jaw, and she made a breathy noise, feeling hot all over.
Her eyes fell closed, and she clutched at his collar, warmth pooling in her core as he stepped closer, letting her feel every hard inch of him against her. One of his hands slid across her stomach and down her thigh, reaching for her exposed leg and holding it up to step in even closer.
His other hand moved until it was brushing the skin exposed by the neckline of her dress, sliding up her stomach until it reached the bare skin right under her breasts, his callouses rough against her.
Gods, she didn’t think she’d ever been this turned on in her life.
His attention returned to her neck, even as his fingers dug into her, undoubtedly leaving little marks. And her breath hitched as he placed hot, wet kisses down her throat, finally settling on the junction of her neck and shoulder, daring to nibble slightly.
An embarrassingly loud moan escaped her, but the groan he let out against her took all embarrassment away and she reached to loosen his tie, sliding her hands under the collar of his shirt to feel all of his deliciously hot skin.
The room felt damp with desire, sweat undeniably coating her body with all of the heat racing through her. Her core throbbed with need as he pressed against her, the friction between them both delectable and overwhelming.
She needed him, she needed him right now. She needed the clothes to be gone, she needed him holding her roughly against the wall as he slid into her, making her feel like she’d never felt before.
He dragged his tongue against the sweaty skin of her neck, and she couldn’t hold herself back anymore.
“Rowan,” she moaned, clutching him desperately, hoping he’d take the hint to do more. But instead, he pulled back roughly, shaking his head.
“Shit,” he cursed, his hands clenching into fists.
“What -”
“No, we can’t,” was all he said while shaking his head, before quickly fixing his tie and combing his hair. And before she could even blink, he scooped up his camera from the ground and nearly ran away, leaving her cold. And wanting.
And regretting every bit of that moment as much as him.
----------
Several days passed, and yet Rowan couldn’t get that damned moment out of his head. He couldn’t forget the way Aelin’s skin had felt under his finger tips, the way her throat had felt against his mouth, the way her body had melded to his.
He’d let himself go for those few minutes, and he regretted it, but he couldn’t help it with how she’d looked in that dress. She was always stunning, but that night she’d been ethereal, and mouthwatering, and way too damn much for his self control.
And the way she’d moaned his name… he wanted nothing more than that to rid both of them of all their clothes and see what other sounds he could make, but he also knew this was clearly a heat of the moment thing.
Yes, she was attractive, but that didn’t mean he should forget every single other thing about her.
He needed some actual self control.
Soon enough though, he found something else to occupy his mind other than the lingering scent of jasmine in his nose. The portfolio.
He still had over two weeks, but the clock was ticking and he still had nothing to show for the days he’d been brainstorming.
So much so that he was fighting the urge to stay home and work instead of going out to dinner with Lorcan and Elide like he was supposed to. But while he knew Lorcan would understand, he also knew Elide would have his head if he skipped again.
Lorcan was his oldest friend, and Elide was the first one of his current friend group he was introduced to, so he felt closer to them two than anyone else. Maybe he could talk out his situation with them, see what they’d say.
The portfolio situation though, not the Aelin situation. No, that was to be kept locked up tight, and blamed on the champagne and the stress, nothing more.
That’s how he found himself walking down 4th avenue a few hours later, hands tucked in his pockets until he reached the restaurant, ducking in and quickly finding the pair sitting down already.
“Hey,” Rowan said a bit lamely, plopping into the chair across from them.
“What’s got your panties in a twist?” Elide questioned, immediately gauging something was wrong. Lorcan just grunted a hello, sipping on his drink.
“Work stuff,” Rowan tried to dismiss, but Elide just raised a dark brow. He sighed. “I have a big job opportunity but I need a portfolio prepared and I have no inspiration for the theme they’re giving me.”
“Hmm,” she said, nodding her head. “What’s the theme?”
“Organic,” he said, raising his brows. “It’s really vague, which is useful sometimes but now it just leaves me with nothing.”
Elide leaned back in her chair, stirring her straw in her drink as she thought. They sat in silence as they all contemplated, letting the rock music of the dive bar take over. Rowan just ran through the same ideas he’d already thought of in his head over and over, finding the same faults yet again.
“What about a series of candids?” Elide finally piped in. “I’m no photographer, but that would be organic. You could keep it in the same day, or same event, to keep it consistent. But just to show an organic slice of humanity.”
Rowan considered the thought for a moment before nodding. “That could work,” he said, running through logistics in his head. Even if it didn’t, it was worth a shot. “Who would they be of though?” He asked, thinking it was a reasonable question, but Elide snorted.
“You act like we don’t know a professional model,” she said, and his stomach dropped.
“She won’t want to,” he said automatically, shaking his head. That would be unbearably awkward after what had happened. They’d only seen each other once at the office since then, and it was horrible, he couldn’t imagine spending a whole day with just her.
No, he couldn’t.
But Elide clearly thought differently.
“I’ll convince her,” she said, waving off his concern. “Don’t worry.”
Little did she know, that’s exactly what he was going to do.
---------
The universe seemed to be playing a trick on her, forcing her to stop exercising nearly every day in favor of some all important notification.
She was in the middle of her morning run, about to hit a new record of six miles, when she got the email. At first, she didn’t understand what it was, but after slowing the treadmill down to a walk so she could focus on it better, she figured it out.
Ms. Galathynius,
It’s a pleasure to be working with you again after so long. I’m personally very excited to get the opportunity to see your progress after all of these years, and am certainly glad to be able to say I contributed to catapulting your career.
After all, where would you be without me?
Attached is a document detailing more information about the shoot itself: what you’ll be expected to provide versus what we’ll give you, as well as the general schedule and the plan for the day.
Feel free to email my secretary with any questions you may have.
Arobynn Hamel
Aelin’s chest felt too tight as she finished reading, and she quickly shut her phone off and started the treadmill back up, putting the pace even faster than it had been before. Maybe she could run away from the feelings attempting to snatch her and drag her down into hell.
He was either pretending it’d never happened and acting like everything was fine, or attempting to subtly use his power over her yet again.
Either way, she felt sick.
She fought for air as she turned up the speed on the treadmill, her legs shaking and jolting with pain as she ran like her life depended on it.
“Fuck,” she cursed breathlessly, realizing only then that tears were soaking her face. Was this what it was going to be like? Her constantly feeling like shit but never being able to acknowledge it?
Was she supposed to walk into that building, stare him in the face, and pretend just like he was that nothing was wrong?
She let out a sob, wiping at her cheek roughly as she kept running. Maybe she’d run herself to death and never have to speak to him. Would that be better?
It would be easier.
She was reaching the verge of her legs falling off completely, when her phone buzzed. She hesitated for a second, but reached for the device, reading the text alert on the screen.
It was from Elide.
> Rowan needs a model for a job application
> I told him you’d do it
> and before you say no, you owe me for last week
Aelin groaned, sufficiently distracted as she shut off the treadmill. Elide was a kick ass lawyer, and had come to help her look over her new contract for the agency after her last one was due to expire.
She hadn’t accepted any payment, just innocuously called for a favor instead. Neither of them had expected her to cash it in, but here she was.
A photo shoot with Rowan. Fuck.
That would be hellish after what had happened between them.
But at least it was modeling. If she was good at anything it was that. And Rowan was professional enough when he needed to be.
And if this was really for a job application, he was sure to take it seriously, given how much she knew he hated the job he currently had.
He disguised it well enough at the agency, but everyone knew. Maybe that was why Maeve piled on the work, out of spite.
She sighed, stepping off of the treadmill. But her knees buckled and she fell to the ground. And instead of trying to get back up, she just sat there, thinking.
A photoshoot with Rowan. There’s no telling how it could go. She wouldn’t be surprised if it devolved into an argument, but she also wouldn’t be surprised if they ended up in his bedroom, picking up where they left off the other day.
She picked up her phone, flipping to a contact that she didn’t think she’d ever texted directly. But she typed in his number, typing in the word Hey and sending it to him.
Hate or lust, it could go either way. But she supposed they were about to find out.
-----------
Rowan was fidgeting with his camera when the knock on the door sounded. It was light, but direct, like the person making it was sure this was where they were supposed to be, but didn’t know if they wanted to be there.
He felt the same way.
Regardless, he loosed a sigh and stood up, getting ready to welcome Aelin into his home.
When he pulled open the door, there she was, standing there as regal as ever. She was dressed more casually than usual, in loose jeans and a tank top, though they fit her slim body well.
Her hair was pulled back in a clip, some strands falling out in the front. She had sparse makeup on, no concealer to cover up as she blushed slightly, glancing away from him.
He felt like blushing too, but cleared his throat instead, holding the door open for her to come on.
Aelin walked in carefully, her gaze traveling around the small apartment. Neither of them spoke as she observed the place, Rowan rubbing at the back of his neck as he waited for her judgment. She’d never been here before.
“Did you take all of these yourself?” She asked, wandering over toward one of the walls, where he had a display of yes, his own photographs. Maybe it was conceited of him, but he was proud of his talent.
“Yes,” he answered, dragging a hand through his hair as he shut the door and turned to lean against it awkwardly.
Aelin seemed fixated on one in particular, of a tree from an angle right by the trunk looking up, catching the way rain streamed through the leaves.
“Where was this one taken?” She asked, tilting her head to look at it.
“The park downtown,” Rowan answered, walking over to her slowly.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been there,” she replied, and he was honestly a bit surprised. She’d lived here for almost a decade, he was pretty sure, and she’d never been there? But she shocked him even more when she said, “It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you,” he said, flushing a bit at the out of the blue compliment. She stared at it for another minute before seemingly coming to her senses, clearing her throat and looking at him, her hand tight on the bag hooked over her shoulder.
“So,” she said, not looking directly into his eyes. “I don’t know what you were thinking clothes wise, but I brought some different options.” She moved toward the couch, perching on the edge as she took out a folded stack of clothes from her bag. “But I also don’t really know what we’re doing.”
Rowan moved to sit in the chair next to the couch, trying to explain his vision.
“I don’t know how much Elide explained,” he said, leaning forward on his knees, “but this is for an application to the Rifthold Institute of Photography.” Her brows shot up. “I need to make a portfolio with the theme organic, and Elide had the idea of doing candids, so -” he sucked in a breath, “I was thinking we could just… hang out. And I could take pictures throughout the day.”
It was only late morning, so they had all day to just - be around each other.
Aelin’s face was unreadable, but eventually she nodded slowly.
“In that case,” she said, reaching toward her pile and pulling out what looked to be a long white sundress. “Does this work? It’s the most comfortable thing if I’m to be wearing it all day.” It was said with a bit of a teasing tone, and he knew that was her method of trying to offer a cease fire, which he reluctantly agreed to.
“That’s perfect,” he said, chuckling a bit, and she smiled, standing up off the couch.
“Where’s the bathroom?” she asked, and headed toward it when he pointed to the guest one in the hallway.
While she was changing, Rowan grabbed his camera bag, switching out the SD card and packing an extra just to make sure he had enough storage. He hadn’t planned out what places he wanted to go all day, but he had an idea of where he wanted to start.
----------
“So where are we going?” Aelin asked him, about twenty minutes later, as they walked down the sidewalk after having left his apartment. Rowan had one hand in his pocket, the other one on his camera bag, and just smiled lightly. He had another bag slung over his shoulder too, but he didn’t need that one yet.
“That’s a surprise,” he said, and she scoffed, lifting her sunglasses and resting them on her head, her lips twisted into a pout. Rowan chuckled under his breath, unclipping the bag to take out his camera.
After looking down to make sure the settings were right, he lifted it up, turning to the left slightly to snap a picture of her. But Aelin caught what he was doing, and turned to smile at the camera, giving her signature model face.
“Ah,” he said, moving the camera. “Candid, remember? Pretend I’m not even here.”
The dismal expression on her face made him want to laugh, and he lowered the camera completely, resolving to try again and catch her when she really wasn’t paying attention.
Eventually she clicked her tongue and didn’t press the issue, clutching her purse to her arm as she walked down the sidewalk by his side. They were getting closer and closer to their destination, and Rowan watched her out of the corner of his eyes, waiting for her reaction.
And a strange, uncomfortable feeling grew in his chest as he saw her face light up in a delighted smile, though she dimmed it quickly, as if afraid of what he’d say.
That was fair, they hated each other no more than a few days ago. He still hated her, right?
Nothing had changed, and yet everything had changed.
“It’s the park,” she said, glancing over at him cautiously, and he nodded, the corner of his lips lifting up slightly. And he patted the second bag he was carrying.
“We’re going to have a picnic,” he said, and her brows shot up. But she just followed him as he took her toward the very tree he’d photographed.
She seemed to recognize it, smirking a bit as he set out a blanket. “No rain this time?” She asked, and he let out a huff of a laugh.
“Luckily no,” he said, sitting down a bit uncomfortably on the hard ground, his legs out in front of him. Aelin curled up gracefully next to him, the skirt of her dress floating down softly around her.
He didn’t have much food to bring with him, but he unpacked a few cut up sandwiches, and a tupperware container of grapes. Like a grade school kid’s lunch.
“What a feast,” she said, and he frowned, prepared to defend himself, but she was smiling. He realized it was a joke and he relaxed, though a bit unfamiliar still with this comradery.
It wouldn’t last.
But for now, he just enjoyed the sunshine and the fresh air and the food, and after a few minutes he took out his camera again, finally snapping the very first picture of what would hopefully be his new life.
It was a strange thing to say, and completely random, but it was true.
She’d thought it when she’d entered only that morning. It was quaint, and fairly small, but decked out in a vintagey 70s style almost, with a record player of his own in the corner and a jewel toned comfortable couch. And his photographs… she could spend hours just staring at them. He was truly talented.
And now, late in the evening with the soft bar lighting on, a vinyl crackling on the record player, two glasses of whiskey and monopoly in front of her, she thought she would be fine if she stayed here forever.
She laughed as Rowan rolled the dice, his little statue moving until he landed on the go to jail square for the fourth time this game.
“Sucker!” She pointed, giggling a bit. Alright, maybe she was on her third glass of whiskey. But she wasn’t going to stop. She felt all warm and fuzzy inside, and Rowan even let her smile brightly at the camera this time as he snapped yet another picture.
And then it was her turn to roll, and she moved the little dog statue four squares to the right, clapping in delight when she realized it was free to buy. “I’ll take it!” She said, reaching for her giant stack of fake bills.
She cackled as Rowan rolled again, hoping to get doubles, but failed, leaving him stuck in jail for another turn.
“Just pay to get out,” she advised, waving at the meager stack of funds on his side of the board.
“I don’t have enough,” he said, and he sounded so miserable, she nearly wanted to cry.
“Aww,” she said instead, pouting at him and reaching for her money. “Here,” she added, pulling out a couple of hundreds and flinging them out at him. “You have to properly compete with me.”
He didn’t take the money, but he did grab his camera again, and she fluttered the paper bills in front of her face, looking at him demurely.
When they’d returned to his apartment after the picnic, a quick stint in a bookstore and coffee shop, and then a brief walk through downtown, she’d changed out of her dress into a comfortable sweater and leggings, fuzzy socks on her feet.
She’d never been this dressed down around him, but she didn’t feel uncomfortable.
He’d changed too, into a soft looking t-shirt and sweatpants, and was lounging on the rug with her, sipping on his whiskey just like she was. She didn’t think he was quite as tipsy as her though; he had a lot more mass to absorb the alcohol.
“Do you want some dessert?” He asked as he uncurled himself to a stand, breaking her thoughts. “I have some gluten free muffins I made the other day.”
She wrinkled her nose, for a multitude of reasons. “That’s a sorry excuse for dessert,” she said, all high and mighty. Besides, she’d already splurged too much today. She’d nibbled on the sandwiches earlier, and some grapes, and then had shared a pastry with him at the cafe, and even ate a few pieces of chicken for dinner an hour or so ago. She couldn’t afford any more.
Her mood sank to the gutter nearly immediately, and in an attempt to stave it off she hopped to her feet, heading toward the bottle of whiskey on the counter.
Twirling on her feet a bit, she poured herself another glass, relishing in the burn as she took a sip.
But a little dizzy at the same time, she decided it was best to sit down, plopping down on one of the barstools by the counter. Rowan grabbed his camera and came to join her, abandoning the “dessert”. What a health nut.
She didn’t eat it anymore, but at least she knew what actual dessert was.
Her chest clenched painfully, and she forced a smile onto her face, trying to keep the light mood of the evening going. Or night, really. The sun had long gone down, and yet, she was still here.
“Are you happy with your life?” She asked Rowan quietly, swirling the whiskey in her glass. He eyed her carefully.
“I would say so, generally,” he replied.
“What does that feel like?” She asked, her voice way too vulnerable, and she forced a laugh, avoiding his questioning eyes. “Just in case I decide to quit and move in to sleep on your absurdly comfortable couch, I have to figure out if it’d be worth it.”
Rowan chuckled, and she was both relieved and kicking herself at the deflection. Why would he care?
Aelin took another too large sip of her whiskey, hiccuping a bit as a notification pinged on her phone. She looked down, wiping her mouth as she glanced at the email, her stomach sinking when she saw it was another update on the schedule for the shoot at Rifthold Fashion.
“What’s that?” Rowan asked from his place next to her, clearly seeing her expression falter, and she laughed once, humorlessly as she tucked her socked feet up on the barstool with her. He snapped another picture of her, curled up and casual, before letting her answer.
“A shoot at Rifthold Fashion,” she said, “with Mr. Arobynn Hamel himself.” She shook her head, gulping down some more of the burning alcohol.
Rowan’s face twisted in distaste. “I’ve always heard that guy was a bit of an asshole.” It was a surprising statement. He was a powerful figure in the fashion world; either you’d never met him and assumed he was fine, or you had and were unable to speak against him for one reason or another. She’d never heard anyone admit what the rumors around him actually were, especially so casually, so maybe that’s why she said what she did.
“He assaulted me when I was eighteen,” she said, almost relishing in the shock on his face as she let out a burst of hysterical giggles. The alcohol was racing way too quickly through her weakened body. “I’ve never told anyone that.” She shook her head, covering her trembling mouth with an equally shaky hand.
“Aelin-“ he said, his face white as a sheet.
“Oh gods,” she sighed, before laughing again. “It’s not funny,” she tried to convince herself. She knew it wasn’t, but it was better to laugh than to break down completely. “It’s pretty horrible actually. It was one of my first big shoots, and he cornered me in the dressing room and I-“
She looked at Rowan, though his figure was slightly blurry, filled with the sudden need to convince him.
“I didn’t know what to do,” she explained, “I didn’t want to be blacklisted, I was a nobody. I came from nothing, I was nothing, and I am nothing now.”
A sob burst out of her, and she quickly wiped at her face, her hand coming away soaking wet. She hadn’t even realized she was crying. She shook her head.
“Gods, I’m sorry,” she said, in between sobs, setting her drink down and weakly rubbing her face to try and stop her tears. “I look like a lunatic right now.” She was sure her mascara was leaking down her cheeks, hooking down under her jaw. She couldn’t look like this, she couldn’t look anything less than perfect.
She scrubbed at her face, using her nails to try and pry off the stains. But a large, warm hand grabbed hers, stopping her in her tracks.
“Hey,” Rowan said, softer than Aelin thought she’d ever heard him. His face wasn’t quite gentle, he wasn’t exactly a gentle person, but it was open, not hard. She sniffed, and closed her eyes as his other hand came up to cup her cheek, more tears spilling out of her closed lashes.
She’d never felt his touch on her skin like this before, with just comfort instead of desire, and she liked the way his callouses felt against her soft cheek. So different from someone else’s hands, hands she could still feel all over her, no matter how many showers she took, no matter how much she tried to starve herself, both trying to wreck the body he’d touched and trying to create a perfect one so he’d never have that power over her again.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, though she didn’t know what for.
“Don’t apologize,” he said, mirroring her own thoughts, and she cracked open her eyes, barely seeing him through the haze of tears and alcohol. His dark green eyes were as mesmerizing as they’d always been, yet more sincere than they’d ever been.
Aelin couldn’t even say anything; all she did was lift her hand to cover his own, holding it against her face.
He’d abandoned the camera, while before he’d been taking pictures every few minutes. She wondered what it must be like to live your life behind a lens. Was it better keeping that distance? Or was it lonely?
Though she supposed she lived her life in front of a lens, and there was nothing more isolating than that.
Another rebellious tear slipped out of her eye, and she sniffed again.
“Let me get you some water, okay?” Rowan offered, pulling back, and she nodded, wiping at her face as he stood up and went into the kitchen, grabbing her a glass. “Do you want to stay here tonight? I don’t really feel comfortable sending you home this late, and in this state.” He waved at her, and she chuckled slightly.
“What state do you mean?” She challenged, laughing again weakly at his flustered expression. “I’m just joking,” she amended, “you’re probably right.”
She looked at him a bit shyly. “Do you have anything I can wear? I get hot when I sleep and I don’t have anything comfortable besides this sweater.” was
Rowan blinked but nodded quickly, heading toward the back hallway. He returned with an old t-shirt, not too unlike the one he was wearing now. It was a soft, dark green material, and she had the feeling she’d never want to take it off.
“Does this work?” He asked, and she nodded, standing up off the barstool. But the third whiskey was hitting her and she wobbled, forcing him to hurry over and steady her. His hand was warm and strong on her arm and she was tempted to lean into him, but she didn’t.
Aelin giggled a bit, making Rowan chuckle as well.
“Gods,” he teased, “I think you’re ready for bed.” She giggled again, nodding as she stumbled over her feet.
“I’ll sleep on the couch,” she said, fighting a yawn. But he shook his head.
“No, you can take the bed, I’ll stay out here on the couch.” He didn’t give her a chance to argue, just heading toward a closet in the hallway and pulling out a blanket and pillow. Aelin shuffled into the bathroom, quickly changing out of her bulky sweater and leggings into the absurdly soft t-shirt he’d given her.
It fell nearly to her knees, and completely dwarfed her, and she decided she never wanted to wear anything else.
When she left the bathroom, Rowan was getting the couch ready for himself, laying out the blanket, so she headed toward his bedroom, cheeks flushing at the thought of sleeping in his bed. But she was dreadfully tired. So she just wandered into the room, collapsing on top of the comforter.
She was content to stay there, breathing in the warm scent of pine, but Rowan knocked on the open door a few minutes later, and upon seeing her sprawled out on top of the bed, chuckled and came over to help her get more comfortable.
“Here you go,” he said, after tucking her under the comforter. She mumbled and tugged the blanket up closer to her chin, burrowing herself in his scent. “Good night, Aelin,” Rowan said, heading back toward the door. But a bit of panic shot through her.
“Rowan?” She asked quietly, and he paused, looking back at her. “Will you stay? Just for a little bit?”
He hesitated, but eventually padded over to the other side of the bed, sitting down and leaning against the headboard. His hand came out to brush against her hair, and she leaned into the touch, yawning.
“I’m sorry about everything that’s happened to you,” he murmured a few minutes later, “about everything you’ve gone through.”
“S’okay,” she mumbled, “don’t apologize.”
“If there’s anything I can do I-” he said, before trailing off. Aelin shrugged, before a thought occurred to her.
“Will you come to the shoot with me?” She asked, her voice ringing through the darkened room. She’d feel better if he was there. Rowan didn’t respond for a few minutes, and she began to regret even asking. But then-
“Of course,” he said quietly, and she relaxed, her eyes fluttering closed as he caressed her hair. “Now, get some rest, Aelin. I’ll see you in the morning.”
And to the soothing sounds of his voice and the touch of his hand, she fell asleep.
------
Rowan didn’t know what exactly had happened, but that night caused him and Aelin to go from unwilling acquaintances to something close to friends. He didn’t know if it was quite friendship, but there’d been a change. A change that meant she smiled at him quietly at the office instead of flicking him off.
And yet, every time he saw her he couldn’t help but picture that unbearable sadness that had cracked through her facade. The way she’d laughed to try and hide the tears, but they’d streamed down her face anyway.
It seemed there was a lot he didn’t know about her. And he was realizing now that he was happy to get the privilege of learning more.
He’d also decided that should he ever meet Arobynn Hamel, the man would be lucky to walk away with just a black eye.
Though he supposed he would be meeting him, since he’d agreed to go to the shoot with her. He didn’t regret the decision, but he had the feeling that she would, and would eventually tell him to just leave her alone.
He wouldn’t blame her, after everything he’d said to her throughout the years.
But he’d worry about that when it came.
For now, though, it was time for drinks.
They were all meeting again at The Stag, and Rowan had headed over there directly after work, having to stay late to catch up on some editing that he’d missed out on doing because of the day spent with Aelin. He’d also begun editing some of the photos of her, and was feeling pretty confident about how the portfolio was coming together.
It wasn’t like he didn’t know this already, but she was incredibly photogenic.
Just then, she waltzed through the doors of the bar, ten minutes late like always, and plopped down gracefully on the barstool just opposite of him, winking when she caught him looking. He couldn’t help his faint blush.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” her best friend, Lysandra said, and Aelin laughed melodically, shrugging.
“Like I’ve said multiple times before, you’re lucky I showed up.” She shocked him by snatching his drink and taking a large sip from it. But it seemed they shocked the rest of the group by his lack of response.
Just a few days ago he would’ve snapped some hateful comment at her, but now he just raised his brows and leaned back in his chair.
“As long as you go get me another one when you finish it,” was all he said, and she smiled at him slyly.
“We’ll see,” Aelin said, and he could tell they were being stared at.
“What’s going on?” Fenrys finally said, and Rowan and Aelin both looked over at him. “Are we in an alternate universe?”
“I can’t be in a good mood?” Rowan joked, and the blonde man half scoffed half laughed.
“Good mood? Rowan?” He said, “those two do not go together.”
“Maybe just not around you,” Aelin pointed out, sipping on Rowan’s drink, and Fenrys looked very affronted, making Rowan chuckle.
“I’m so confused right now,” Aedion chimed in this time, looking back and forth between the pair. “Do you two have an inside joke?”
“Stranger things have happened,” Aelin said loftily, and her cousin narrowed his eyes at her. Rowan chuckled again, though his smile faded into a groan when his phone buzzed. He didn’t even bother checking it, knowing who it was.
Remelle.
Even after Aelin had so spectacularly demeaned her at the gala, the woman wouldn’t leave him alone. And he’d tried blocking her, but then she started contacting him through email, which his was publicly available for anyone in the agency, and he couldn't exactly block that since it was for work, so he’d unblocked her number so his inbox wouldn’t get spammed and make him miss an actually important email.
Rowan shut off his phone through his pocket, and found Aelin’s eyes on him when he looked back up, questioning what was wrong. He just waved her off, and she let it go. This was his annoying burden to bear, he wouldn’t try to stack his own emotional baggage on top of her already way too heavy load. If anything, he should be taking weight from her.
“Not in this friend group,” Aedion added, and Rowan couldn’t help but feel like their insistence against this happening meant that it was so ridiculous it would fall apart regardless. Fragile things were way too easily broken.
And he had the feeling like this tenuous friendship wouldn’t quite survive a fall.
------
Aelin didn’t know if she should be embarrassed or not by the revelation she’d placed on Rowan’s shoulders. But she couldn’t help but not be.
She’d never shared it with anyone else, still didn’t know whether she should or not, definitely didn’t know what to do about it, but he’d taken all of that chaos with ease, and comforted her while she fell apart.
She didn’t deserve it.
Maeve emphasized it when she walked into her office that morning, receiving a stern warning of You aren’t communicating your gratitude enough, to the Rifthold Fashion folks apparently. Aelin didn’t know what she was supposed to do about that.
She could lie and pretend to gush her heart out about being so “grateful” for the opportunity and run the risk of getting sick, or just stay silent. There really wasn’t much of a choice.
It was unfortunate too, because she knew most of the people at Rifthold Fashion couldn’t be like the boss was, and didn’t even know how toxic of an environment he created, but with him still there, all she could do was avoid the entire organization as much as possible.
But it was three days until she had to be heart in the heart of it.
She spun around in her chair, hooking her heel onto the desk in front of her to stop herself from spinning too far.
Her makeup was done sparsely, her hair smoothed back in a bun, ready to take a new headshot. She had to get a new one done every few years, especially at this stage of her life, as she did look quite a bit different than she did at eighteen.
But Rowan was currently in a shoot with someone else, so she had to wait her turn.
It was fine, she was scrolling through her social media on her phone, content to take a break from her constant go go go. Though she did need to workout when she got back home, her favorite pilates guru on youtube had a new video that was calling her name.
Aelin swung her foot like a pendulum, pulling herself back and forth slightly along the desk.
The walls were so shiny white they were basically mirrors, so she had a warning when she saw Remelle come up behind her.
“Remelle, darling,” Aelin said mockingly, turning the chair around to look at her. “What can I do for you?” She hadn’t seen the girl since the gala, nor did she really want to.
Remelle popped a hip, leaning into it slightly. “I just wanted to let you know that any day now, he’s going to get tired of you,” she said, and Aelin cocked a golden brow. “Just like the world is going to get tired of you, and realize there’s something better out there than a skanky bitch who slept her way to the top.”
Her blood ran cold.
“Report me to Maeve all you want,” Remelle continued, even though Aelin was sure her face was stoney, “at least I can fit in size zero jeans.”
And then she was walking away. Sauntering more like it, like she’d won something. Gods she was horrible, and Aelin barely even knew her, had only spoken to her twice.
But - she couldn’t deny that the girl had landed a few blows. The most pressing was the sleeping her way to the top rumor. Was that what people thought? Or was that just a random attack, hoping to hit the mark somewhere?
But the blow that ached to her core was the second remark. The one about her body. It shouldn’t bother her that much, but the worry was so ingrained in her that it did.
“Aelin?” Rowan’s voice called, the door to his little studio open, and she fixed her expression immediately, smiling at him as she headed in. “Everything okay?”
“Yep,” she said, but it was hollow. Just like her.
-------
Rowan shouldn’t be so happy to see Aelin back in his apartment, but the sight of her cozying up on the couch made his heart warm in a way that was disconcertingly unfamiliar.
She’d bounded in the front door as soon as he’d opened it, and crashed onto the couch, only sitting up when he’d come and joined her, his laptop in hand.
He’d spent all day finishing up the edits for the pictures, and had picked out the ones he thought melded in the most organic way. He was excited to show her. So he’d invited her over for the evening. He had dinner cooking in the oven, music on, his laptop up and ready to go… almost like a date night. The thought of that made his cheeks flush incomprehensibly. It was work, purely work.
In fact, it was probably what he was proudest of in his entire career. With the slight filters he’d put on the photographs, and the way he arranged them, it was like a thousand moments captured in one single frame. He’d have to thank Elide for the amazing idea.
“Are these the pictures?” Aelin asked, and he looked over at her, furrowing his brows when he saw she was looking away.
“Yes,” he said, “I think the portfolio is done, they’re ready to submit but I wanted to show you first.”
“It’s okay,” she said, shaking her head. “I trust you. I don’t need to see them.”
She stood up off the couch, meandering over to the record player. He watched her retreat, catching her back profile as she stared at the vinyl spinning around, an old jazz favorite of his. Something completely obscure that he’d never thought they’d have in common, but apparently they did.
“What do you mean?” Rowan dared to question, turning slightly on the couch. He heard her sigh crackle from all the way across the room.
“I don’t look at any of the pictures I take,” she said, before turning quickly to face him, an entirely fake smile on her pink painted lips. “Why bother, you know?” And then she was bounding away again, not giving him time to address that surprising statement.
“Do you have that t-shirt still?” She asked, heading into his room. “I’m going to steal it from you.”
He stared after her, dumbfounded, as she disappeared into his room, emerging a few minutes later wearing nothing but his t-shirt, like she’d said. Of course, it completely covered her, but still.
“What are you cooking?” She suddenly asked, changing direction and heading into the kitchen. Rowan could barely keep up with her manic energy. Something was clearly wrong.
She hadn’t been okay earlier either, despite her attempts to dissuade him. She’d smiled in her headshot like she was supposed to, but it hadn’t shined through her eyes.
“Aelin…” he said, trailing off, and she finally paused, glancing over at him, her face unreadable.
“Would it make you happy if I looked at them?” She asked, and he blinked.
“Would it make you happy?” He countered, and she pursed her lips and didn’t answer. But without another word, she slowly made her way back to the couch, sighing shakily and painting a small smile on her face.
“Let me see what kinda magic you made,” she teased, and he carefully pulled the pictures back up, while still watching her out of the corner of his eyes.
He slowly scrolled through the selection of them he’d made, gaze darting back between the screen and her reaction.
He’d put a specific filter on them, blurring them a bit to make them all look older, almost retro. Like they hadn’t been taken with an expensive ass camera, and instead with an old canon polaroid.
There were some of them out at the park, her smiling face glowing in the sunlight, some of them wandering through downtown, her hair flicked back over her shoulder as she laughed at him. There was one of his favorites, when they were in the cafe. She was holding a cup of coffee and looking out the window, her profile highlighted by the soft amber lighting.
Then of them back in his apartment, sitting across from him as they played monopoly, holding the cash in front of her face like a fan.
Her entire essence of being was radiating from each and every picture, and it was magnetizing. Not because of him, not because of his camera, but because of her.
But her brows were furrowed, her face scrunched in what looked like anxious confusion as she looked at them. His stomach dropped.
“Who is that?” She said, her voice so quiet he could barely hear it.
“What?” He asked, concern now filling his veins. Something wasn’t right.
Aelin just shook her head, pushing herself to a stand and retreating into the kitchen. “Your food is almost done,” she said, and Rowan set his laptop down carefully, following her over there.
Sure enough, the oven timer went off just as he got into the kitchen, and he grabbed the oven mit, taking out the pan of chicken and setting it on the stovetop.
“Smells good,” he said, looking over at her, but she just smiled weakly and went to sit down at the countertop. He took that as an offer to sit and eat, and he grabbed two plates, setting pieces of chicken on each and cutting them both, passing one to her.
Rowan grabbed a fork for her too, coming to sit in the seat next to her.
“Dig in,” he said, as she took the fork from him, and he speared a piece himself, nodding at the flavor. It turned out pretty good, not too dry, with the right amount of seasoning for the flavor palette he was going for.
In a few minutes he was already halfway through the plate, but when he glanced over, Aelin hadn’t eaten a single bite. She was just pushing pieces around with the fork, her mouth pinched.
“Come on,” he said, nudging her shoulder with his own. “Just try it.”
She glanced at him a little derisively, but picked up one tiny piece with her fork, considering for a moment before carefully putting it in her mouth. Rowan watched her expression as she chewed, satisfaction racing through him as her expression morphed into one of surprised delight.
“It’s good,” she nodded, grabbing another piece.
“Yeah?” He asked, and she nodded again, mouth full of chicken. He could only chuckle as she dug her way through the rest of the chicken, following suit on his own plate.
He watched her carefully as she ate, waiting until she was close to finishing before asking -
“Why don’t you look at any pictures of yourself?”
She paused, before swallowing the last piece of chicken and setting her fork down with a small clink.
“It doesn’t-” she sighed, looking up at nothing as she clearly fought with her words. “It just doesn’t - help.”
Rowan figured the words made sense to her, even if they didn’t to him, and he was waiting for her to say more, but her eyes dropped to her plate and her mouth stayed shut. A long moment passed, a million different expressions fluttering along her face, and the only noise was the faint jazz in the corner.
“If you’ll excuse me,” she said quietly, standing up from the barstool quickly and heading toward the bathroom. She looked both in a rush, and looked like a ghost who’d walked this path a thousand times over a thousand centuries, and Rowan’s gaze followed her, frowning as the bathroom door closed with a quiet click.
He watched the closed door for a second before turning back to his chicken, chewing on another piece. But it turned to ash in his mouth, anxiety swirling in his gut the longer Aelin stayed in there.
He glanced back again, but nothing had changed.
A few minutes later, Rowan couldn’t fight the bad feeling inside of him anymore, and he stood up, heading toward the bathroom with the sound of his blood rushing through his ears. His heartbeat sped up, and with each step he debated if he wanted to keep going or if he wanted to retreat.
But something was telling him that something was wrong.
“Aelin?” He asked, rapping on the door with his knuckles. “Are you okay?”
No sound came through, and he waited one more minute, before slowly pushing on the handle, giving her time to protest before opening the door. But he stopped hesitating when he found her on her knees, sticking two fingers down her throat.
“Aelin!” He called out, kneeling down and reaching out for her. But it was too late as she retched into the toilet in front of her. The best he could do was hold her loose hair back, sighing heavily as she purged the chicken she’d just eaten.
All the pieces were coming together.
Why he never saw her eat; why if she did eat, she disappeared into the bathroom minutes later; why she exercised like her life depended on it; why she was so skinny. The fashion world was toxic, he knew that, but she’d always seemed so untouchable. So - so above it all.
Turns out, she was deep underwater, with no way to get to the surface.
Eventually she heaved for air, leaning over to rest her head against the wall. She looked back at him, her eyes watery as she wiped her mouth.
“I can’t do it, Rowan,” she breathed, shaking her head weakly. “I can’t.”
And his heart broke.
“Aelin,” he sighed, cupping her soft cheek with his hand. She just looked at him, as if afraid of what he’d say, but ready to defend her actions should he try to fight, so all he did was lean over and flush the toilet, before standing up and holding out a hand.
She eyed it warily, before grabbing it, letting him help her to a stand.
She stood there waiting as he grabbed a hand towel, turning on the faucet and getting the corner of it wet before turning to her. Slowly and carefully, he reached for her, holding her cheek with one hand as he used the other to dab at her mouth with the towel, cleaning up the last bit of throw up she’d missed.
Her eyes were on him, full of unreadable emotion as he set the towel back down. He reached under the counter for the bottle of mouthwash, setting it out for her to see.
“In case you want to get rid of the taste,” he teased gently, earning a breathy chuckle. He deemed that a success, and stepped aside as she stepped toward the sink, getting some mouthwash in the cup and gargling it before spitting it into the ceramic, washing it down with water from the faucet.
“Come on,” he said, nodding back toward the living room. “I’ll get you some water.”
Aelin nodded, following him as he left the bathroom. He let her curl up on the couch as he went into the kitchen, getting her a cup of water before heading back out to join her. She sipped on the water as he sat down next to her.
“Does anyone else know?” Rowan asked, and she shook her head.
“Maeve might,” she amended, before laughing sardonically, “though she encourages it. I was short of my weight loss goal for the month and got chewed out for it.”
Horror struck him.
“How much do you weigh?” He asked, having to know even if he didn’t want to. She tucked her face on her knees.
“110 pounds?” She said, almost like it was a question. His gut sank. “What?” She said, defensively. “It’s a perfectly normal weight.”
“If you’re about half a foot shorter than you are,” he insisted, massaging his temple with a hand. “When did it start?” He asked, and she laughed once, humorlessly again.
“Five years ago,” she said, “after my body stopped being mine alone. After it was ruined.”
Arobynn. In her mind, he’d ruined her. So why not ruin herself even more?
“And that’s why you won’t look at yourself?” He asked, and she shrugged.
“It sparks a lot of… behaviors I know aren’t good,” she admitted. “If I think I look bad in a picture I’ll spend another hour running on the treadmill, or I won’t eat for the rest of the day.” She sighed, burying her head in her knees. “I know it’s not healthy, but you have to understand, Rowan. The pressure. I screw up once, I don’t take care of my body for one day, and I end up losing everything that I’ve worked for for years.” Silence, before - “But everyone sees right through me anyway. And soon you will too.”
“This isn’t taking care of yourself,” he said, shaking his head. But she wasn’t looking at him. “Aelin.” She didn’t look at him. “Aelin.”
She finally looked over, her eyes nervous.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, putting enough insistence behind his voice to convince her. She blinked, a singular tear slipping down her raw cheeks. “I want you to know that. But most of all, I want you to be happy with who you are.”
“I don’t know how,” she said, her throat tight with unshed tears. “I look in the mirror and I hate what looks back.”
Rowan leaned in, resting his forehead against hers. He reached out and placed his hand on her cheek, and she closed her eyes.
They stayed there for a moment, sharing breaths and just sitting in the silence. He didn’t know how to help her, he didn’t know how to make her love herself. But maybe - just maybe - he could show her who she was through his eyes.
“Let me show you how stunning you are,” he breathed, his heart pounding as he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. A soft sigh escaped her and he took the encouragement, trailing down to kiss the underside of her jaw.
“Rowan,” she breathed, but remained still, inviting him to continue, yet self conscious at the same time. That wouldn’t do.
His hand slid from her cheek down to her arm, loosely guiding her to lay back against the couch. Slowly, he leaned down, pressing another kiss to her neck, relishing in the breathy gasp she let out. But he didn’t stay there for long, traveling down her throat and nipping at her collarbone. And then he shifted even farther, a hand settling on her waist, lifting up her shirt slightly to kiss her hip bone.
Her shirt had ridden up, revealing the smooth skin of her stomach, but instead of following the path it’d created, he moved to kneel off the couch. And then he reached for his camera, lying abandoned on the coffee table, holding it so Aelin could clearly see. Her head was turned to him, her golden hair spilling off the edge of the couch.
Kneeling in front of her, he lifted up the camera, seeing her face through the lens as he snapped a picture. The air between them was charged, his heart beating nearly out of his chest as he turned to catch a new angle, the edge of the t-shirt she was wearing, and the soft skin it revealed.
Then it was the lace edge of her underwear, and the curve of her hip to her thigh, then the smooth skin of her leg, propped up on the couch.
Slowly, keeping his eyes on her, he moved back over, and with one hand he slid her shirt up farther and caught a picture of just the shadow of her breasts revealed. She nodded, her heart visibly racing, and he pushed the shirt up farther, catching a picture of her bare chest.
“Gods, you’re so beautiful,” he whispered, helping her take off the shirt completely. She sniffed, and he looked up to meet her gaze, seeing her soulful blue eyes glistening with emotion. He couldn’t resist taking another picture, lacing his free hand with one of hers to press above her head on the couch.
“Kiss me,” she murmured, and how could he deny her?
He set aside the camera, before leaning down over her, finally capturing her lips in a heated, slow kiss. She tasted like heaven, and everything sweet he’d ever had the pleasure of enjoying, though he knew nothing could ever live up to the pleasure of this.
The kiss deepened, and Aelin hooked one of her legs over his back, pulling him in closer. He slid his free hand up her stomach, grabbing onto and massaging one of her breasts, earning a gaspy moan into his mouth.
He brushed his thumb over the peak, and her breath hitched again. He took the opportunity to nudge at one of her lips with his tongue, which she immediately accepted, opening her mouth for him to enter.
Her hand was squeezing his tightly, her heel digging into his lower back, and he broke their kiss only momentarily to take his shirt off, wanting to feel her bare skin against his. And when he leaned back down, he returned to her neck, pressing alternating slow and fast kisses, sucking and biting and probably leaving marks, but she didn’t seem to care if the way she was moaning was any indication.
Taking the hand from her breast, he dragged it down her stomach, toying with the edge of her underwear, teasing the sensitive skin there.
“Can I?” He asked, his voice gravelly, and she nodded, arching into his hand. Rowan slowly hooked his fingers under the hem, pulling her underwear down her legs.
He let go of her hand, and moved his to slide up her legs slowly, parting her thighs. He slid his left hand up farther, using his thumb to part her folds. After taking a breath, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her clit. Her intake of breath stoked the fire in him, and after a moment he leaned down farther, licking a line up her folds.
“Oh gods,” she moaned, and that was the breaking point. He devoured her like he was parched and she was the sweetest oasis in a barren desert, using his fingers to coax even more delicious sounds from her.
It didn’t take long before she hit that peak, her body squeezing him tightly as she came.
She was panting as she came down, and with her hands she pulled him up to her, pulling him down to a desperate kiss. Eventually they broke, both of them breathing heavily.
“Fuck me, please,” she pleaded, and he groaned, reaching to hurriedly take off his pants. When was naked, he reached over to the drawer in his coffee table, retrieving a condom and sliding it on quickly.
“Fuck people on your couch often?” Aelin teased breathlessly, and he chuckled, nipping at her ear.
“Blame Fenrys for this. He thought I needed an emergency stash,” he explained, rolling his hips against hers and drawing out another gasp.
“Stop teasing,” she ordered him, and he chuckled, even as he lined up and nudged at her entrance. Her face screwed tightly as he pushed in slightly, and he waited until she nodded to push in all the way.
And then he started moving. And his world ended.
He wasn’t completely inexperienced, but he’d certainly never had anyone that felt like her. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and he grabbed her hand, pressing it above her head like it’d been before.
His other hand tangled in the hair sprawled over the couch cushions, his eyes glued to her face as her brows furrowed deliciously, her eyes screwed tightly closed and her mouth open in a clear sign of pleasure.
“Oh gods,” she moaned, her free hand clutching his shoulder tightly.
It didn’t take long for him to near his climax, but Aelin was approaching hers to so he held his off, reaching for his camera. And right as she came he snapped a picture of her face, release hitting him right after.
Both of them were covered in sweat as they came down, and Rowan set the camera back down to the side, before pulling out of her carefully. She pressed a few fluttering kisses to his chin and he caught her lips for one soft kiss before pulling back, traveling to the bathroom quickly to get rid of the condom.
He came back out to the living room, to find Aelin still sprawled out on the couch. He leaned over her and kissed her deeply. They both smiled at each other when he broke it.
“Come on,” he said, sliding on his boxers, and helping her back into his t-shirt. “Let me get you some food.”
He watched her reaction carefully, but she just smiled shyly. “Can you make me some green beans?”
Rowan blinked, processing the words before breaking out into a grin. “Yeah,” he laughed, grabbing her hand and pressing a kiss to it. “I can.”
She was so… so beautiful. And not just her looks, everything about her. Every time he saw her, he felt like he was adrift in the ocean, and she was the life raft he needed to survive.
He hadn’t seen this coming, but he’d be damned to let it go now.
———
Finally, it was the day of the shoot. Aelin didn’t know which emotions were going to win out: nausea, because it was finally happening, or relief, because the sooner it happened the sooner she’d be done.
The building loomed before her, and she breathed shakily, clutching Rowan’s hand tightly.
They’d hardly separated in the few days since they’d been together that first time, even when Aelin had shoots and Rowan had work to do, they’d come back to his apartment as soon as possible. They never went to hers; his was just homier.
They hadn’t officially stated what they were to each other, and they certainly hadn’t told anyone else, but Aelin was immensely happy that he was there with her as she pushed open those doors that were seared into her mind.
Neither of them spoke as they walked across the lobby, entering the elevator to take it up to the fortieth floor. It was only when the elevator dinged, and the doors started to slide open, that Rowan looked at her and said -
“Don’t forget, I’m here with you,” he said, lifting their joint hands to kiss the back of hers. She just smiled tightly at him before stepping forward, and into hell.
Aelin breathed in shakily as she walked into the Rifthold Fashion headquarters, her heels clicking on the marble floor. She didn’t even bother speaking to the receptionist and asking where to go, having memorized the layout the last time it was here.
It essentially looked like the exact stereotypical image of a fashion magazine’s office, with caffeine crazed assistants bustling around carrying stacks of clothing, and everyone looking like they’re scared of getting yelled at every second of every day. It was fashionable, but everything was on the brink of implosion.
Beautiful chaos.
Her heart was racing, but she kept her chin up as she walked toward the photography studio, where she would be painted and dressed up like a little doll before being photographed for the cover of next month’s edition.
She wasn’t bitter, it was her job and she loved her job, but it was just a little difficult to be grateful about this opportunity after what happened last time.
“Ms. Galathynius,” a voice greeted, and her spine stiffened, every nerve in her body going silent. “How nice of you to join us today.”
And Arobynn Hamel slid into her gaze, smiling at her crookedly. Everything in her was telling her to run, but she steeled herself, lifting her chin and leveling a cold gaze at him.
“Mr. Hamel,” she acknowledged, hating the way her voice quivered slightly. He seemed to catch it, amusement sparking in his eyes. But he didn’t say anything, turning his attention to Rowan, and to their interlocked hands.
“And who is this?” He asked, cocking an auburn brow.
“Rowan Whitethorn,” Rowan answered, not giving any more information. Arobynn stuck out a hand to shake, but Rowan didn’t respond, keeping his free hand in his pocket instead. Aelin had to fight the urge to chuckle.
“If you’ll excuse us,” she said, pulling Rowan to start walking around the man. “I’m needed in the hair and makeup room.”
Once he was out of sight, Aelin let loose a shuddering breath, squeezing her eyes shut.
“Are you okay?” Rowan asked quietly, and she nodded tightly, before looking up at him.
“He’s not involved in the details and actual process of the shoot,” she explained, “so if I’m lucky, I won’t have to see him again.” She smiled tightly, ignoring the concerned look in his green eyes. “Let’s go.”
Aelin headed back further into the office space, going toward where the shoot was to be set up. She hadn’t been lying, she was needed in the hair and makeup room. That was the first stop. She knew this whole process like the back of her hand, sure the details varied from place to place, but overall, she knew what was expected of her, and she knew how to do it efficiently.
Now, she just did it with Rowan by her side.
------
The shoot went smoothly for the most part. Arobynn hadn’t made another appearance, and Aelin was able to do what she did best: model. The theme for the cover was Old Glamour, so she’d been dressed in a gown of dripping diamonds, her hair curled up in a low bun with dramatic eyeliner and dark red lipstick.
It was one of her favorite looks she’d ever been in, and the irony was not lost on her.
“Everytime I think you can’t possibly get any more beautiful, you prove me wrong,” Rowan said as she exited the shoot room, an adorable starstruck look on his face. Aelin laughed, letting him grab her hand and kiss it dramatically.
“What can I say,” she teased, “I’m just full of surprises.” He chuckled, sliding his arm around her waist. She turned to press a kiss to his cheek, laughing at the red stain it left. Rowan didn’t even try to wipe it away.
“Come on,” he said, “let’s go get ready to go.”
The makeup artists had offered to help her strip the entire look too, but she’d turned them down, not needing their help. It was nice of them, but she didn’t need to take up more of their time. She’d be just fine doing it herself.
They headed back toward the dressing room, luckily a different one than the one she’d been in five years ago. It was just a room, but she really didn’t need the attached memories haunting her. She’d been lucky so far, she was hoping it would last.
“Can you grab me my bag?” Aelin asked Rowan as she sat down in the chair in front of the mirror, digging out her makeup remover wipes when he did. She took off the fake eyelashes first, before tackling the red lipstick, which proved to be a struggle.
The dress, while extravagant, was surprisingly comfortable, so she hadn’t bothered to take that off yet.
“Thank you for coming with me,” she said to Rowan, looking over at him. It still didn’t feel real, their whole - relationship. If that was even what it was. “I really do appreciate it. I feel a lot calmer, then I would’ve if I’d come by myself.”
“Hey,” he said, from the chair next to hers. “You trusted me with what happened. It’s the least I can do to try and make you feel more comfortable with it.” His expression was sincere, and she paused in her makeup removing to lean her head against his shoulder.
And then his phone rang.
She lifted her head up as he reached for the device, his face paling at the number.
“It’s the Rifthold Institute,” he said, and she smiled excitedly. He’d submitted the portfolio two days ago, though she’d had to help him push the button because he couldn’t do it by himself. They really were stunning photos, even if she still wasn’t happy with how she looked. But that was eternal, that didn’t have anything to do with him.
“Are you going to answer it?” She asked, and he looked down at it again.
“My phone only has one bar in here,” he explained, “I won’t be able to hear them very well.”
“Go outside then,” she shooed him, “I’ll be fine.” He hesitated, but she insisted again and he sighed, following suit.
The door clicked shut behind him, right as he answered the call, and Aelin smiled contently as she turned back to the mirror, returning to her process of removing her makeup. He would get the job, she was sure of it. And yes, she’d miss seeing him around the office, but she wanted him to be happy, and he was not happy there.
She’d just removed her eyeliner, using up three wipes for that alone, when the door opened again. But she froze as she looked in the mirror and saw not a flash of silvery hair, but of red.
“Aelin, Aelin, Aelin,” he said, a sick smile on his face. “That was such a cold greeting earlier. What on earth did I do to deserve that?”
She set the wipe down, keeping her face firm. “Do I really need to answer that question?” Gods. Her hands were trying to shake, but she clenched them into fists. If he tried anything, she wouldn’t be complacent this time. She’d fight back.
Where was Rowan?
“Your boy toy isn’t coming back anytime soon,” Arobynn added, walking closer to her. She tensed. “He’s deep in conversation, far away from this room. Gives us time to talk.”
“I’m not interested in talking with you,” she said, pushing herself to a stand and moving toward the door. But he stepped in front of her, blocking her path. Her heart thumped painfully in her chest. She needed to get out of here, now.
“Well too bad,” he said, a little more aggressively. “Because you’re going to.” He grabbed her arm, and panic raced through her veins. With his other hand he gripped her jaw, holding her face close to his. “It was fun last time, wasn’t it?” He asked with a contemptuous smile. “We can do it again.”
“Let. Me. Go.” She ordered, her voice shaking, gathering all the nerve left in her to make herself sound strong. She was strong. She wouldn’t let this happen again.
But he didn’t listen, instead he leaned in and forced his lips onto hers, even as she struggled to get away. Eventually she was able to get her legs to work and she kneed him straight in the groin, shoving him back when he bent over in pain.
“Get the fuck away from me,” she cursed, panting. Her hair had come loose from her bun, a strand hanging in front of her eyes.
Just then, the door opened again, and Rowan entered, his face angry as death.
“I think you better leave before I do something I won’t regret,” Rowan spit, his eyes dark. Arobynn stood up and straightened his jacket, his face tight with his own anger. But he didn’t dare say anything, just throwing her a contemptuous look and heading out of the dressing room. It was his company, he could try to pin the blame on Rowan, or shout that there was some disturbance, or try to get her in trouble, but luckily, he just left.
Aelin didn’t breathe until the door shut behind him, sagging against the wall.
“Are you okay?” Rowan asked quietly, coming up to her side quickly. She sniffed and straightened, nodding as she rubbed at her face.
“Yes, I think so.” But she sighed heavily, reaching for the makeup wipe again. “He just had such confidence. That he could walk in here and do this with the door not even locked. It makes me wonder how many other girls have gone through the same thing.” Her heart broke at the thought. It’d happened so quickly, that time and this time. How many other people were forced to experience their life changing completely in a few minutes?
She wiped at her lips again, even if the lipstick was all removed. And she took out the pins in her hair, brushing it through before clipping it up. It was only then she reached for her change of clothes. Rowan looked like he was about to ask if she’d like him to leave, but she just shook her head.
“Are you going to report him?” Rowan asked, after she changed into her jeans and t-shirt. Aelin huffed a breath, rubbing at her forehead. It wasn’t nearly as bad as last time, but maybe she shouldn’t be so blasé about being the victim of assault yet again. Even if it was only attempted.
“I don’t know, Rowan,” she said honestly, but she didn’t look at him, choosing to hang up the dress instead. “He clearly doesn’t expect me to. Probably because I haven’t reported the first time in the five years since it happened.” She shook her head. “No one would believe me anyway.”
“I would,” he said, “I would vouch for you.”
She laughed humorlessly. “And you’d be claimed as biased like that.” She snapped for emphasis. He didn’t answer, and she shook her head again, packing everything up in her bag before picking it up. “Let’s just get the hell out of here.”
He nodded, and that was that.
——-
They ended up in the same cafe they’d taken pictures in, and Rowan watched Aelin carefully as she sipped on her coffee, trying really fucking hard to pretend she wasn’t affected.
She was looking out the window, drinking from her disgustingly sugary hazelnut monstrosity, but the hand on the table was shaking slightly and he reached out to hold it gently. She smiled at him thinly.
He’d tried to buy her a pastry to go along with the coffee, but she’d turned it down. She should eat it, he didn’t think she’d really eaten anything substantial that day, but he couldn’t force her to. She needed to see a professional for tackling such a deep-seated issue as this one, as much as he wanted to help he really couldn’t.
He would just have to trust that she would try to help herself.
“Oh,” she said, blinking, “how was the phone call? Did you get the job?”
“It was just to let me know it’s been narrowed down to two,” Rowan answered, trying not to show the nerves inside of him. “And to ask me about some formalities and contract details and stuff.” Aelin nodded her head in contemplation.
“So you’re getting it,” she said, with total faith, and his heart warmed.
“We’ll see,” he answered, shrugging. “I’ll know by the end of the week.” The other candidate was older, with more experience, but the man he’d talked to at the Institute had said they were also considering looking for some new blood, someone young to bring a new perspective into the place.
He was hoping that would mean him. But he would just have to wait and see.
Just then his phone buzzed, and he cursed under his breath, pulling it out and seeing that annoyingly familiar number on the screen. He turned his notifications off and shoved his phone back in his pocket, but saw Aelin watching him curiously. He just waved her off.
“So…” Aelin said, a few minutes later. She smiled slyly. “Am I your girlfriend now?”
Rowan chuckled, trying to act casual even though the question sent his heart soaring. “Do you want to be?”
Aelin shrugged, acting blase. “I’m not sure. Let me get back to you in a day or two.” But she was grinning, and he rolled his eyes.
“Smart ass,” he said, and she laughed.
“You love it,” she accused, and he smiled gently.
“Yeah. I really do.”
------
A few days later, and they still hadn’t announced their relationship to the rest of the group. But Aelin was holding off, just because she wasn’t really sure how to explain how it happened. Oh, I came over to let him take pictures of me, and ended up spilling my trauma to him, to which he reacted surprisingly really well. And even went with me to confront my assaulter, and threatened to beat him up when he tried to assault me again. And the rest is history.
No, that wouldn’t go well at all.
And she knew the first person she would want to tell was Aedion. They’d barely talked in the last few weeks, as she was so wrapped up in everything else going on, and the guilt was so potent she could nearly taste it. But soon. They’d catch up soon.
She gathered her keys and slid her sunglasses as she headed out of her apartment, making sure to lock the door behind her. Then she was off, heading down the elevator and exiting the building out onto the street.
It was a Tuesday, late morning, so it wasn’t too busy. But she still had to fight through pedestrians as she made her way to the metro station. She normally hated taking the subway, but she wasn’t dolled up enough to make people recognize her, so she could float under the radar. And it was faster than a taxi in constant traffic like this.
She paid the toll and walked into the station, waiting for the next train like everyone else. She was going to get a massage at her favorite massage parlor, but it was a few miles away and she didn’t feel like walking that whole distance.
When the right train arrived, she stepped onto it like everyone else, enjoying getting to pretend to be normal for a little bit. She didn’t sit down, instead grabbing one of the handles from the ceiling, and pulled out her phone, scrolling through her notifications as the doors closed and the train started to move.
Her stomach dropped.
Request for Signature the subject line read, from an email she recognized too well.
She felt nauseous as she opened it, scrolling down to the attached file. There was no message anyway, no introduction to whatever this was. And pretty soon, she found out.
Non-Disclosure Agreement was at the top, and her heart thumped in her chest as she skimmed through the terms.
…not allowed to discuss or attempt to publicize any information regarding the untoward actions of Mr. Hamel on the dates of…
…will receive three million dollars as a result of returning this document with a completed signature…
…infringement of this document will result in a penalty of two times the prior amount listed…
And it ended with:
Please return signed within three business days.
Aelin was going to be sick. This was what he was trying to do? Tempt her into signing a document that she couldn’t ever reasonably break? Six million dollars would be the penalty; she was a well paid model, but that was a hefty amount to owe all at once.
And yet - if she signed it, it would be over.
“Fuck,” she cursed, rubbing her forehead. Why was everything in her life so screwy? Was it her? Or was it the gods trying to fuck with her?
The metro stopped at the next station, and she glanced up at the signs, quickly identifying where she was. And though she had four more stops to go before she was supposed to get off, she let go of the handle and walked to the doors.
Change of plans.
------
Rowan was going to throw his phone off a cliff. Or if not a cliff, he was going to find a bridge somewhere and throw it into the river below. Just enough to make sure that no one would ever be able to contact him on it again.
Or mainly - one person.
Remelle LaFleur was quickly becoming the utter bane of his existence, and he had no real idea of how to get her out of it. He opened their text thread, seeing the long list of her texts, with only a few dotting his side.
> come on, let’s just get dinner
> I promise I’ll make it worth your while
< Remelle, I have a girlfriend now
> that whore Aelin Galathynius?
> you can do so much better than her
To that, he hadn’t replied, completely at a loss for words of what to even say to that. No, he couldn’t do better than her. But this was just getting completely out of hand.
He collapsed back on his couch, his head in his hands as he tried to sort out what the hell to do about this. She wasn’t going to leave him alone if he replied, or if he didn’t reply either. Maybe he needed to try and reason with her, to convince her that this was an utter dead end.
But would she listen over text? From what he could tell, she would just ignore the message and keep harassing him.
Should he tell Aelin what was going on? Maybe she could help. She was starting to notice anyway; she’d given him odd looks whenever Remelle texted him, and he’d had to pull out and silence his phone. And yet - did he want to put this on her plate? She already had so much going on. This wouldn’t do anything but add more stress.
He contemplated it as he opened his laptop, pulling up some headshots he was meant to be editing. He’d taken the day as a work from home day; Maeve didn’t really care as long as he came in for the shoots he needed to do, and got his edits done on time.
Hopefully, he would be done with this pretty soon. He was supposed to find out about the job within three days. And hopefully that phone call would be the end of this mindless work.
Maybe he could use that as a way to convince Remelle too.
But it would be better in person. That way he could make sure the message was actually getting to her. Not going straight into her trash.
< I’ll meet with you in person one time
< We need to talk
This needed to stop.
He shut off his phone then, turning back to his laptop, but a rapid knocking on the door grabbed his attention. Rowan furrowed his brows, hurrying to go over there and open it. Aelin was on the other side, and at first he was concerned that something was wrong, but she wasn’t crying, she was mad.
“Look at what this fucker is trying to do,” she spit, shoving her phone at him as she stepped inside. Rowan idly shut the door behind her as his eyes focused on the screen, and on the words Non-Disclosure Agreement.
Well shit.
“He’s trying to bribe me into shutting up,” she huffed, walking over and sitting down on the couch. “And I thought he couldn’t get any worse.” She shook her head and he came over there. “Three million dollars. That’s what he thinks I’m worth.”
Rowan sat in silence for a moment, figuring out how to best approach the subject.
“What are you thinking of doing?” He asked, carefully, and she glanced at him.
“I don’t know,” she sighed. “I don’t want to take the deal, but if I do, then this is over. I can put it behind me, and he won’t bother me again.”
“But-” he said, knowing her too well.
“Then I’m stuck,” she added, chewing on her lip. “If I change my mind and ever want to speak out, I can’t.” She made a miserable noise and flopped over, her head in his lap. Rowan automatically started caressing her hair, combing through it gently.
“How much time do you have to decide?” He asked quietly, and she blinked up at him, her blue eyes full of emotion.
“Three days.”
“Same time for the job,” he said, huffing a humorless laugh. Rowan lifted up her phone again, reading through the contract with more detail. “Here,” he said after a moment, “text Elide on my phone. She should take a look at this.”
“Good idea,” Aelin said, reaching over to grab his phone off of the coffee table.
Rowan read over the exact terms of the agreement again, frowning when he saw just what she wouldn’t be allowed to talk about, and what she would be forced to pay if she did speak about it. Something about this was just wrong, he didn’t like the idea of her being trapped into it.
“Aelin, I-”
“What is this,” Aelin interrupted, her eyes glued to his phone. His heart stopped at her flat tone. Especially as she sat up, distancing herself from him. “Why did she say this? Why are you texting her?”
“Wha-”
“Perfect. You can come over to my place at eight,” she continued, “I’ll make you forget about that slut.” His face drained of all color as she realized what she was seeing. What she was reading.
“It’s not like that,” he tried to say, but he realized how that sounded. She finally looked up at him, her face filled with such pain his heart broke. “Aelin-”
She just shook her head, standing up quickly. “Don’t,” she said, her voice shuddering. “Don’t even bother.” she was still shaking her head, looking everywhere but at him. “I shouldn’t be surprised, doesn’t everyone end up leaving me anyway?” Her voice was getting tight with what sounded like unshed tears. “But I thought you would be the one to stay.”
“Aelin, I promise you-” he was getting desperate now. But that set her off.
“No,” she interrupted, spinning around to face him, nearly throwing his phone across the room. “I don’t want to hear it,” she spit, her face full of anger. “You… you fucker.” She gripped at her hair.
“Aelin,” he said, standing up. “I swear it’s not like that, just let me exp-”
“I don’t want to hear your excuses,” she said, interrupting him again, “I trusted you, with everything.” Her voice broke. “And this is what you give me in return?” A tear slipped down her face, and she quickly wiped it away. But he saw.
“I can’t,” she whispered, “I just can’t.” She wiped at her face again, grabbing her phone from the couch and heading toward the door. Rowan couldn’t do anything but watch as she opened it and turned back to face him. “I hope you get the job, I really do.” She smiled bitterly. “Because then I’ll never have to see your face again.”
And then she was gone.
-----
The dark cloud that had lifted slightly had descended again with a fury, and Aelin had trouble getting out of bed for the first time in years. Most of the time, she was able to motivate herself with work, and the knowledge of the self-hate that would hit her if she let herself slip for even a moment. But that morning, she wanted to ignore her alarm and just sink into the sheets so deeply she became a part of them, never having to see the daylight again.
She didn’t want to see the sun, not anymore.
She’d cried herself to sleep the night before, and once she did finally manage to drag herself out of bed and into the bathroom, it was swollen eyes and splotchy cheeks that she met in the mirror.
“Gods,” she whispered under her breath, hanging her head low as she leaned against the counter. “Get yourself together.” She hit the marble once with her hand before huffing and standing up straight, staring at herself in the eyes.
She’d been through worse than this, she’d been to hell and back, she wouldn’t let Rowan ruin what little self worth she had left.
With a slow inhale, she turned on the faucet, getting her face wash ready to start her morning routine. She had shit to do today, she couldn’t get off schedule already.
Aelin washed her face quickly, and applied her toner, serums, moisturizer, and sunscreen, before brushing her hair and braiding it back. And without coffee, and without any sort of breakfast at all, she changed into her workout clothes, heading straight for the treadmill.
She’d sweat all her problems away.
But before she could, her doorbell rang. Aelin paused mid motion, and stepped away from the treadmill, furrowing her brows as she walked toward the door. Hesitantly she opened it, but relaxed when she saw Aedion outside in the hallway.
“Hey,” she said, smoothing her hair back. “What are you doing here so early?”
It was only 6 am.
“It was the only time I knew you’d be here,” her cousin said, his voice flat. Her smile faded. “You haven’t responded to my texts or anything, I didn’t know if you were dead or alive, I didn’t know if you-”
She cut him off with a hug, stopping him in his tracks. But he hugged her back, wrapping her up in his arms.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, tears coming to her eyes. A rebellious one slipped down her face as she squeezed her eyes shut, and she sniffed to try and hold the rest back.
“Hey,” Aedion said, pulling back a little bit. “What’s wrong?”
Another tear slipped down her face, and she wiped it away, letting out a shaky laugh. “Where do you want me to start?” Aedion stepped inside the apartment, shutting the door, and she went to go sit down on the couch, hugging her knees. He sat down next to her.
“I think I need to go back to therapy,” she admitted quietly, not looking at him. But like she knew he wouldn’t, he didn’t laugh at her or make fun of her or even question the statement. He just supported her.
“Okay,” he said, and she looked over, seeing him nod. “The same place as last time? Dr. Towers?”
Aelin considered it for a second before saying yes. Dr. Towers was young for a therapist, which she liked when first going to see her all those years ago. She’d be a little older now obviously, but Aelin herself was older too. She’d always felt comfortable with her, and Dr. Towers had never been the reason Aelin stopped going.
So, it’d be a good place to start.
“Do you want me to set up an appointment?” Aedion asked, and Aelin chuckled, looking at him through watery eyes.
“I’m an adult, Aedion,” she said, smiling, “I can make my own appointments.” He narrowed his eyes at her jokingly.
“I’m not so sure,” he said, and she rolled her eyes.
“I’m not fifteen anymore,” she said.
“No,” he said, leaning over to ruffle her hair, “but you’ll always be my baby cousin.” She pushed him away, but was laughing as she did it, her heart warm.
“I love you,” she said, leaning her head on his shoulder. His arm rested on her shoulders.
“Love you too, Ae,” he said, and after a minute, he said, “we’re getting drinks at The Stag again tonight, should we expect you?”
“No,” she said, nearly automatically, sitting up and shaking her head. “I can’t tonight, I’m busy.” But he must’ve seen something on her face because he didn’t buy the excuse this time.
“Is this about Rowan?” Aedion asked, and she looked at him, seeing understanding in his eyes. “I don’t know what happened between you two, but do I need to beat him up?”
She was tempted to say yes, but she only chuckled humorlessly and shook her head. “It’s not worth it,” she said. “Just another disappointment.”
“Well,” her cousin said, “I’m here to talk if you ever need to.”
“I know you are,” she said, smiling tightly, “and I appreciate it. I just need some time.”
Time, and maybe a miracle.
------
Rowan was the biggest idiot to ever walk the earth. He’d known that the minute she walked out the door, and it only sunk in more as the sun went down and came back up again.
He wished Aelin had let him explain, but he didn’t blame her for not. He should’ve spoken about it to her like a reasonable person instead of trying to decide which things she needed to know or not.
After Aelin had left, he’d finally done what he should’ve done originally and told off Remelle for continuing to harass him, before blocking her number and her email. It didn’t fucking matter anyway, he’d decided that even if he didn’t get the job, he was going to quit anyway.
He couldn’t stay there, not anymore.
And though part of him longed to reach out to Aelin, to try and appeal to her, he thought it best to give her space for a little bit, knowing how she was feeling. Hovering would do absolutely nothing.
But he couldn’t let her go forever. He couldn’t bear it.
So what could he do to earn her forgiveness?
He huffed a sigh, rubbing his hand over his face. This was too fucking much. Rowan took a sip of his coffee, hoping that the caffeine would spark his inspiration. The sun was barely up, but he’d never even made it to sleep the night before.
But as he was reaching to take another sip, his phone rang. He paused, his heart racing as he set the cup back down, reaching for the device.
It was the Institute.
He couldn’t breathe as he answered it, barely croaking out a “yes?”
“Mr. Whitethorn?” The voice on the other end spoke, and he said yes again. “Sorry for the early hour, but we’re thrilled to tell you that you’ve been selected for the position.”
And instead of racing, his heart stopped completely. The HR rep on the phone started telling him more information about the job, and when he’d have to come in to do entry paperwork and the likes, but all Rowan could think about was Aelin, and how he wished he could share this with her.
And in that moment, he realized something so important, and yet so devastating he could hardly function. He loved her. But she was gone.
But it was then, as the news about the job finally sunk in, that an idea struck him. An idea that just might work.
------
Dr. Towers’ office looked exactly the same as it had eight years ago. And Aelin felt strangely young as she sat on the couch across from the woman, waiting to start their session. She’d managed to get a next day appointment, which she was grateful for, there was a lot she needed to talk about.
“May I ask you what brought you in today, Aelin?” Dr. Towers asked, smiling at her warmly. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you last.”
There were more pressing issues, Aelin knew. There was Arobynn, and the NDA, and the eating issue, the exercise issue, the self esteem issue, so much wrong with her. But the first thing that came to her mind was Rowan.
“How does one move on from someone they think they’re in love with, when they broke your heart and you still don’t understand why?” She asked, all in a rush, shocking the doctor.
“Well,” Dr. Towers said, blinking, “it generally isn’t a very quick process, but closure tends to help.” She hummed a bit, and Aelin deflated. “You said you don’t understand why?” And Aelin shook her head.
“No,” she said, “but he kept trying to explain, or that’s what he said. I didn’t want to hear excuses.” Dr. Towers nodded slowly.
“Now,” she said, gesturing with a hand, “I don’t know the exact situation, so you can feel free to disregard my advice. But maybe you could hear him out?” Aelin frowned. “And if you don’t like what he has to say, you have my permission to fully cut him out of your life. But if you’re willing, it couldn’t hurt to try, right?”
“I guess,” Aelin muttered, considering the idea. Rowan did seem really desperate to get his words out. But the text; she didn’t think she’d be able to forget how crushed she’d been in that moment. And from Remelle of all people. She barely knew the girl, but every time they’d interacted, it’d been an attempt to tear Aelin down.
“Just think about it,” Dr. Towers said, before leaning back in her armchair. “Now, I know that’s not the only reason you’re here today, is it?”
A heavy weight settled in Aelin’s stomach and she shook her head slowly.
“There’s a lot going on,” she said quietly, fighting the urge to shut down and shut up. “A lot that I don’t know what to do about.”
“I understand,” Dr. Towers said, smiling gently. “It takes a lot of strength to even make it to this step, Aelin. I want you to understand that.” Aelin glanced up at her. “You’ve already done the hard part, asking for help.” She relaxed slightly. “Now I’m just here to give it to you.”
Aelin’s lips curled up slightly on the corners, a ghost of a smile on her face as a tiny sprig of hope grew in her heart.
Maybe, just maybe, she’d be okay. Even without Rowan.
But her heart still ached for him, and she knew the ache would last for a long time.
------
Aelin got the note a few hours after getting home from Dr. Towers’ office, finding it slipped under her door after returning from the bathroom.
Meet me at the park at 7. Please.
It wasn’t signed, but it was clear who it was from. She supposed Rowan had resorted to handwritten notes, given she’d blocked his number, and his work email address had conspicuously disappeared. A bit of joy went through her when she’d first discovered that, though she tried to temper it, but though he’d betrayed her, it wasn’t as easy as she’d hoped to get away from the feelings she had for him.
Which was why, taking Dr. Towers’ advice, she decided to go to the park.
It wasn’t an easy decision, and a large part of her brain told her to fuck him and stay at her apartment, but a smaller and infinitely more powerful part of her brain told her to go. To at least hear him out. She’d trusted him before, maybe she needed to trust him again.
Aelin threw on a light sundress, and tied her hair up with a clip, putting on a pair of sandals before she left her apartment, nerves racing through her. It wasn’t too long of a walk to get to the park, but every step felt like a mile as she both anticipated and feared this interaction.
It’d only been a few days since they’d last seen each other, but it felt like an eternity. She hated him, she missed him, she… loved him. She loved him.
She’d hinted at it to her therapist, but it was only now she was admitting it to herself. Aelin Galathynius loved Rowan Whitethorn, and there was nothing she could do to change it.
When the trees first came into her sight, she slowed down, inhaling shakily as she considered if she really wanted to do this. But the answer was yes, it would always be yes, so she exhaled and kept going, not giving herself another moment to doubt.
She came up on their tree pretty quickly, and stopped, looking around in amazement at what he’d done. He’d printed out every single photo he’d taken of her, both the ones from the photoshoot and others he’d taken various days after, when they were still blissfully happy. And he’d strung up lights too, setting the area aglow in the fading evening light.
“Rowan,” she whispered, turning over her shoulder to find him standing there, a bouquet of kingsflame in his hands.
“Aelin,” he said, just as gently, with so much emotion in his eyes.
“This is beautiful,” she had to admit, her voice tight.
“I know you don’t like pictures of yourself,” he said, stepping closer. “I know it still brings you pain, but I wanted to show you that all of these pictures show the happiest moments of my life.” He took another step toward her, and her eyes filled with tears. “Every single one of these pictures show a time when I was at peace, when I was filled with joy, when I was content, because I was with you.”
She sniffed, looking up to look at him in the eyes as he stepped closer.
“I would never jeopardize that for anything,” his voice shuddered, his head shaking. “You’re the best thing to happen to me, and I would never throw that away.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Here. You can read all of the texts between me and Remelle. She was harassing me, even after the gala, and I couldn’t stop her, no matter how much I tried.” She looked at him, seeing how sincere his face was. “I was going to meet with her in person to finally try and convince her that nothing would ever happen, but I made a mistake in not telling you. I admit that. I would never be involved with someone like her. And I would never betray you like that.” His eyes were full of pain. “Please believe me.”
She shook her head. “I don’t need your phone,” she said, her throat tight. He looked devastated for a second, so she added to her statement quickly, smiling gently. “Because I believe you.”
It took a second to process, but then pure elation filled his face.
“You do?” He asked, like he couldn’t believe it. And she nodded, lifting a hand to cup his cheek.
“I do,” she repeated, warmth filling her as he leaned in to kiss her deeply, whispering against her lips -
“I love you.”
She pulled back, shocked, but he didn’t look like he regretted saying it, so she laughed, tears running down her face as she said it back. “I love you too.”
He kissed her again, his hands sliding around her back. And then he was lifting her and spinning her, making her laugh. When he finally set her down, they rested their foreheads together, just breathing each other in.
“I’m starting therapy again,” she admitted, after a minute or two, and his handsome face curled into a soft smile.
“I’m proud of you,” he said, his thumb caressing her lower back where his hands rested on her waist. Warmth spread through her at the simple words. Did he know how much they meant to her?
“And I’m not going to sign the NDA,” she said as well, “I don’t know what I’m going to do yet, but I’m not going to give in like that. I’m not going to silence myself.” She glanced up into his green eyes, still so close to hers. “I’m guessing you got the job?” She asked, her lips curling into a grin. “Your email disappeared.”
“I did,” he admitted, his face lit up with joy, and she couldn’t help but kiss him again.
“I love you,” she said again, not able to stop herself. “And I’m so proud of you too.”
Rowan kissed her forehead, before spinning her around and wrapping her in a hug from behind, pressing quick kisses on her neck. She hummed in satisfaction, hugging his arms. She didn’t think she’d ever been happier than she was in this moment.
“We’re going to have to tell everyone,” she said, smiling at the thought. She craned her head to look up at him. “We’re going to be teased relentlessly.” Rowan just shrugged.
“I can deal with even Fenrys’ ridiculous comments,” he said, “as long as we’re together.”
“How long will that be?” She asked teasingly, and he grinned.
“I was hoping forever,” he said, and her smile turned shy.
“I think that can be arranged.”
“Yeah?” He asked, and she nodded. “Good. Because I have no plans on leaving anytime soon.”
She chuckled. “Leave me? Or leave the park? Because I’m getting a little cold.”
“Smart ass,” he said, flicking her nose. She laughed again, cuddling back into him.
“Can we go back to your apartment though?” She asked, spinning around to face him. “I’m in the mood for some green beans. And something else,” she added slyly, fluttering her lashes.
“You’re insatiable,” he teased, smiling, “but yes we can. We can go anywhere you’d like, as long as we’re together.”
Together. It was such a simple word, but to her it meant everything. She was no longer alone, facing the shit storm of the world alone. She had him by her side, and that would always be enough.
A very ✨HAPPY BIRTHDAY✨ goes out to @offtorivendell and @nikethestatue! Having your birthday’s a few day’s apart, I’ve officially dedicated this fluffy update to you. You both have been such a joy to interact and become friends with. Thank you for being a huge part of the Elriel fandom 🌸🦇, and just two amazing people in general. I truly hope you enjoy your special day! 💙💜💚
My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics
My ao3 account: tswaney17
Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕
Catch up here.
Credit to @featherymalignancy for Cassian’s nickname, Cash. 😘
Trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault, language, NSFW
"What the fuck am I doing in your bed" - Elorcan fic
Summary: Elide unexpectedly finds herself in a bed that isn't hers. One shot.
Read on AO3.
What the fuck am I doing in your bed
Self-loathing and guilt burned at the edges of the dark hole in Lorcan’s chest, the hole that had grown with every passing day that Elide ignored him, as she walked past him silently after another meager dinner of stale bread and cheese.
He played her words on the beach over and over in his head. Knew them to be true. Each time they echoed in his mind, the hole seared and grew larger.
Later in the night, after his first watch was relieved by Gavriel, Lorcan threw himself down on his bedroll, determined to find oblivion from his own personal hell, even for just a few hours.
It seemed like he had barely shut his eyes and found sleep when a sound woke him. And a scent near him. Elide.
When he had walked back to his bedroll earlier, he’d tossed a glance at her, fast asleep on the other side of their little camp. His usual habit. The only time he could look at her without risking an irritated sigh or the way she’d turn her head away from him, as if he wasn’t even worth her sight, let alone her time.
Now her scent inundated his senses. The familiar cinnamon and elderberry was soaked in fear. He jerked up on one elbow to look at her where she kneeled beside his bedroll.
Her eyes were oddly half-lidded, her lips slack. Lorcan’s brow furrowed.
“Elide?” he whispered cautiously.
But she didn’t give any response, nor did her face give any indication that she heard. Then he realized—she wasn’t actually awake. She was sleepwalking.
His eyebrows shot up as Elide, unceremoniously, and without word or warning, crawled into his bed.
Lorcan, shocked to his core, automatically opened his arms as she curled up against him, burying her face in his chest. A deep sigh gusted out of her lungs, the scent of fear ebbing away with it. Slowly, hesitantly, he drew her tight against him. He brushed his lips over her forehead, still unsure if he should touch her like that, if she’d jump up and tear him a new one, lash him to shreds with that tongue of hers.
But his yearning was too strong, and the way Elide’s hand gripped his shirt as she leaned closer into his body assuaged his fear, so he risked it, pressing a kiss to the smooth skin of her brow. And was rewarded with another little sigh that escaped her lips. Longing rushed through his body, and he prayed to his dark god that this wouldn’t be the only time he got to hear those sounds.
She must have had a nightmare, he realized. One that drove her out of her bed still half-asleep and...into his. He turned it over in his mind as he held her, a calloused thumb stroking softly over the skin of her arm.
He lay awake for a long time, watching her, and when finally sleep claimed him, there was a faint smile on his face.
~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_
“What the FUCK am I doing in your bed?!”
Small hands smacked against his chest as Lorcan jumped awake, his arms tightening around Elide instinctively.
She pushed at him again, and he let go of her, finally awake.
“What the hell are you playing at?” she hissed at him as she extricated herself from his limbs, which were tangled with hers, and his blanket, which he had wrapped tightly around her back to keep out the night cold.
His eyes narrowed at her accusation. “I’m not playing at shit, Elide. You’re the one who crawled into my bed in the middle of the night.”
“I did NOT!” she exclaimed hotly. Crimson flooded her cheeks, and Lorcan couldn’t help but drink in the sight, the brilliant color set off against her milky skin.
“You did,” he said evenly. “I’m fairly certain you were sleepwalking.”
Elide scrambled away from his bedroll in a huff. “Clearly,” she seethed, “I was unconscious and out of my mind.”
Lorcan’s eyes lingered on her figure as she limped away. He collapsed back on the blankets, running his hands through his hair in irritation, smothering a curse. But the bedroll beneath him still smelled of her, and he inhaled deeply, trying to let it settle him. His thoughts drifted back to earlier when she lay in his arms, the feeling of her pressing closer against his body. It glowed inside him, a little ember illuminating centuries of darkness.
All day, riding, walking, going from town to town, tavern to tavern, as Elide tried to glean more news of Maeve, as Gavriel cooked, as Rowan brooded, as Lorcan collected wood and stood silent watch, all day that tiny ember warmed him, the feel of her imprinted on his arms like a tattoo. Like a branding.
~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~
Two nights later, it happened again. The same odd half-open eyes. The same scent of fear wrapped around her.
Lorcan knew he’d pay for it in the morning, but when Elide slipped to his side and lay down beside him, he didn’t hesitate to pull her in his arms and tug her flush against his body.
And same as the other night, the smell of fear dissipated. She hummed softly in her sleep. A sigh. Just one word spilling from her lips. “Lorcan.”
Heat cracked his chest open. It had been so long since he’d heard her say his name.
Elide snuggled even closer, and he kissed her forehead, once, twice. If he was going to hell in the morning, Lorcan decided, he might as well make it worth it. He lifted a hand from her back and ran it down the glossy length of her hair, reveling in the silky threads that he carded between his fingers.
He didn’t go to sleep that night. There was no way in hell that he was going to miss one minute of time to stare at her freely, especially not when he knew that he’d get a very different Elide when she woke.
A strange thought darted through his mind that it would continue on this way. Two Elides. One by day who hated him, who glared at him, who split him apart on her sharp tongue; and another by night who sought comfort, who sighed his name, who burrowed into his chest like she couldn’t get close enough.
When the faint light of dawn stole over the eastern sky, Elide began to stir in Lorcan’s arms. She gave a great sigh, a small contented smile spreading on her face as she exhaled. One of her hands relaxed from where it had fisted Lorcan’s shirt all night, and her palm smoothed absently over the hard planes of his chest.
Fireworks exploded in Lorcan’s stomach. He hardly dared move a muscle.
Elide’s eyes snapped open, the realization of what she was doing washed over her expression. She snatched her hand away from his chest like it was hot iron.
“How dare you,” she spat, enraged all over again.
“Sweetheart,” Lorcan growled, “you’re the one who came to my bed, and you’re the one groping me like a piece of meat.”
She scrambled out of the circle of his arms with a glare. “Don’t worry. It’s never going to happen again,” she flung out venomously.
Lorcan watched her walk away, the hole in his chest a strange contrast to the sparks blazing in his stomach.
But of course it did happen again. The following night. Lorcan really couldn’t believe his luck. And in the morning Elide let out an exasperated noise, disentangled herself, and stalked away with a dark look on her face, this time not even bothering to berate him.
~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~
Elide shot upright in her bed. Her heart pounding a rhythm like a stampede. Her hands shaking. Dread and fear and helplessness twisted nauseatingly in her gut.
The tendrils of her nightmare still clung to her: the familiar bite of shackles, her uncle’s cruel voice, the sound of guards laughing at her while they threw her underclothes back and forth between them, the feel of their hands pinching rudely.
Elide tried to push the images away. Tried to take deep gulps of cool night air. Calm down, she told herself sternly.
But her hands wouldn’t stop shaking, and the sense of doom that gripped her, that churned in her stomach, didn’t let up. Her vision spun. She gasped, trying desperately to catch a breath.
Lorcan.
The name bubbled up in the midst of the swirling mess of her mind and she held onto it like a lifeline. Like the only thing in the darkness that was solid. But it wasn’t enough.
Lorcan.
His name rose again, breaking through the surface of her panic. Finally she gained some small measure of control over herself, and crept on quivering legs over to his bedroll.
Her breathing was harsh and ragged, shallow, and when her knees dropped to the ground beside him, he jolted awake.
“Elide?” His voice was sleep-roughened.
Tears coursed down her cheeks, and her hands shook violently. “I—I—”
Lorcan inhaled sharply. He pulled the corner of the blanket back and stretched out a hand towards her. “Come here,” he said in a soft voice. A voice she’d never heard from him. Colored in tenderness.
Maybe she would have hesitated a week ago. Maybe she would have hesitated if her mind wasn’t so addled with panic. But she didn’t. She crawled into his bed and buried her face in his chest as he drew the blanket over her, gathering her trembling form into his arms.
“Breathe, Elide,” he murmured. His hands drew soothing circles over her back. “Just breathe. I’ve got you.”
Elide tried, but her inhales were jagged and her exhales shallow. Darkness swarmed her and the world spun.
“Breathe.” This time was an order, and the sheer dominance in the word overwhelmed the terror coursing through her and made something in her blood stand at attention.
She inhaled, a real breath.
“Let it out slowly,” Lorcan instructed, his tone gentler.
She did, pursing her lips and letting the air slowly seep out of her.
“That’s it,” he murmured. “Good girl. Again.”
Elide took another breath. She felt the rise and fall of Lorcan’s chest and tried to match his rhythm. His hand didn’t stray from her back. Slowly, the panic ebbed and her breathing eased back to normal.
She felt Lorcan’s lips brush over her forehead. Not kissing her, but a whispering caress that made every muscle in her body loosen. A relaxation that somehow eased her even closer into his body, her softness slotting into his angles. Elide wondered what she was doing and at the same time couldn’t bring herself to care.
Although the panicked fear had receded from her body like a flash flood, it left her exhausted, shipwrecked.
She slept.
~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~
Elide floated up into consciousness, a peaceful weight surrounding her. A sense of safety she hadn’t known in many years.
Onyx eyes met hers when she woke fully. Crowded eyes. Full of wariness and tenderness, fear and hope. Regret. Reverence. Dread.
The last she knew was on her. He was waiting for her to flay him open, as she had many times these last few weeks and these recent strange mornings waking in his arms.
But today she was quiet. Something in her had quieted. The nightmare from the previous night flashed back through her mind; certainly not the first, nor the first she woke from like that. But usually she was alone. And could deal with them alone. The intensity with which she needed him last night scared her. It had been a long time since she needed someone.
But. It had been a long time since she felt this peaceful, said a little voice in her head. So she watched him, as he watched her, and the sky overhead lightened.
At last Elide withdrew, and Lorcan let her. She rose quietly and limped away.
~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~
Out of the corner of his eye, Lorcan observed Elide readying for bed. She brushed her hair, took off her outer jacket and folded it. Reorganized her pack. The small little things that he knew by heart now.
He watched her putter around with a small mirror, and almost thought she was…dawdling.
But since she didn’t once look his way, Lorcan lay down on his own bedroll, giving up hope that she’d say anything to him, or do anything, or even glance at him. He was almost disgusted with himself, a dog so eager for scraps of attention. A dog, he’d called Rowan. Lorcan grimaced internally. But the feeling didn’t stop his yearning.
Sighing, he closed his eyes. Only to open them when Elide’s scent floated over his face. She stood next to him, staring down, her face unreadable. Neither moved for a long moment. He didn’t even take a breath as he looked up at her.
At last Lorcan lifted the corner of his blanket and tossed it back. An invitation. Letting her choose. If she chose to walk away, fine. He’d survive.
But to his utter shock, Elide lowered herself to the ground with her good ankle, slipping in beside him and curling up against his side.
Moving slowly, as if she were a skittish animal he’d scare off, Lorcan slid one arm over her waist. And when she didn’t object, his other arm slipped under her neck. Going slow as molasses, slower than he’d ever moved in his life, he drew her in closer. Every muscle in his body was taut with anticipation and trepidation alike.
But she let him. Astonishingly. She laid one of her small hands flat on his chest, and he wondered if her human senses could perceive the breakneck pace of his heartbeat.
Elide let out a deep breath, a small contented noise rising from the back of her throat. He angled his head down to gently kiss her brow where it was tucked into the crook of his neck.
One more tiny sigh, and then her breathing evened out. Lorcan brushed another kiss over her pale skin and smiled into the darkness.
Disclaimer: this post contains major spoilers from House of Sky and Breath
This was so much fun to make, it'll make everyone's lives easier including myself haha so happy reading everyone! I tried my best to include accurate info🤍
Percy calling Annabeth "love" by accident or it slipped out or something and then finding out she really loves it and it becoming a thing and in a few months they're so used to it it's a part of their lived
in which Percy and Annabeth haven’t been dating all that long, and he accidentally calls her love,, percabeth,,
Percy quickly learns that there’s a million different things he loves about dating Annabeth.
From the first time they kissed, he fell in love with the feeling of her lips on his. It didn’t take long for him to fall in love with the feeling of her skin against his, or the way she slips perfectly into his arms with every hug.
Even at sixteen, he knows that this is the girl that he’s going to marry someday.
Still, they’ve decided to take things slowly, and he loves that just as much. There’s something he loves so much about their ephemeral touches as they pass by the pavilion or the excitement when they do decide to take things further, letting those fleeting kisses turn into something more heated and passionate.
Slow. It’s not the worst thing in the world, he thinks.
He especially likes slow in moments like these when Annabeth is in his cabin past dark, just lying in his lap while he twirls strands of her curls between his fingers. It’s peaceful and familiar, and it’s just as he likes it to be.
He’s sure that she’s fallen asleep by now with the way her breathing is even and her eyes closed so he can inspect every detail of her face, but she shifts slightly, and he smiles.
“Hey,” he says softly, brushing a finger against cheek. “You’re still awake?”
Annabeth smiles and stretches languidly, and Percy desperately wants to kiss her with how cute and sleepy she looks right now. She yawns, and Percy audibly coos.
“You’re tired,” he notes. “You can go to sleep.”
“And miss the only time alone that we ever get? No way.”
Percy grins. “You’re missing it anyways laying here half-asleep.”
“You’re comfortable to lay on.”
“Am I?”
“Mhm. You’re like a cuddly teddy bear. My personal pillow.” Even as she speaks, her eyes begin to flutter shut.
Percy just keeps playing with her hair in silence for a bit before he speaks. “I must be a good pillow if you’re falling asleep that fast.”
Annabeth’s eyes open and she looks at him playfully. “Shut up.”
“I’m not complaining,” he reassures her, brushing her hair behind her ear. “It’s cute. I like you when you’re not trying to kick my ass at capture the flag.”
“What do you mean trying? I play to win.”
Percy leans down slightly so he can kiss her. “If there’s anyone I’d want to lose to, it’s you.”
“Oh, you’re such a romantic loser. I love it.”
Percy smiles widely, eyes sparkling. “I try.”
“You know how you could be more romantic?”
“Hm?”
“Get me a glass of water. I’m thirsty.”
Percy throws his head back and groans, but he’s already lifting himself off the mattress to grab a fresh bottle he knows is around here somewhere. “Only because I really like you,” he says, shooting her a soft smile. He can’t deny her anything, really.
He tracks around his cabin in search of the water and hears Annabeth turning onto her side. It’s not until he turns around with the water in hand that he catches her eyes glued to him. He doesn’t say anything, instead slowly approaching her and holding the bottle out towards her. When she reaches for it, he pulls it back quickly.
“You were staring at me,” he says with a smirk, holding the bottle just out of her reach.
“You have a cute butt,” is what she says. It’s enough of a surprise to press a choked laugh out of his throat.
“Do I really?”
“You do. It’s so small and cute.”
“I’m glad you like my ass.”
“Oh, don’t pretend you don’t like mine too.”
Percy isn’t really sure what to say to that. She’s not particularly wrong, but he’s definitely not going to tell her that.
Another thing he’s learned about her in their little time of dating is that late-night Annabeth is much looser in what she says. She says what’s on her mind, and it never fails to bring a subtle grin to his face because it’s not the way she normally speaks during the day when they’re around other people. It’s just the two of them, and it makes him feel trusted and a little more in love.
“Can I have my water now?” she asks, pouting her lips. It’s something she does because she knows it’s a foolproof method of getting her way. He can’t resist giving her what she wants when she looks like that.
Percy steps forwards again and hands her the water. “Here you go, love.”
It takes him a few seconds to realize what he’s just said, and it takes him a few more after that to see the look on Annabeth’s face.
Taking things slow has meant he hasn’t actually called her any pet names as much as he’s wanted to. He’s been so careful about this, making sure they move at a pace she’s comfortable with, so he certainly hadn’t meant to spit it out right now.
They’re slow, but this feels like a sudden push in their relationship, which is only a little bit ridiculous, he realizes, since it’s just a cute name.
Percy’s brain seems to be short-circuiting as his mouth drops open slowly. Annabeth’s looking him in the eyes again, but she seems to be more amused than anything.
“I’m–”
Annabeth laughs now, and Percy’s face flushes a bright red.
“I didn’t mean to call you that,” he tries, scratching his neck.
“No?”
“I mean… It’s not that I didn’t mean it. But I know you wanted to take things slow, and it just slipped out.”
Annabeth sits up on the bed, her legs tucked underneath her. Her arms reach out to wrap around his neck and pull him closer to her so she can kiss him properly.
“I liked it,” she whispers against him.
Percy’s lips twitch up, but he still feels the heat in his cheeks. “Well, I’m glad you liked it because I’m mortified.”
“Don’t be,” she says. “In fact… I think you should say it more often.”
“Well, now you’re just messing with me.”
“I’m serious.” Annabeth presses kisses up the side of his neck, and he thinks this is anything but slow. “I want you to keep calling me that.”
She tugs him harder towards her until he trips onto the bed. He just barely manages to catch himself before he crushes her, and when he does, she tilts him over so that she can kick one leg over him.
Percy lifts her chin back to his face so he can kiss her hard. “I think I can manage that.”
When her hands start sliding underneath his shirt, fingers tracing over each and every muscle that’s formed after years of intensive training, Percy feels lightheaded. He traces four letters onto her back over and over again, displaying the love he holds for her, as Annabeth tugs on the hem of his shirt.
It turns out that the opposite of slow is just as nice.
part XIII of NEVER SHALL WE DIE - a percabeth pirate au series by @timelesslords and @captain-jackson
“Please sir,” she says, her voice just a touch higher than usual, looking up at him with wide, gray eyes. “I know not what my family did to offend you, but I beg of you to release me.”
“Release you? Now why would I let a pretty little thing like yourself go?” Percy says, grinning. He crosses the room to stand at the foot of the bed, towering over her. He pushes her chin up with two fingers, not altogether carefully.
“My father will pay you,” Annabeth says, “whatever ransom you desire, it will be yours.”
Percy laughs. He knows it's part of the game, but the suggestion is still ludicrous.
“And what use have I for your father’s gold? It seems I’ve found myself with something infinitely more valuable.”
***
What do you get the man who has everything for his birthday? Annabeth thinks she has an idea.
jacobvanloon
vaporwave
romaincrisis
kaledo-art
annaxmalina
