#acoamf

[cursebrkr]

[epochofbelief]

What to Expect When You’re (Not) Expecting: Chapter Twelve

an A Court of Thorns and Roses Modern Au

All characters belong to SJM!

WTEWY(N)E Masterlist

My other completed fic: Breath Control

Enjoy and let me know if you’d like to be tagged!

TWELVE

Feyre

Monday morning, I walked into the school with a mission. I had thought about what Mor told me. This led to me coming to the conclusion that a friendship with Rhys wouldn’t hurt and that if I wanted it, I’d have to work for it. I decided to text Rhys and casually ask how he was doing. Emphasis on casually.

Before the first bell, I drafted a text, sent it, and turned my phone over. I was determined not to look at it until at least second hour.

Thinking about potential responses from Rhys kept me anxious and distracted for the entirety of my first hour. The freshman I was teaching were confused the whole time, and when they realized my brain wasn’t all there, they started getting rowdy. For the life of me I couldn’t get the group in the back to quiet down. Finally, in the last ten minutes of class, I told them they had free time to work on their essay and to come talk to me if they needed help with outlining it or anything.

I slumped into the chair behind my desk. Reached for my phone, and--

A sharp knock sounded on my classroom door. Startled, I abandoned my phone and went to answer it.

The door swung open to reveal the Velaris High School Principal, Mr. Autumns. My heart stopped when I looked up to see his face.

“Mr. Autumns!” I spluttered. “How can I help you?” I had never received such a personal visit from the standoffish principal of the school. 

“Ms. Archeron.” His beady eyes bored into mine. I held back a shudder. “May I speak with you in the hall for a moment?”

I cast a backward glance at my full classroom. All twenty pairs of eyes were zeroed in on my and the principal. I raised my brows at the class, trying to convey a look that said, “If you get out of control, I’ll give you no more than half-credit on all your essays,” but I wasn’t really sure if it came across properly. I got several weird looks from the kids in the front row. And I had a feeling the ones in the back were already plotting something to do while I was away. Weren’t high schoolers supposed to be mature? Nevertheless, I stepped into the hall and pulled the door shut behind me.

“What is it?”

Autumns crossed his arms, his chin tilted at an extremely sharp angle just to be able to see me from such a height. “I didn’t want to have to do this, Ms. Archeron. I know you’ve had a rough couple of months. But your work just hasn’t been up to my or the school’s standards. Your lesson plans are haphazard at best, you’re extremely behind on grading and grade reports, and I don’t think your students are getting enough homework.”

I blinked. What? He looked at me expectantly, his lips cutting a cruel, thin line across the bottom half of his face.

“I don’t understand. I’ve been getting my lesson plans in on time, and I work really hard on them. My students have plenty of homework, and most of their grades are fantastic.”

Autumns shrugged his shoulders. “You’re a new teacher, and you’ve suffered a terrible loss. I’ve been cutting you some slack. But it’s time to realize that those lesson plans need to be written out much further in advance. And you’ve got to get on top of your grading. Otherwise, we might have to take more drastic action.” He leaned closer to me. “And we wouldn’t want to have to do that, would we Ms. Archeron?”

I swallowed. What an asshole. I wanted to yell, to scream, to tell him I was doing the best I could and the kids in my class were learning even if I didn’t give them hours of homework every night. Wasn’t learning the most important thing?

But with the kids, money was tight. If I didn’t swallow my pride, if I let myself get angry at the guy who could fire me on the spot. . . No, probably not the best course of action.

I pursed my lips. “No. No, we wouldn’t. I’ll do better. I promise.”

Autumns smiled, although it didn’t reach his eyes. “Good. I’ll be keeping a close eye on things in case you need any further. . . assistance.”

I could barely spit out the next disgusting words that came from my mouth. “Thank you, sir.”

His smile widened. He turned on his heel. As I was about to reenter the classroom, taking a few breaths to steady myself beforehand, I heard his voice call out to me from down the hall as he walked away.

“Get those lesson plans up to snuff, Ms. Archeron!” He chirped in a singsong voice. I very nearly ripped open my classroom door and slammed it behind me. Bastard. Ignorant, sexist, male pig. I stomped over to my desk and threw myself down into the chair. Huffed out a loud breath and maybe let a few hissed curse words escape 

Then I remembered I had a classroom full of kids in front of me.

I glanced up at them.

The twenty sets of eyes were locked on me yet again, although now the teenagers’ expressions were a mixture of curious, awestruck, and maybe a little frightened. I smiled.

“Anyone need some help with their essays?”

 --------------

 So upsetting was my little chat with Mr. Autumns, I entirely forgot about my text to Rhys until my lunch break. When I picked up my phone to scroll through social media, I had two messages from him. My salad forgotten, I almost knocked over the ungraded stack of essays next to me while typing in my password. Taking deep breaths, telling myself to stop making a scene, I opened my long-dead conversation with Rhys and read his reply.

Rhysand Night: I’m doing well.

Rhysand Night: Meeting up to talk sounds good

I almost passed out with relief. Maybe he didn’t hate me. If he didn’t, at least that was one positive thing to come out of this day. I’d grown even more out of sorts after Autumn’s surprise meeting with me. It was all I could do to keep control of my classes when I kept replaying his words to me over and over in my head. I wasn’t doing enough. My work sucked. I was in danger of losing my job.

That wasn’t an option. The kids needed me, and I needed money so I could do things like feed them and give them whatever they needed. Had I still been with Tamlin, I would have allowed him to pitch in. But that was no longer an option.

I made a note to start churning out more content for prints to sell on my online shop. I’d been doing steady business on the store for a few months now. The only thing slowing it down was my lack of time to create more art. I wasn’t sure how I’d increase production and improve the quality of my teaching work, but somehow, I’d have to do both. I needed the extra cash from the print shop in case the worst happened at school.

I typed out a vague response to Rhys, suggesting he come have dinner with his siblings one night next week. He responded almost immediately. My heartbeat ratcheted up when I saw how quickly he answered.

Oh my god. I was sixteen again. He has a girlfriend, Feyre.

I left the school earlier than normal because I needed to do some grocery shopping. I also needed to buy Basil some new shoes. He was growing so fast, I could barely keep up with him. I texted Rachel and told her I’d be back around six, giving me enough time to shop for food and clothing.

When I was in the supercenter, I remembered that I also needed to buy Aspen a daisy scouts vest, and we also needed to buy the required forty boxes of cookies she had to sell this fall. But after I saw the checkout total for groceries and Bas’s shoes, I started wondering whether I’d be able to afford all of that right now. Sure, I could buy it. But my savings account was dwindling, much as I tried to put my salary into it whenever I could.

I reluctantly handed over my debit card to the cashier, who gave me a look as though she understood my money struggles all too well. After she swiped it, I loaded up my car and drove straight to the bar a block from my place. 

After this day, I needed a stiff drink before I went home to the kids.

-------------------

Rhysand

Amy and I were in an argument. The reason for the argument? I didn’t really know. She wanted to spend more time with me, apparently. I had a feeling she just wanted to have sex a lot more often, but as I kept reminding her, I had more responsibilities than the average twenty-four year old man. She didn’t care, of course. She never asked to spend time with my siblings; not that I really wanted her to get within ten feet of them. Amy, despite being exciting and dangerous, was kind of a bitch. My siblings didn’t need her as an example for behavior or relationships.

Because of my stress about Amy, after work on a Monday in early October I stopped off at a bar near the high school before going home. Nearly everything today had gone wrong at the Dreamhouse and my development across town.  Plumbers didn’t show up, supplies weren’t coming quickly enough, landscaping refused to work on certain days. . . You name it, it probably happened today. Fighting with Amy (an impossible task) was the cherry on top it all, and I needed a drink. 

I sat at the bar, swirling the whiskey in my glass around and staring into space. Feyre Archeron had texted me today. She’d actually reached out. It’d been a month, so I should be over that little crush. . . But seeing her randomly at the Dreamhouse or hearing about her from Rachel was torture. Not to mention, Feyre and my cousin had become pretty good friends over the past few weeks. I couldn’t escape her no matter where I turned. Honestly, a small part of me didn’t really want to escape her.[1] 

When Feyre had texted me today I couldn’t stop myself from responding as soon as I read her message. She wanted to talk. Had she decided she could stomach being around me even though I was part of the reason her engagement had ended? She probably just wanted to clear the air, but what if she wanted something more?

Doesn’t matter, Rhys, I chided myself. You have a girlfriend.

But all thoughts of my girlfriend drained out of my head when I saw Feyre Archeron walk through the doors of the bar, looking for all the world like she’d been through hell and back today. My hand shot up, waving her over, before I realized what I was doing. Her facial expression shifted into something that might have been confusion before her eyes drooped back down. She looked exhausted.

“Rhysand,” she said coolly, sliding onto the barstool next to me.

I slid my drink toward her. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but it looks like you might need this.”

She looked at me, and for a second I worried that she’d take offense to what I said. But then she raised the glass in my direction and knocked back the knuckle’s length in all of two seconds.

“Another one,” she said roughly to the bartender. “And bring one for my friend as well.”

 I stared at her.

 “Long day. Very long,” was all she said.

 “Same.”

 Silence. I stared at the counter and she gazed at the shelves of alcohol behind the bar. Neither of us spoke until the bartender served us fresh whiskeys.

 “I didn’t expect to run into you today,” Feyre commented after she’d taken another sip.

 “The same could be said for me, as well. Uh, about you, I mean,” I added. I wasn’t making sense. But Feyre smiled a little. If my idiocy could make her happy, I’d gladly make an idiot of myself anytime she wanted.

 “I was so--” she started.

 “I’m glad you--” I fell silent.

 “You first,” she conceded.

 “I was going to say that I was glad to hear from you today. It’s been a while since we last talked. I mean, I haven’t really seen you since. . .”

 “That night.” She bit her lip.

 More silence. I was pretty sure I was going to die. The probability of our friendship surviving didn’t seem high at this point. I had just resolved myself to sitting there in an awkward quiet until one of us finished our drink when Feyre spoke.

 “I thought you hated me,” she said quietly.

I almost gave myself whiplash turning to look at her face.

“You thought what?”

“You didn’t reach out after everything happened! I figured you hated me because of what Tamlin did to you. I broke the engagement off, by the way,” she added, flashing her bare wedding finger.

“I noticed.” Her brows rose but I plunged on. “And I don’t hate you. That’s crazy. I thought you hated me for being the reason you had to call the engagement off, or something. That’s why I kept waiting for you to take the initiative.”

Feyre rested her forehead on the bar in front of her. “Fuck,” she whispered. “I’m such an idiot.”

It was probably stupid, but I stretched out an arm and rested a hand on her back. “You’re not an idiot. We were both confused. Everything that happened that week was kind of crazy. Like something out of a movie. Not real life.”

She twisted a little to look at me from her position on the countertop. “You’re right. You’re right. I can’t believe we went this long without just working it out. I’m really. . .” She swallowed, chewing on her lip. “I’m really grateful to have you as a friend. And not just because our situations are similar.”

Warmth spread through my chest and I struggled to respond. “For my part, I’m really sorry, Feyre. I want to just forget everything that happened and start over.”

She closed her eyes. “I’m sorry too. For my part, and Tamlin’s. I hope we can go back to being friends-slash-single-parent-meeting-ditchers again. That would really make this crappy day just a little bit better.”

“I think that can be arranged,” I said softly.

Almost as if of its own accord, my hand started rubbing slowly up and down her back. I didn’t want her to feel like this, to look like this. Defeated, exhausted, hopeless. Turning to alcohol to help her feel better about her problems. I wanted to fix it. To make it all go away. Even if I was glad that it had brought her back to me in this little bar near the high school.

Feyre’s drink lay forgotten on the countertop as my hand continued its movements on her back. I moved my hand up and down to the slow rhythm of the love song currently playing softly in the bar. I’d be content to sit here and continue to do this until Feyre felt like she could get back up again.

I heard a throat clear loudly behind me.

“Rhys?”

I froze, my hand stopped midway down Feyre’s back.

“What a coincidence! I guess the universe just wants us to work out our differences,” Amy’s voice shattered the forgiveness and peace of the last ten minutes. I removed my hand from Feyre’s back, now tensed beneath my fingers, my renewed friend’s eyes now squeezed tightly shut. She looked like she was in pain.

“Amy. Hey. I didn’t realize you’d be here.”

She glanced at Feyre, her lip curling as she did so. “Obviously not. Hello, Feyre. You’re the one with the darling children, correct?” She said the word “darling” as though she’d just swallowed something extremely sour.

“That’s me.”

I turned back around to find Feyre now sitting up, her back straightened, hair smoothed, and eyes bright. With irritation.

“Mmhm.” Amy returned her attention to me. “I’m so glad you’re here. I feel awful about whatever we were fighting about.” She took a step closer to me, so close I could feel the heat coming off her body, could smell her roses-and-wine scent. “Let’s make up.”

Before I could speak, she threw her arms around my shoulders, turning me in my barstool so that I faced her entirely, my back now to Feyre. Her lips crashed into mine, her tongue sliding between my lips a fraction of a second later. Startled, I sat there for a moment as she kissed me before I brought my hands up to rest on her hips. This was my girlfriend. The woman now sitting behind me was just a friend, even if I couldn’t stop thinking about Feyre as Amy’s lips moved on mine.

Amy’s nails scratched slightly at my neck almost at the same time she nipped at my lower lip with her teeth. I pulled back. “Ow.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” she simpered. 

I turned around to say something to Feyre, anything to apologize for the makeout session she must have just witnessed. But her chair was empty and her whiskey glass lay abandoned on the countertop, only half drunk.

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[their-misplaced-wings]

Okay but ACOMAF has still ruined other books for me.

[thelovelyreader]

Rhys teaching Feyre how to read. Rhys teaching Feyre how to read. How can you not love this High Lord?

[their-misplaced-wings]

It’s Not Your Fault - Mor x Azriel fic, pt 2.

Part 1.

After a moment passed he sighed, “did I hurt you?” his voice barely a whisper. When the nightmares were bad he lost control of his power, his body lashing out at the demons his brain invented. The only times Cassian tried to wake Azriel from nightmares he’d woken the next day with bruises up and down his arms.  

“Shh. No, Az, of course not. I’m fine. Please, just relax,” she said softly. “You could never hurt me,” she added as she brushed her thumb against his cheek. He swallowed to keep his lip from trembling; he knew too well that she would lie to save him from guilt. His eyes roamed over her face, then the rest of her body, making sure there were no signs of harm. Other than a few healing scrapes from their encounter with Hybern and the Culdron, she seemed concerned but unharmed.

Noticing his assessment she let out a forced laugh, “not taking my word for it?” She pulled her hand from his cheek, shifted onto her knees, and motioned for Azriel to sit up. His elbows shook but he managed to get into a sitting position facing her. Mor extended her arms between them, rolling them over so he could be sure that she was unharmed. He let his shoulders slouch a bit in relief, but an ancient fear still haunted his face.

Mor gently grabbed his face, cupping each hand around his jaw line, and made him look into her eyes. It was only a dream, Azriel, she said silently. She held his gaze for a few breaths, until her heart was fractured by the pain she saw buried so deep within those hazel eyes. The pain that he tried so hard to keep hidden from the world. The others suspected that he was haunted, but none dared question his quiet reserve. They all respected each other’s decisions. Only Mor could not help but see him--see past every shield and mask he put up each day. The moonlight through the window brought out the green in his eyes. Mor had to lower her hands to keep from tracing the lines of his face, his lips, but she kept his gaze.

I could feel the flames…eating holes through my wings, where those arrows pierced Cassian’s. A tear threatened to form but he quickly blinked it away. He shifted his focus elsewhere, out to the stars in the distance. He was always sure not to reveal too much--always protecting her from his emotions. Not that he could ever truly hide from her. Not that he wanted to hide from her. But she deserved the world, and all of the stars in the sky, and what did he possibly have to offer her? The monster. The bastard. The broken boy with a life of nightmares and shadows?

“Please stop that,” she pleaded, her voice barely a whisper. She could see every thought pass over his face. She took his scared hands into hers, making him look back at her again, ensuring that he heard and understood the meaning behind every word. “You are not a monster, Azriel. You never were, and you are so very much more than those pieces of filth could ever dream to become.” She snarled at the memory of what Azriel’s family had done.

He took her distraction as a chance to politely pull away, to look away to keep from breaking entirely. Mor gave him space but kept speaking. “You are Azriel; Spymaster, warrior, and Shadowsinger of the Night Court. You are my friend, and-” her voice wavered on the last word. For centuries, they had silently agreed to secretly love each other, but nothing more. She wouldn’t comprise that, she would not pressure Azriel, she could not compromise their friendship. She gathered her composure for him, “and I know that it is hard to not listen to their words. To believe that you are not what they made you believe.” She swore and went to stand, needing to pace.

“Mor.” Azriel said, his voice firm as he reached for her hand, stopping her before her legs hit the ground. She looked back at him, settling back onto the bed. His head was bowed, but he squeezed her fingers. She waited for him to continue. If this was what he needed, her here with him she would sit for days. Slowly, he raised his head enough to look at her through his messy, dark hair. “Thank you,” he breathed as he let himself collapse, face first, into her lap.

Mor fought a smile as she adjusted, making room for his wings and positioning a pillow between her and the wall. She let herself run a hand through his hair while he fell asleep. “You’re welcome, Az.” She sat for hours, listening to his breathing, until he rolled off of her legs and onto a pillow. The sun was just creeping over the mountains as she left Azriel, peaceful and lightly snoring.