Nessian, please! “I’m broken and tired, and it’s your fault so please leave.”
I hope this is angsty as you were hoping it'd be!
WC: 3431
Written with @theladyofdeath. As always.
***
“I’m. Not. Going.”
Nesta Archeron sat on her bed, a book open on her lap, ignoring where her sisters stood at the end of her bed. They both stared at her.
“We’re not leaving you to sulk in the house,” Feyre said, turning to rifle through her eldest sister’s closet as Elain sat down on the edge of her bed. She pulled a gray dress out and tossed it at her on the bed. “So get up and let’s go.”
“I’m not sulking,” she bit out, her eyes going to where Feyre continued to put together an outfit she wasn’t going to wear. “But I don’t want to go out.”
She turned, a pair of black ankle boots hanging from her fingers. “You mean you don’t want to see—”
“I mean,” Nesta interrupted, her book closing with a snap, “that I want to stay home.”
“So you’re not sulking over Cassian?” Elain asked, gently.
Nesta didn’t reply.
“I’m going to take your silence as a yes, now put these on.” Feyre dropped the ankle boots by Nestas feet. “The party’s already started and you could use a drink.”
The only thing that Nesta hated more than Feyre’s pushiness was the pity in Elains eyes.
“If I agree to this, I don’t want you two meddling in my life again any time soon. Next weekend I will be right here, sitting on my ass in peace,” Nesta said, looking back and forth between her two sisters.
After a begrudging agreement, Nesta was putting on the dress and the boots and the jewelry that Feyre had picked out. Looking in the mirror, she knew she looked fantastic, but that confidence never reached her spirits. After the events of the past few days, the last thing Nesta wanted to do was be in a crowd full of people.
The last thing she wanted was to run into him.
“Ready?” Feyre asked, the second Nesta emerged from the bathroom.
Nesta said nothing as she grabbed her phone off her dresser and headed for the door.
They walked towards campus, towards the line of houses where people were filing into and spilling out of every door. Music was loud and heavy with every house they passed, as it was every Friday night on Greek Row.
“Where are we going?” Nesta asked as they passed the Kappa and Sigma houses. Neither of them answered and Nesta knew why a moment later, her eyes falling on the largest house at the end of the street. She stopped dead in her tracks, less than a hundred yards from the Alpha house. “Absolutely not.”
“Come on, Nesta,” said Elain, turning towards her with pleading eyes. “It will be fun.”
If it would have been Feyre, she would have said no. If it would have been Feyre who tugged on her hand and pulled her towards the house, she would have turned around and gone back to their own. If it were Feyre who found her a semi-cold, but mostly muggy beer, she would have refused it.
But it was Elain, and Nesta had never been able to refuse Elain.
The music was so loud in the house that Nesta could barely hear herself think. The lights were dimmed, with bright flashes of color blinding her every few seconds.
Nesta detested frat parties. She was usually only in attendance for one reason and she did her best not to look towards the staircase that led up to the bedrooms on the second floor. There were six in total, all housing the males who lived in the home and their larger than life personalities.
Looking around the house, she found four of them in various rooms, doing various activities around the house. Kallias was holding court at the beer pong table, Viviane leaning on the wall and talking to her own friends, while Helion was chatting up a handsome sophomore Nesta recognized from her pathology class. Azriel and Elain were snuggled up on the couch and Tarquin, she was fairly sure, she’d seen heading out to the back yard, where a pool was just about to be covered for winter. Only two were unaccounted for, and since Feyre had gone missing, she could only assume she and Rhys had already snuck off to his bedroom.
Which only left the one.
Had he known she would be here? It wasn’t like him to miss a party. In fact, he was typically the one downing drinks and playing games and standing on furniture that shouldn’t be stood on. He was the life of the party, the life of every room he walked into. Not tonight, though. Tonight, as Nesta made her way further into the chaos, Cassian was nowhere to be found.
“Looking for someone?”
Nesta had just poured herself another drink as she turned around and found herself staring into Helion’s humored gaze. “No.”
“So cold,” he crooned. “And here I thought we were finally becoming friends.”
Nesta didn’t answer. She made a move to go around him, but the second she had started walking, he was right beside her.
“He’s upstairs.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“No, but you wanted to know the answer, I’m sure.”
Nesta stopped and spun towards him, drink sloshing and eyes ablaze. “Don't you have better things to do than bother me?”
His grin widened as he winked and slowly walked away, grabbing a stunning junior by the waist and whispering something into her ear that made her blush.
Nesta glowered, trying to find something else, anyone else to occupy her time. She should have known her traitorous sisters would abandon her the second they arrived, but she hadn’t thought she’d be…alone.
Sighing, she looked around the party looking for another familiar face. They were plenty of attractive men looking her way, but just because she and Cassian weren’t speaking right now didn’t meant she wanted to—
Nesta gasped as something cold poured down her back.She’d been standing by one of the many bars around the house, where a couple had begun very aggressively making out. An errant elbow had knocked one of their drinks off the ledge, and right down Nesta’s back. Jumping away from the bar, Nesta swore, trying to turn and see the damage.
She was sticky and reeked of booze, regardless of only consuming two drinks.
“So— Sorry,” the guy, the less drunk of the two, stammered, eyes wide as he beheld the ire in her stormy gaze. Biting the inside of her cheek to keep from saying something she’d regret, Nesta turned, grabbing her drink as she did, and headed for the stairs.
Indeed, there was a muffled thudding that came from Rhysand’s room at the top of the stairs, nearly drowned out by the music blaring from below. She just cringed and moved past it, heading for the second door on the left. Gritting her teeth, Nesta paused before the door, wondering if Viv may have something in Kallias’ she could borrow to walk home.
Because she wasn’t staying. There was no reason, if her sisters had both been commandeered by their boyfriends and her own was… She didn’t let herself finish the thought, shook her head. She hadn’t seen Amren or Gwyn around anywhere, and she knew Emerie was likely over at Mor’s place.
So she’d go home. She’d get one of her t-shirts and a pair of leggings from her drawer of Cassian’s dresser, ignoring the man himself, and she’d go home, picking back up at the good part of her book her sisters had so rudely interrupted.
Taking a deep breath, Nesta knocked on the door. She waited but there was no reply.
Blinking, she tried again. No answer.
She knew she shouldn’t but Nesta tried the knob, just in case he was in there, that something was wrong—
It turned in her hand.
What if something wasn’t wrong? What if the reason he hadn’t been down in the party proper was because he was up here, with someone else? The thought had Nesta's blood running cold, but she pushed open the door regardless.
His bedroom was empty, a lone lamp turned on the nightstand, but his sheets were clearly mussed. Her heart lurched before she noticed the pause menu on the television, the door to his bathroom closed, light pouring out from beneath it.
Alone. He was alone, and though her anxiety released its grip on her heart, she knew he would have never had another girl up here. Even if they weren’t speaking, even if they were fighting, Cassian would never.
She hurried into his room, crossing to the dresser where one of the drawers kept countless changes of clothes. Grabbing out a pair of shorts from the top, she was digging through for a shirt when she heard the bathroom door open behind her and the heady scent of his body wash hit her.
His footsteps stopped but he said nothing. Nesta’s heart started racing a little bit faster and she suddenly felt like she was going to puke as she rose to her feet, the clothes in her grip.
She slowly turned to face him, only to find him standing with a locked jaw and his arms crossed. He didn’t look mad, not at all, but weary. She tried to ignore the fact that he was in nothing but a towel slung around his waist but such a fact was damn near impossible to ignore. Yet, her stare did not waver from his.
“I got a beer dumped on me,” Nesta said, just as Cassian said, “What’re you doing?”
They fell into silence once again and it was strange because the two of them were never silent with one another. Perhaps silence only came when there was far too much to say.
“My dress is wet,” she continued, quietly, shifting on her feet. “I just…needed something dry to walk home in. You didn’t answer your door-.”
“It’s fine,” he breathed, eyes trailing away from hers. “Wet clothes are the worst.” He stepped to the side. “You can change in the bathroom.”
Nesta wanted to say something, anything, but he walked to his bed and sat down, waiting for her to enter and shut the door. She did as she was told, letting it click shut behind her.
It was still muggy in the small bathroom, as if he’d just gotten out right as she’d entered his room. No wonder he hadn’t heard her knocking. She pulled the dress off, pausing to retrieve a wash cloth from under the sink and wipe down her back and legs. The ankle boots, leather, thankfully, could be salvaged, but she’d have to wash them off before she went to bed. After she stepped into the shorts, she pulled the shirt over her head, realizing too late that it was one of Cassian’s. She groaned, but didn’t feel like putting the dress back on to get one of her own. Instead, she piled her hair into a bun on top of her head and opened the door.
He was still sitting in the same spot, but his towel hung on the back of the door she’d just opened and he wore a pair of basketball shorts. Nesta could see the waistband of his boxer-briefs beneath. His controller was in his hand and he was focused on the television opposite his bed.
His chest was still exposed and Nesta could see every inch of those glorious tattoos across of his muscled torso. His eyes met hers and she realized she’d been staring.
She quickly looked away and cleared her throat. “Sorry. I’ll…let you be.”
He said nothing as she went towards the door and reached for the knob. She had just turned it, her stuff bundled up in her arms, when he said, “Keep the shirt.”
Nesta froze and for some reason his comment pissed her off. She had no idea why. It was a perfectly logical comment. Yet, something in his tone, something in those words sounded…definite.
If she kept his shirt, there would be no reason to come back here, to his room, to him.
Her hand dropped and she turned to face him. He still clutched his controller, but his eyes were not on the screen. They rested on her, cold, sad, hesitant.
“Fine,” she said, at last. Then, because she was unable to stop herself, she asked, “Anything else you’d like to give me so that I don’t have to make a trip back?”
Cassian let out a humorless laugh. “You’re unbelievable. You would take a nice gesture and-.”
“A nice gesture?” she repeated. “A week ago, what’s yours was mine and now, I can keep the shirt?”
“Fine. Don’t keep the shirt,” he said, voice low, his grip on the controller tightening. “Bring it back when you’re done getting drinks spilled on you by drunk pricks trying to get up on you on the dancefloor.”
“Still jealous,” Nesta said, shaking her head. “Of course. Too bad you have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Weren’t you just letting yourself out?” he snapped, that cool, calm demeanor fading.
“You’re an asshole,” she replied, fully turning away from the door, back towards him. He set his controller down and stood, crossing his arms over his chest. A position of dominance, of power. She went on. “Don’t get pissy with me because I’m out having fun while you’ve been pouting in your room for three days.”
She had no clue what he’d been doing since they’d last spoken and he didn’t need to know that she was miserable. But from the way he flinched slightly, she knew she’d spoken true.
Cassian scoffed. “I’m broken and tired, and it’s your fault so please leave.”
Nesta blinked.
Broken.
She took a step towards him. “Cass—”
“Go,” he repeated, sitting back on the bed and grabbing the controller. “You made your feelings perfectly clear on a future with me the other night, so I don’t see why we should bother wasting anymore of each other’s time when—”
“What do you mean a future with you?” She asked, aggravated. “I never said I couldn’t see a future with you, you’re my boyfriend.”
“Then why won’t you move in with me?” He asked, tossing the controller to the side.
“Because we’ve only been dating for six months!”
“So what?” he asked, voice raising. “Is there a timeline on moving in together that I was never told?”
“More than six months!” Nesta shot back. “Six months is nothing!”
“Six months is nothing?” Cassian repeated, his eyes growing darker and darker. “Well, shit-.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Nesta interrupted, exasperated. “I just meant-.”
“I know what you meant,” Cassian said, although his tone told Nesta that he really didn’t. He was pissed, mad at her, and he would let that anger control his tongue, as he always had.
“Do you?” Nesta asked, crossing her arms. “Because you seem to be acting pretty immature about this whole situation.”
“I’m not being immature, Nesta,” he said, and it was one of the few times that he actually said her entire name. Nesta. Not Nes, not any of the little pet names she had gotten so used to from him. He said her name like a stranger saying it for the first time. “I’m saying what you’re too afraid to. If you can’t see a future with me, I can’t keep doing whatever the hell it is that we’ve been doing for the last six months.”
Nesta began rubbing her temples. “You’re a stubborn pain in the ass.”
The thumping of the bass beneath them was a steady thrum. She wondered how he could stand it.
And then, she realized, he couldn’t. He’d asked her if she’d want to get an apartment with him, to move in together. Because he wanted out. The 24/7 party scene no longer appealed when he would rather spend what free time he had with her.
Her voice was thick when she spoke again. “Cassian.” He still wouldn’t look at her. “I’m sorry.”
That drew his eye.
He looked at her for a moment with a hint of surprise and doubt, surely trying to work out if she was being genuine or not. I’m sorry was not something that typically came out of Nesta’s mouth, no matter the circumstances.
“I didn’t say no because I don’t love you, Cass,” she went on, her voice quieter. “You know that I do. At least, by now, I would hope that you know that.”
Cassian said nothing, but he didn’t look away from her. There was something in the look on his face, though, that had Nesta setting down her stuff and walking to his bed, sitting down next to him.
“Then why did you say no?” He asked, shaking his head and turning towards her.
She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She’d been working this out for herself over the past few days, finding the reason that she froze when he asked her to get an apartment together, why she’d run from him and left him in that restaurant by the Sidra. “Right now, when I get to be…too much, one of us can just…go home. If we move in together, if you get sick of me, there will be nowhere to go. One of us will have to leave and I—”
“When you get to be too much?” He asked, cutting her off. “If I get sick of you?”
“Yes,” she bit out, not looking at him. “It would be humiliating if you had to come back here for a break and—”
Nesta’s words were cut off as Cassian’s lips found hers. She melted into the kiss, melted into him, into his taste and feel and smell. He gripped her chin and pulled her face from his, saying, “I never need a break from you. I love you. I want to spend every minute with you.”
Nesta hesitated, even as she relaxed in his touch. “It’s a big step. A huge step. You may think that now but-.”
“I know you think I’m impulsive, but I would never ask something of you like that that I’ve not completely thought through,” Cassian breathed. “I love you and I want to be with you. I want to build a life with you. You are my future.” He paused only to see the tears shining in her eyes. “With that being said, Nes, if you’re not ready, it’s okay. I just…need to know that one day you will be ready for that.”
She didn’t even have to think about it. “Of course I will be, I am now. It’s just..” Sighing, she knew what she was about to say was going to sound like an excuse. “My lease won’t be up for another three months and I can’t just leave Feyre and Elain to cover my ass.”
A lie. It sounded like such a lie, and Nesta hung her head, waited for him to call her out on it.
“Then we can wait until your lease is up.”
Her head snapped up and he was looking at her with a light in his eyes that it took her breath away. He had a wry smile on his face, “If you think nine months is safe on your timeline for moving in together.”
She laughed, and he reached out to wipe a tear from her cheeks. She hadn’t even realized she’d been crying. She also reached up, brushing her thumb over his lips. “We can start looking, until then, for a place together. See what our options are.”
“As long as it’s not here, as long as it’s quiet and it’s with you,” he replied, leaning down and brushing his lips against hers, “it’ll be perfect.”
Nesta swallowed hard. “I missed you,” she breathed, resting her forehead against his. “The past three days have been—”
“Shit,'' he finished for her, gathering her up in his lap, his lips finding her neck. “They’ve been shit,” he repeated.
“We can go downstairs if you want,” she offered, dirty dress be damned. “Have some fun.”
Without any warning, Cassian turned and she was on her back, gazing up at him. His hair hung loosely around his face, curling at the ends. He was so handsome that it took her breath away. He grinned down at her. “I have zero intentions on going down stairs, but I’ve got a pretty good idea on how we can have some fun.”
Nesta’s laughter turned into moans that the music below drowned out as Cassian made love to her into the night.
Summary: After a series of tragic events, Bryce is forced to raise her daughter alone until her ex and father of her child, Hunt, gets discharged from the military. When he comes back to town, Bryce finds that the past cannot simply be forgotten.
Warnings: Mature content throughout. Language, sex, drinking, etc.
Written with @snelbz
~ then ~
Bryce looked around Hunt’s bedroom and frowned. It was so empty, nearly cleared of his presence entirely. Micah would be moving once Hunt left, so everything Hunt would be leaving behind had been donated to the local thrift stores.
All that was left was a bed and the desk in the corner.
She was amazed how much life could change in just a week's time. The week before, graduation had come and it had been the most joyous of occasions. They’d walked across the stage and gotten their diplomas before tossing their caps into the air and promising themselves that the future would be brighter.
They had spent every waking moment of that past week together only to bring them here, to this moment.
“Is it too late to ask you not to go?” She asked, quietly, sitting on his mattress.
He chuckled, but there was no joy in the sound. No happiness. “I’m afraid so.”
It was too late the second he signed the paperwork, but it was a plan he’d always had for his life. He hadn’t felt like he had belonged anywhere he went. But he knew the military could help with that, would help with that, giving him purpose and something to strive to achieve.
But it was the plan and it wasn’t one he ever intended to give up, no matter how many times Bryce begged him to. He sat next to her in the bed, wrapping his arm around her, pulling her close. She went willingly, burying her face in his neck.
“You’ll call me as often as you can, right?” She whispered, and Hunt pretended he couldn’t hear the tears in her voice.
“Of course,” he said, but she knew that he had as little idea as she did how often that would be.
“I love you,” she breathed.
Hunt looked down at her and lifted her chin with his finger. Their eyes met.
“I love you, too,” he promised. “That will never change. Alright? I’ll come back. I'm coming back to you.”
She nodded and he wiped her tears away before leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips.
“How much time do we have?” She asked, forehead pressed against his.
“Enough,” he said, and kissed her again, pushing her back against the bare bed.
They made love and it had been different than it ever had before. It was gentle, but not gentle in the sense that suggested fear of any kind. No- they had known each other better than they had ever known anyone else, had ever known another living soul. It had been gentle in the sense that they had taken their time. Hunt’s hands held Bryce’s as he thrust his hips into hers, slowly, praising her name as they did so. He kissed her, softly, his lips sending praises and promises that he swore he would live up to.
She hadn’t been his first but she had been his only. No one before Bryce mattered. From the moment he had met her he had been captivated, heart and soul. Hunt imagined it would be like that until the day he made his way into the afterlife.
When they were done, Bryce laid in his arms, not daring to move. Once she moved, it was done. Once she moved, it was over. Once she moved, time would begin again and the last hour would be nothing more than a memory.
Hunt would be leaving.
That was her reality.
And as the clock ticked by, that reality was becoming clearer and clearer.
“Hey,” he whispered, his arms still around her as they laid on the bare mattress, naked, tangled in each other’s arms.
“Hmm?” Bryce mumbled, eyes closed, afraid to open them.
“This doesn’t change anything. I hope you know that. Me leaving…it changes nothing.” His arms around her tightened.
A tear slid down Bryce’s freckled cheek. “I don’t know when I’ll see you again.”
“Absence is an illusion,” Hunt promised. “Just because I’m not here doesn’t mean that anything will change.”
It was a lie.
She knew it.
He knew it.
But neither of them would ever confess it.
“I’m going to call you every day,” she swore. “I’m going to write.”
“I’ll answer every chance I get,” he promised. “I’ll save every letter and write a longer one back.”
They stared at one another, neither of them saying a word. Then they rose and they dressed, making time to stop and kiss one another every few seconds.
Some would think them foolish. To those, they were just young lovers, neither of them truly knowing what was in store. But it was more than that. They both knew it. There was a bond between them that would never, could never, be broken. There was a tether that connected them, an invisible line that connected Bryce’s soul to his.
There was a time that she thought that line would never be broken, would never vanish.
Once they were dressed, Hunt took Bryce’s hand and led her down the stairs and out the front door. He put his bag in her backseat before sitting in the passenger seat of her little red car.
Bryce sat behind the wheel and closed her eyes, afraid to start the engine.
Once she took him to the bus station, there was no going back.
“No more putting it off, Quinlan,” he breathed, resting his hand on her thigh.
She nodded as she looked at the clock and saw he was right. If they didn’t leave now, he would miss his bus out of town. So Bryce turned the key, the engine roaring to life and backed out of the driveway.
Hunt didn’t try to hide the way his eyes welled up as they drove away from the only house he’d been able to call a home. Sure, things with Micah hadn’t always been great, but it was heaven compared to the last foster home he’d been in. So he’d been grateful to the man for welcoming him into his home, providing for him in the ways he did.
Next time he came back to Lunathion, whenever that was, he wouldn’t be coming back to this house. He was sure whatever family would be moving in would have a happy life. They deserved it.
But he wouldn’t let himself look at Bryce, thinking about the domestic, happy life they could have had, had he not signed his life away the day he turned eighteen. He was sure she was thinking the same thing, knew today was likely going to be harder on her than it was on him, so he stared out the window as they drew closer and closer to his final destination.
They pulled into the station parking lot and after Bryce put the car in park, they both just sat there for a minute. Hunt finally turned to her and took her hand, but she wouldn’t look at him. He watched as she closed her eyes, too slow for the tears that began to slide down her cheeks.
“I love you, Bryce,” he said, willing her to turn and look at him, to let him see those amber eyes he could get lost in for hours. “No matter how many miles apart we are, no matter how many days we have to go without speaking, never doubt that. I’ll be counting every single minute until I come back to you.”
She hung her head, unable to stop her quiet sob, and covered her face.
Hunt was out of the car and opening Bryce’s door a few seconds later. She unbuckled her seatbelt and let him pull her to her feet and into his arms.
Burying her face in his chest, Bryce cried softly, her arms going around his middle.
She breathed him in, burying herself in his scent. She tried her best to memorize it, afraid she would forget it the moment he was gone.
A moment that came too soon.
The bus pulled up and Hunt frowned and people began to load their luggage beneath. Bryce leaned back and caught his gaze.
He wiped away her tears.
She wiped away his.
They kissed, softly, quickly, and after one last hug Hunt was grabbing his bag out of the backseat and walking away.
……………………..
It had been the longest ten weeks of Bryce’s life.
She’d barely gotten to talk to Hunt. One short phone call the week after he’d arrived in the Coronal Islands, and a few other letters they’d exchanged. Full immersion. Little to no contact with the people they know back home. That’s what the Asteri asked of the young men and women enlisting in their military.
Bryce had felt like she was going to explode by the end of those ten weeks. She had so much she needed to tell Hunt, so much had happened. Their letters had been brief, mostly just a check in to make sure the other was still alive and to tell them how much they loved and missed them.
Hunt’s most recent letter had a piece of new information his others hadn’t. He’d already received his orders for after basic and would fill her in when he called her at seven o’clock on the eighteenth of August.
Which was in two minutes, and Bryce had been pacing the apartment she and Danika shared right off of CCU’s campus, staring at her phone while she chewed on her thumbnail.
There’d been a sudden change in plans in the middle of the summer and the dorm room they’d been planning on sharing was no longer an option, so they’d gotten an apartment not even a block from campus, one that was a bit outside of what Bryce could afford, but Danika’s healthy trust fund helped balance things out for them. She told Danika she’d pay her back as soon as she got her “big girl job”. Danika was having none of it.
Bryce couldn’t wait to see Hunt, to hug him, smell him, feel his arms around her. She’d missed him so much the past ten weeks that it often felt like a physical pain inside of her, like a piece of her was missing. She had no clue where his orders were sending him, likely to the Pangeran front. The thought alone made her sick to her stomach, but he would hopefully be home for a week or two before having to deploy.
She crossed her fingers knowing that was the best case scenario.
One minute passed.
Then another.
Bryce sat on the couch and stared at her phone, afraid she would miss it. She wouldn’t, though. She had great service in her apartment and a full charge. Now she just needed him to call.
Another minute passed.
She frowned.
Maybe something had happened. Maybe something had come up, something had changed since his last letter. Maybe-.
Her phone rang and she nearly burst into tears out of relief as she answered. “Hello? Hunt?”
She knew he was smiling when he said, “Hey, sweetheart.”
She choked on a sob as she fell back onto the couch. “Oh, gods, I miss you. How much time do we have?”
“About ten minutes,” he said. “I wish it was longer, but-.”
“I don’t care, I’ll take ten minutes,” Bryce said. “I’m so happy to hear your voice.”
“I’m so happy to hear yours,” he confessed. “I miss you, Quinlan. There’s not been a minute that’s gone by that I haven’t thought about you.”
She wanted to tell him the same, wanted to let him know how she’d missed him for every single minute he’d been gone, but he knew that. She didn’t need to tell him that. Especially if they only had ten minutes.
Instead, she wanted to make him laugh. “Did you have a funeral and say a few words for your hair?”
He snorted and she knew she’d hit the mark. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
It was one of the off handed remarks he’d murmured to himself in his last few days in Lunathion. They’d been sitting on the banks of the Istros, having just had a picnic and were currently enjoying the sunshine of the summer day, Hunt’s head resting in Bryce’s lap. She was running her finger through the silken strands and he sighed with his eyes closed.
“I’m going to miss my hair.”
She’d thrown her head back and laughed and he’d pouted like a petulant child.
She laughed softly, the sarcastic tone like a balm to her heart. She’d missed him, everything about Hunt, she’d missed. “When will I see you?”
There was a beat of silence on the other line. “About that… Bryce, I won’t be coming home after basic.” Her heart fell into her stomach. No… “I’m going to Ydra next week and then onto Pangera from there.”
For a moment, she said nothing. There wasn’t anything to say as the one thing she had been looking forward to faded away into nothingness.
This ruined everything.
He was going to come home and she would hold him in her arms once more before he was sent into battle. She had so much to tell him, so much she needed to tell him in those few days.
Now those few days no longer existed.
“Bryce,” he breathed. “I’m sorry. It’s outside of my control.”
“I know,” she said, even though her voice broke as she did so.
“After I get to Pangera, though, I hope I’ll be able to call more. There’s supposed to be a phone I can use. And I should be home just after the new year for a weekend.”
A weekend.
One year away and that’s all she would get. If he wasn’t killed in action before then. The thought made her nauseous, made her mouth start moving before she knew what she was doing.
“Hunt,” Bryce began, quietly, wiping angrily at her face. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
There was a pause on his end. “Okay.”
“I wanted to tell you when you were home, before you left again, but now…”
Her words faded but he waited patiently. At least, he was patient until she didn’t continue.
“Is everything okay?” He asked, and it was fear in his voice.
“You— Hunt, I—.”
Danika’s cheery voice filled the apartment as she opened the door, letting Bryce know she was home. She couldn’t see Bruce from where she was in the entryway, and blessedly, she went straight to her room, didn’t see Bryce on the couch, fighting back tears as she tried to get the words out.
Nothing had really changed with his news, Hunt wouldn’t be home regardless. She was still going to be on her own, still wouldn’t have him with her. It just would have—
“Bryce, you’re scaring me,” he said, his voice tight on the other end of the line. “What’s wrong?”
She heard Danika’s shower turn on and knew she would be meeting Baxian for dinner in just a bit, that she would be alone once again. As she would be for the foreseeable future, it seemed.
The words were stuck in her throat, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get them out. She’d prepared a whole pretty speech, wanting him to know how much she loved him, how excited she was. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and-
Hunt’s voice was strained as he said, “Bryce, please.”
“I’m pregnant,” she blurted, forgetting all the lovely words she’d rehearsed all day.
She wasn’t sure how long he was silent. It could’ve been a few seconds or a minute or maybe two, but she let him process it however long he needed to.
“With a baby?“ he asked, at last. “With my baby?”
Fury suddenly settled in the pit of Bryce’s stomach. “What do you mean your baby? Who else’s baby would it be?”
“No, that’s not what I meant, I just…” Hunt began, a sound between a cry and a laugh bubbling out of him. “I didn’t mean it that way, but, I mean, I just…you’re pregnant?”
“I’m pregnant,” she confirmed, and she couldn’t help a quiet laugh of her own. “I found out right after you left.”
“You’ve known this whole time?” He asked, and she could picture his glorious grin in her mind. He cursed. “You’re pregnant.”
“I’m pregnant.”
“We’re having a baby.”
“Yeah, Hunt, we’re having a baby.”
He took a shuddering breath. She knew he was crying when he asked his next question. “When are you due?”
“Just after the new year,” she said, smiling softly. “Maybe she’ll be here by the time you come visit.”
His silence was heavier this time. His voice was thick when he replied. “She… It’s a girl?”
Bryce took a moment to look down at the small bump becoming more and more visible every day. She rubbed a loving hand over it. “It’s a girl. I had my appointment last week.”
“How far along are you?”
She could see him doing mental math. He had never been great with numbers, but she knew he was furiously counting the weeks since he left.
“Fourteen and a half,” she said, the information fresh in her mind. “It was—.”
“Fucking prom night,” he sighed, but she could hear the laughter in his words. “Guess we should have used a condom.”
“No going back now,” she joked, and he laughed before they fell into a comfortable silence.
“I love you.” Bryce smiled as she heard the truth in Hunt’s words. “Are you—are you scared?”
She laughed, somewhat hysterically, and admitted, “I’m terrified. Mom wants me to move to Nidaros.”
The other side of the line was quiet for a moment before Hunt breathed, “Your dad is going to kill me.”
She shook her head and scoffed. “Einar isn’t-.”
“I don’t give a shit about Einar,” he interrupted and Bryce laughed as she realized what he meant.
“Randall would like to speak with you next time you’re home,” she said, regretting the words as soon as they were out of her mouth.
Whenever that will be, was what she wanted to add, but couldn’t.
Hunt must’ve understood because he went quiet, too. “I am coming back, Quinlan.”
“I know,” she said, a little too quickly.
“Athalar, times up.” As soon as Bryce heard the words from the background on the other end of the line, her heart stopped beating.
“When will I hear from you again?” Bryce asked, quietly.
“As soon as I get to Pangera, I’ll call,” he promised. “There will be a computer at the base. I’ll video chat. I can’t wait to see your face.”
Bryce opened her mouth to respond but she felt like something was stuck in her throat.
“Come on, Athalar, we have calls to make-.”
“Give me a second,” he snapped at whoever was hounding him. At Bryce, his voice softened. “I love you.”
“I love you,” Bryce whispered, the tears streaming freely down her cheeks.
“I have to go,” he said, but it sounded like that was the last thing he wanted to do.
A/N: Tara and I have both been crazy busy this month, so we haven’t gotten to write as much as we’d like to have for @elrielmonth. This doesn’t go along with any of the specific weeks, but we can’t miss an opportunity to write about favorite babies. Enjoy.
NSFW. 18+ Only.
WC: 7244
Written with @theladyofdeath.
Azriel turned off the engine of his old, beat up Jeep and stared at the door of the bustling bar. As the clock on his dash neared 6:00, people all over Velaris were finishing up their workday and hoping for a little release.
Including himself, apparently.
It wasn’t the first time he had been asked to join his coworkers at the bar on the corner by their office, but it was the first time he’d accepted. Typically, the last thing he wanted to do at the end of the work day was socialize, but once Morrigan asked enough, she was hard to say no to. After a certain point, she no longer took no as an answer, which was how he found himself in the parking lot.
With a sigh, he hopped out of the car, having discarded his tie, releasing a few of his top buttons, and rolling up his dark sleeves.
His 9-to-5 wasn’t awful, but it sure as hell wasn’t how he planned to spend the rest of his life. He was amazing with anything and everything electronic, had been building and taking apart everything he could get his hands on from a young age. But working tech support had him asking Have you tried turning it off and back on again more times in one day than he ever thought he would have. It was a stepping stone to something bigger, something better. He just had to convince himself take that leap onto a bigger stone.
He could use a beer. Hell, he could use a shot. The bonus of his best friends working with him as well meant that both were likely sitting at the table waiting for him.
Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he pushed through the door of the dive bar. Looking around, he spotted Morrigan’s blonde head on the dance floor, but none of his other friends. He knew Cassian and Rhys would certainly be here, maybe Helion and Kallias if he were lucky, but—
“You actually came.”
He turned and found the real reason he’d finally relented and accepted the invitation standing in front of him. The reason why he hadn’t taken that leap to something bigger and better.
Elain Archeron was the epitome of feminine grace. Her pretty, pink dress didn’t seem like it belonged in the seedy bar, yet here she was, carrying what looked like a tray of—
“Is that Fireball?”
She laughed and shook her head. “It was Lucien’s idea and Cassian backed him up.” She pointed to one of the shot glasses up and looked at him. “And this one’s got your name on it.”
Azriel suppressed his smile as he said, “Well, I can’t say no to that, can I?”
Elain gestured for him to follow her, which he did without any hesitation. She led him to a table in the back corner where a big group of them sat, hollering once they saw that Azriel had finally joined them for their Friday night outing.
“It’s about damn time,” Cassian said, scooting over so that Azriel could sit next to him. After she set the tray down on the table, Elain sat next to him. Her knee bumped his, which he fully noted.
“Blame Mor,” Azriel muttered, taking the shot that had his name on it from the tray. “She’s relentless.”
Across from them, Rhysand looked at Mor on the dance floor as she spun around with her arms spread wide. “Already drunk is what she is,” Rhys laughed and raised his shot glass. “Thank fuck it’s Friday,” he said, as a toast.
The others raised their glasses and clinked them against one another’s. Azriel downed his shot, loving the burn as it went down his throat. It didn’t burn as much as it used to, Fireball, but he liked the taste more than most.
He turned his head just in time to watch Elain’s head fall back, liquid disappearing from her shot class as her eyes lit up. She swallowed and set the glass on the table before turning to meet Azriel’s eye. Her cheeks burned.
He found it endearing, how she seemed to get embarrassed from doing something as simple as taking a shot. Although, the fact that she kept a straight face had Azriel surprised and impressed, and wondering just what else he did not know that Elain was capable of.
“Look at you,” she said, resting her elbow on the table and propping her chin in her hand. “Out in the real world. I was starting to think you had a little bed hiding in that cubicle of yours and that you never left.”
Elain was the assistant to the office manager, so while he didn’t work with her as much as he’d like, he did see her in passing quite often. And, of course, when she or their boss’s computer decided to stop working.
It wasn’t his job, but whenever a pair of caramel eyes peeked over the top of his cubicle, he was powerless to tell her no. The issues he’d helped her with ranged from a piece of paper jammed in her printer to a mysterious virus that the boss had somehow downloaded.
He laughed, barely noticing their friends around them. “Not yet, but I might start keeping a sleeping bag under there, just in case.”
“Don’t do that,” she chuckled, shaking her head. Her hair, which she usually left down, loose and curled and pretty, had been piled on top of her head. Thanks to the heat of the bodies in the room, the short hairs at the nape of her neck had curled, and Azriel wanted to reach out and let one wrap around his finger.
Blinking, he realized how creepy that’d make him look and he cleared his throat.
The pitcher of beer was passed around and Azriel filled up his glass. As the hour passed on, he was surprised to find that he was enjoying himself. Most of that was due to the fact that Elain’s knee brushed his every few minutes. He swore that when it did, she would linger.
With three pitchers down, everyone went to the dance floor, all except Azriel and Elain, who remained seated. She shifted, and Azriel thought that she may want him to ask her to dance but dancing was so far out of his comfort zone that he asked something else entirely before she could take matters into her own hands.
“I’m going to step outside for a minute,” he said, words rushing from his mouth. “Care to join me?”
Elain looked around, sucking in her bottom lip as she noted each of their friends and coworkers out on the floor before turning back to Azriel and nodding. “Okay.”
They made their way through the busy bar together until they found the side door that led to the alley, rather than the packed patio around back. The second Azriel was outside, he pulled his cigarettes from a pocket and held them up. “Do you mind?”
Elain shook her head as the door closed behind her. “I didn’t know you smoked.”
Azriel hesitated, then laughed quietly as he searched his pocket for a lighter. “I guess we don’t know much about each other outside of the office.”
“I guess not,” Elain confirmed, watching as he patted all of his pockets. To his surprise, she opened the small clutch that was slung around her body and pulled out a lighter. She held it up and ignited a flame. “Need help?”
Azriel’s brows shot up but he said nothing as he put the cigarette between lips and leaned forward until it caught. In such a simple, short movement, they were close enough for him to smell the floral scent of her perfume.
Once she put it away and he took a long, peaceful drag, he asked, “What else do you have in there that will surprise me?”
The smile she gave him had him leaning against the opposite wall of the alley to keep him upright. “It’s not mine. I tend to be the carrier of everything no one wants to keep in their pockets while dancing. Thank Rhys.”
Azriel laughed, quietly. “Fair enough.”
“It’s nice, you know,” she said, and he tilted his head to the side, waiting. “Having you come out with us. I see Rhys and Cassian more than anyone else, thanks to Feyre and Nesta, but it’s nice to have you here with us.”
His throat was tight and it had nothing to do with the filthy habit he knew he needed to kick. He took another pull and blew the cloud of smoke away from her. The wind pulled it right back, and he cringed. “Sorry.”
“S’okay,” she said and shrugged her shoulder, leaning against the brick wall next to him. He was suddenly very aware of how dank and dirty the alley was and that she was in a very pretty dress. She didn’t belong out here, didn’t belong with him in his dark shirt and dark jeans and rebellious nose ring and tattoos. She was all that was good, while he was…not. But then she spoke and it caught him off guard. “What would you be doing, if you weren’t here?”
He blinked. He wasn’t sure where she’d been planning to take the conversation, but that surely wasn’t it. “In Velaris, you mean?”
Laughing, Elain looked up at the sky. The stars were phenomenal, even in this dingy alley. Her eyes were bright, taking in the beauty of the City of Starlight. She looked back at him and said, “I haven’t had nearly enough to drink to ask something that deep.”
“Then let’s get you another drink,” Azriel replied, dropping the remnant of the cigarette into a puddle of what he hoped was water, extinguishing it immediately.
“Wait,” she said, putting a hand on his arm. The slight touch rooted him in place. “What I meant is, if you weren’t out with us tonight, what would you be doing? What does a normal Friday night look like for Azriel Draeven?”
Azriel was so caught off guard by her touch that he huffed a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. He faced her fully, now aware of just how close he stood to her. She had to look up to keep her eyes locked with his.
“I don’t know,” he said, quietly. “Watch tv, play some video games, scroll on my phone.” He chuckled. “Have a drink and go to bed.”
Elain watched him for a moment, eyes bright. “That’s all?”
His eyes narrowed at her, trying to figure out if there was an underlying meaning to her question.
“What do you expect me to do at home?” He asked, well aware of the fact that her hand was still on his arm.
She shrugged again, an action that he usually thought was nonchalant, but from her, was just adorable. Looking up at him, she bit her lip. “Are those all things you usually do on your own or is there someone else you do it with?”
Her choice of words seemed to hit them both at the same time. Even in the watery light of the streetlamp at the end of the alley, Azriel could see the blush creeping up Elain’s cheeks and neck.
Choosing to ignore her unintended vernacular, he asked, “Are you asking if I have a girlfriend?”
“I guess I should learn to be more direct, huh,” Elain whispered, and Azriel’s grin spread.
He usually felt uncomfortable when he smiled but not around her. Around her, he felt worthy of smiling, of joy.
“No,” he said, at last. I’ve been waiting for someone, he nearly added, but didn’t. “And you? Anyone special?”
Elain’s hand finally fell from his arm as she shook her head. “No, no one. Not for a few months anyways.”
He nodded and took another step toward her as he asked, “Is there a reason for that?”
That crimson stain on her pale cheeks spread as she said, “Now it’s your turn to be direct, I think.”
Azriel was not known for being direct, for being outspoken. Out of all of the people in their friend group, Azriel was probably the most reserved.
He and Elain both.
Which is why he was grateful for the alcohol coursing through his body, liquid courage, as he asked, his voice low, “Can I kiss you?”
Elain’s breath hitched but she took a step closer, her palms lying flat against his chest, closing the space between them. Her eyes, bright and full of wonder, met his when she whispered, “Please.”
Azriel had had a long time to imagine what kissing Elain would be like. He’d imagined how her lips would feel, what she would taste like, how her hair would feel like silk as he threaded his fingers into it, cupping the back of her head. As he leaned down, his thumb brushing over her cheekbone, he knew his imagination would never stand a chance.
His lips met hers and he couldn’t have ignored the soft, sharp inhale as Elain gasped. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her tighter against him as her hands dove into his own hair. Without even realizing it, he’d backed her up until her back was pressed against the brick wall. He traced the seam of her lips, asking for entrance. She opened for him, but then nipped at his bottom lip.
When Azriel pulled back, her eyes were bright, full of life and joy and something else he couldn’t name.
“What were those things you like to do at home on a Friday night?” She breathed, fingers scratching lightly at his scalp. He was having a hard time comprehending her words.
“TV, video games, and a drink,” he said, forehead resting against hers.
Elain caught her bottom lip between her teeth, looking down at their feet before meeting his eyes again. “And all of that, would you like to do it with me?”
He was well aware that she was aware of her words from earlier. Of the callback she was making.
Azriel laughed, quietly. “I would happily do anything with you.”
Elain pulled his face into hers, her hands knotted into his now disheveled hair. His body fell against hers, and every logical thought that was in his mind had vanished for good as his palms braced the wall behind her.
Now that he’d had even the simplest of tastes, he could not keep his mouth off of her.
He hoisted her up, her legs going around his waist as her dress hitched up her thighs, her back still resting against the brick. When his kisses trailed down her neck and she tilted her face towards the sky to give him better access, she breathed, “I can think of a couple places that would be much more comfortable to do this.”
Pulling back, Azriel looked down into her face. Breath coming quickly, he asked, “Do you want me to stop?”
“No, no,” she replied, shaking her head. “But we could…go back to my place. Or yours, whichever you’d prefer.”
He blinked and then that broad grin was back on his face. “You’re getting better about that whole direct thing.”
Elain could feel her cheeks heating but Azriel put her down. “My apartment is only a couple blocks from here.” He reached up and brushed his thumb over her mouth. “Want to get out of here?
Her lips parted and she gently took his thumb between her teeth. Everything inside of him went molten at the light sting of pain. He hadn’t been expecting it or the soft brush of her tongue that followed it.
“Let me get my purse,” she breathed, after he’d pulled his hand back. “And tell Feyre and Nesta I’m leaving.”
“Are you going to tell them we’re leaving together?” He asked. She looked up at him.
His hazel eyes had gone impossible dark, the ring of browns and golds and greens nearly swallowed up by the blown out pupil. Lust was written along every line of his body. He wanted to touch her, to feel her skin against his.
Swallowing, Elain asked, “Do you want me to tell them?”
Azriel didn’t hesitate as he nodded. Hell yeah, he did. He wanted them all to know.
Her eyes lit up. “Good.”
She disappeared from sight and once Azriel caught his breath, he was hurrying to his jeep. After tossing the few empty water bottles from his passenger seat into the back, along with the lighter he couldn’t find earlier, he was pulling around to the front of the bar, waiting.
A few minutes passed and he grew anxious, afraid he had done something wrong between the first kiss and now, but then she was walking out the front door and coming straight for him.
She opened the door and fell inside, giggling as she looked at him. “Are you okay to drive?”
He nodded and said, “Just a few beers, plus it’s a short drive.”
She buckled her seatbelt and when she looked back up, they were sharing breath. His hand slid into her hair as he softly kissed her, sweeter than any of the kisses they’d shared so far.
Pulling away, he took a deep breath as he put the car in gear and pulled out onto the main road. His right hand left the wheel and rested on the inside of Elain’s knee. Her focus and every nerve ending seemed to center on the slow circle his finger was drawing on the skin there. There was a rough patch on the tip of each finger, aside from the brutal scarring he often tried to hide. She’d felt them twice now, the first time as he cradled her face in his hands and kissed. She cleared her throat. “What are your calluses from?”
His eyes left the road for a split second, not even realizing his hand had moved up her thigh, incrementally. He was looking back ahead of him, but his thumb squeezed her thigh in time with the circling. “Guitar. I’ve played for nearly fifteen years.”
“Wow,” she breathed, fully turning to face him in the passenger seat. “I had no idea.”
“Seems there’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he smirked, but added, “What’d your sisters say when you told them we were leaving together?”
Elain grinned as she turned towards the window. “Nesta’s exact words were, took you long enough. I won’t repeat Feyre’s. They were far too vulgar.”
Azriel was only intrigued more but before he could ask, Elain shifted and his hand slid further up her thigh. She leaned into it and suddenly, the five minute ride to his apartment was excruciating.
He could only imagine that her thoughts were running just as wild as his were. There were so many things he’d like to do to her, with her, but he tried not to get too ahead of himself.
She may want to take things slow, which he would if that’s what she wanted, without any complaints. Those thoughts, though, he couldn’t control.
Azriel pulled into his parking garage before finding a spot and putting his car in park. Once they were out they walked hand in hand into his building, up to his floor, and to his front door.
He had suddenly hoped it wasn’t too messy. Company was the last thing he had expected tonight, and he couldn’t remember exactly what it’d looked like when he stumbled out his door this morning, not having had his morning coffee.
Unlocking the door, he held it open for Elain, and braced himself as he flipped on the light. He wasn’t greeted by a mess, but there was the unmistakable sound of a bell chiming as it grew closer and closer. A sleek, smoky, grey cat poked its head around the corner and gave one mew! of excitement before prancing towards Azriel.
“You have a cat,” Elain beamed, bending down and holding a hand out for the creature to smell.
“This is Jeremy,” Azriel replied as the cat deemed Elain a friend and rubbed his head into her palm.
Her laughter was like windchimes on a spring morning. “Jeremy?”
“Yeah,” he replied, scratching at the back of his neck. “They asked me what I wanted to name and I sort of just blanked. So I went with Jeremy.”
Elain’s laughter was the cutest thing he’d ever heard. Tiny snort included.
Her eyes went wide and she covered her mouth, blushing, and stood. “Oh, my god, I’m so sorry.”
“You should be,” Azriel joked, scratching the cat behind his ears. “Jeremy doesn’t like to be laughed at.”
Elain’s laughter died down but it still laced her tone when she took a deep breath and said, smile blindingly brilliant, “I’m sorry, Jeremy. What other surprises am I going to find in here?”
Azriel gestured to the entryway they stood in - an open concept where they could see everything but his bedroom and bathroom down the hall. “Take a look around while I make you a drink?”
Elain’s grin softened as she nodded and began her waltz around the room. Azriel watched her tentatively while he walked behind the island and took two glasses from the cabinet, filling them each with whiskey - it was all he had.
Judging by how she handled Fireball, Azriel wasn’t worried.
When he looked up again, Elain was nowhere to be found but he came around the corner to find her near the start of the hallway, looking at his bookshelf that sat against the wall.
“Edgar Allan Poe fan?” Elain asked, fingers grazing a line of vintage collectors novels.
“A little bit,” he admitted, and was about to recite a cheesy quote when Elain started laughing quietly under her breath. She took a framed photo off the shelf of Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand in their sophomore year of high school.
“Who are these guys?” She asked, shaking her head. “You were such a cutie. I bet all the girls flocked to you.”
Azriel cringed as he handed her a glass, which she gladly took. “Yeah, I was more of a loner. Had my first girlfriend junior year and when it didn’t work out, there was just a long string of flings after that.”
“And is that still the case?” Elain asked, sipping from her glass. “Just flings?”
There it was again, that air of nonchalant that had Azriel wondering what she truly wanted to ask. He stared at her for a moment, her eyes lit with amusement, and Azriel decided that he liked Elain with a little bit of liquid courage running through her veins. They were far from drunk, but there was just enough for the playfulness to come out.
Azriel set his glass down on the bookshelf before stepping closer to her and leaning down to kiss her, slowly.
There was no rush. He wanted to take it slow, wanted to dwell in this moment with her.
His teeth bit into her lip, just hard enough for her to part her lips, allowing him to slant his mouth over hers. Elain’s tongue brushed along his and he had to fight the groan that overtook him as he shuddered. Her fingers were in his hair, pulling his mouth harder against hers. Azriel obliged. Her glass was long gone and he pushed her back until she bumped into the shelf, books and knickknacks and picture frames rattling with the force. His hands we’re wrapping around her ass, the curves tempting him more than he could even fathom, and lifted her, setting her atop the ledge. All of him was lined up with all of her. Only denim and a few layers of cotton separated them and Elain moaned as he ground the growing evidence of his need into her.
Azriel pulled back slightly, just enough to breathe, “Is that what you want this to be? Just a fling?”
Her caramel eyes were wide, wild, and she shook her head. “Not if that’s not what you want it to be.”
“Once I get a taste of you, I’m not going to be able to stop,” Azriel whispered, dragging his nose along the long column of her neck. “I’m going to want to have you over and over again.”
A chill swept up her spine and when his lips found her collarbone, Elain let out a soft moan. “Then have a taste.”
Azriel cursed, words muffled by her skin beneath his lips. When he leaned back, Elain’s eyes were wild, her cheeks flushed, her chest quickly rising and falling. She meant it. She meant every word, he could tell as a lone finger trailed down his chest and stopped at his belt. She went to start unbuckling, but Azriel grabbed her wrists and pushed them back before falling to his knees before her. In acceptance, Elain spread her legs wider and then Azriel was hiking up the skirt of her dress.
She wore lilac lace panties that were already soaked. Before he pulled them slowly down her legs, he ran his thumb down her covered sex. The feeling of that alone had Elain gasping, scooting closer to the edge.
She was ready for him and Azriel loved the sight of it.
On his knees, he pulled down her thong and threw it aside without any care of where it would end up.
He traced her divide with a lone finger, letting it linger over her clit. He was gazing between her legs, staring. Elain felt the need to squirm, to make him look away, anywhere else. But that gaze was heavy and needy, like a starving man who’d been sat down in front of a feast.
“Beautiful.” His words were whisper soft and Elain could barely hear them over her own panting breaths. “The most exquisite thing I’ve ever seen.” Her heart skipped a beat and her cheeks heated at his unexpected praise.
She’d never had anyone call her sex beautiful before.
His thumb took the place of his finger, circling her clit slowly. As Elain’s breathing hitched, higher and higher, he slowly, gently pushed a finger inside of her.
Tight and hot and wet.
He slid another finger in and Azriel groaned as she clenched around him.
Suddenly, his fingers were gone and she forgot all about the tender words he’d whispered before. She forgot her name, who she was, as he wound his arms under her legs and gripped her by the thighs and dove right the hell in.
Azriel’s tongue plunged into her and the moan that Elain released was the most erotic, beautiful noise he’d ever heard. He licked her up and down before he set to lapping at her clit and his fingers returned to sliding deep.
Azriel looked up at her through his thick, dark lashes, admiring her raw and unfiltered beauty. Her head was tossed back, her mouth wide open, her entire body rigid as she absentmindedly, gently rocked her hips up into his mouth.
His lips sucked her clit between them, working in time with his tongue, and Elain let out a curse so filthy that he almost paused, having no idea such words lived inside of her vocabulary.
When her knees began to shake around his head, his fingers dug into her ass, holding her in place. The little moans coming from her mouth intensified and those sounds alone were nearly enough for Azriel to get off. She breathed his name and gasped as her fingers dove into his thick, tangled hair.
She came, and Azriel kept going, kept working his fingers, his tongue, his mouth until those little moans stopped, until his name no longer fell from her lips.
When he looked up, he slowly pulled his fingers out of her sex and put them into his mouth, licking them clean. Elain, panting heavily, watched in awe.
“What now?” She asked, legs still spread, dress still hiked up, baring her to him. Pink and pretty and gleaming with the evidence of her release. She was so wet for him, had been soaked before he’d even put his hands on her.
“Now?” He asked, bracing his arms on either side of her, caging her in. Had he always been so much bigger than her? He was all around her, consuming her every thought. Everything she saw, tasted, smelled, it was all Azriel.
“Now that you’ve had a taste,” she asked, tilting her head up, aching for his kiss. “What’s next?”
The devilish smile was the only warning she had before she was suddenly upside down, tossing her over his shoulder. Her laughter broke the tension as he carried her down the hall and opened a door, his hand firmly planted on her ass.
And then she was being tossed onto his bed, the expanse of rumpled grey sheets and soft black blankets warm and welcoming. Her fingers toyed with the soft fabric as Azriel crawled onto the bed and pressed a soft kiss to the inside of her knee and then farther up her thigh.
Instinct had her drawing both knees up, spreading her legs for him again. She hadn’t been expecting him to go down on her again, but she certainly wouldn’t complain about it. The orgasm had been earth shattering, one of the best she’d ever had. If he was this talented with his mouth, she couldn’t wait to see what he could do with other parts.
Those kisses trailed up, from one side to the other, and though he pressed one gentle, sweet kiss to her pussy, that was it. He didn’t stop to suck or bite or lick. Just the one kiss and then he’d continued on, kissing the top of her mound and each hip bone. His lips trailed higher, his hands pulling her dress up as well, until he gazed up at her as he reached her abdomen. “Can I take this off?” He asked, tugging at the dress.
“Only if you take off yours as well.” She was panting, her voice needy.
Him. She needed him.
Azriel saw that as an even compromise. He pulled himself off the bed and unbuttoned his shirt before slipping it off and dropping it to the floor. Elain pushed herself up onto her elbows as she watched him unbuckle his belt and kick off his pants. In nothing but his underwear, where his need was on full display, Azriel climbed back up over Elain, slipping her dress up as he went until it was over her head. She laid before him in nothing but her bra and Azriel’s hands freely explored every bare inch.
“You are so incredibly beautiful,” he whispered, his body fitting snugly against hers as he leaned down to kiss her softly.
Elain swallowed, hands trailing down his back. “I feel like I’m dreaming right now.”
“Is that a good thing?” He asked, his breath warm against her lips.
She nodded, the tips of her fingers disappearing beneath the band of his boxer briefs. He pulled back, giving her room between their bodies.
Azriel’s breath caught in his throat as she slipped her hand in and palmed him. He was frozen, not daring to move as he watched her hand move, obscured by the fabric and then he felt her hand wrap around his length.
She squeezed once, her fingers not quite able to touch each other, and Az’s head dropped into the
crook of her neck. He swore, voice husky and deep and it had Elain arching up into him.
She started to stroke him, slowly, and his lips found her neck, sucking and biting, teasing and taunting each other in the most sinful way.
“I want to see you.” Elain’s voice was desperate, pleading.
He couldn’t have denied her anything at that moment.
Azriel rolled to the side, begrudgingly losing the silken touch of her hand on him. He lifted his hips and removed his boxer briefs, tossing them to the side. As he was about to climb over her again, a hand pressed to his chest and pushed him back on the bed. He willingly laid down, eyes on her face. But she wasn’t looking at him.
She was looking at his cock. Staring, eyes wide, cheeks flushed.
Azriel didn’t dare speak, didn’t dare disrupt what was going on inside of her mind. He held his breath, watching, waiting until she took hold of him and slowly pumped once and then twice before leaning down. When she licked the tip of his cock, her eyes finally met his.
The display before him put to shame every dream he’d ever had of this exact moment.
Her mouth slid over his head and down his hardened length until she took in as much of him as she could. With her tongue sliding freely against him, her head began to bob, her hands joining in, one fisting his cock and the other cradling his balls.
Azriel’s head fell back against his pillows, one hand gripping his sheets and the other weaving its way into her long hair.
Every time she went down, a quiet noise came from the back of Azriel’s throat. He couldn’t help it. He didn’t care, either. He wanted to know all the sounds she could make him make.
Letting her hand take over for her mouth, she looked up at him. “Is this okay?”
Okay? It was better than okay, it was phenomenal, probably of the best head he’d ever had.
How was she the most adorable thing he’d ever seen, even while she played with his cock?
“Amazing,” he breathed.
She smiled then, looking so cute and sexy all at once and everything he’d ever let himself dream of.
Azriel couldn’t stop himself as he hauled her up the length of his body and crashed his lips against hers. Pulling away for a frantic breath, he whispered, “I need to be inside of you.”
Elain sat up, straddling his hips, reaching between them. His hands rested on her hips and he looked up at her.
“I can wear a condom, if you want.” He didn’t mind. He was clean, rarely went without one. But with her…
He didn’t know why, but he wanted her raw. Wanted to feel everything as her orgasm slammed into her and that delicious pussy came around him.
She shook her head. “I’m on the pill.”
There was silence for a moment, but then Azriel swallowed. “Okay.”
“Okay,” she repeated, voice soft.
Rising up on her knees, she gripped him, leading him to her center. Positioning him at her entrance, she placed her hands on his chest and sank down.
Azriel cursed, soft and vicious, fingers digging into the soft curves of her hips.
For a moment, she did nothing. When she was seated snugly upon him, her eyelids fluttered shut and she breathed, evenly, adjusting to his size, his length, inside of her. Then she began to rock, slowly, palms laid out flat against the ink on his chest. She sucked in her bottom lip and Azriel couldn’t stop staring.
It was erotic, sure, but it was also beautiful, so beautiful that Azriel didn’t think anything or anyone else would ever even compare to this moment, this vision of Elain, completely bare, slowly riding him in complete and utter ecstasy.
His hands moved along with her hips, not guiding, she had that covered. He could hear their ragged breaths in the quiet and stillness of his bedroom.
She felt so incredibly good.
And then her eyes opened.
Eyes that were bright with pleasure and ecstasy and something else he couldn’t name, yet knew was written across his own face. Her hips rose suddenly, rather than rocking, and when she dropped back down, they both gasped.
“Does that feel good?” He asked, reaching up and cupping the back of her head in his hand.
Elain nodded, leaning down towards him, still so full of his cock that words were impossible. His mouth was on hers as soon as she was close enough and he wrapped one of his strong arms around her waist.
He released her lips and breathed, “Do it again.”
She didn’t sit all the way up this time, just enough to lift her hips, but did as she was told. Again and again and again, until she was clawing at his chest, a moaning, quivering mess, right on the edge of release.
The hand that was still woven into her hair tightened, pulling her mouth back down to his, and he snapped his hips up into hers. She cried out, the sound muffled by the savage kiss, and he thrust up into her again, eliciting the same reaction. Only two more hard, deep thrusts was all it took.
Elain shattered around him, crying out as she did so, her nails digging into his skin to keep herself grounded.
Azriel continued to thrust himself up inside of her, a little slower, a little gentler each time until she was nothing more than a quivering pool lying against his chest.
He gave her a moment to breathe, gave her a moment to piece herself back together before he pulled on those beautiful golden-brown locks until she met his gaze.
“Fuck,” he breathed, and she had no words but she nodded in perfect agreement.
He was still buried deep inside of her when she sat up and pulled on his hips, not wanting him to take himself out for even a second. Azriel rolled them over until he was on top and framed her face in his hands before he kissed her.
It wasn’t hot and hungry like it had been before, but slow and sensual.
He kissed her until her hands left his chest, started roaming over his body. Kissed her until her legs wrapped around his waist, begging for more without having to say a word. Grinding his hips into hers, pushing her into the bed.
Wrenching her mouth from his, Elain moaned and Azriel’s kisses continued on her neck, her throat. He kissed down to the valley of her breasts, still contained in her bra, and he slid his scarred hands beneath her and unclasped it. As he sat up, giving her room, Elain removed her bra straps one by and tossed it aside, both of them completely bare to the other at last, his hard, thick cock still inside her.
She could have sworn she felt him throbbing deep inside as his eyes took in her breasts, hands cupping each. His mouth covered one, tongue swirling around her rosy, pink nipple, and sucked as he palmed the other. His teeth bit down and Elain moaned his name, the word tumbling from her lips like a prayer.
It snapped whatever tether he had on his restraint.
Sitting up on his knees, Azriel gripped Elain by the hips, pulling nearly all the way out, and slammed back in.
Elain cried out, her back bowing off the bed, not in pain, but overwhelming, all-consuming pleasure.
He set an unrelenting pace, fucking her as hard and deep as he could, watching as she fell to pieces beneath him. Elain gripped her breast with one hand, her other circling her clit frantically.
“You close, baby?” He asked, lips right by her ear. His voice was lower and deeper than she’d ever heard it. The sound of it and the unexpected use of a pet name alone nearly threw her over the edge, starlight and fireworks and ecstasy shimmering around her vision.
She met his gaze and nodded, reaching for him. Azriel covered her body with his, his mouth slanting over hers. His thrusts were relentless, driving home hard and fast and deep, and Elain’s release slammed into her. She moaned, loud and slow, and Azriel fell over the edge right alongside her, pulling out and spilling himself on the creamy skin of her stomach.
Azriel’s eyes nearly rolled back in his head, his body fully rigid as he came. Elain watched, chest heaving, utterly in awe of the sight before her. He was beautiful, and for a moment Elain thought that it was strange to think so. She had never thought that men were beautiful, at least not in the sense she felt when she looked at Azriel, just then, after making love to her so perfectly.
He collapsed onto her body, careful not to crush her as rested his forehead in the crook of her neck, but rolled them onto their sides. The softest of touches brushed along her arm, along the column of her neck until she squirmed.
Azriel’s fingers froze as he chuckled. “Ticklish, too? Look at all the things I’m learning about you tonight.”
His voice remained low, rough, tired but carefree. She smiled as she started running her fingertips up and down his muscular back. “I’m not ticklish,” she muttered, but they both knew it was a total lie.
They laid in contentment, both of them with their hands on one another as they caught their breaths.
Then they heard a growling, grumbling noise, and Azriel pulled back to look at Elain.
She was blushing, looking like she wanted to melt into the mattress.
“Hungry?” he asked, grinning down at her.
“I didn't get dinner,” she admitted, biting her lip. “Sorry, that was so loud.”
“You let me get inside of you,” Azriel teased, burying his face in her neck, biting the sensitive skin there. “You’ll moan my name as you cum, tear at my back, but you get embarrassed when your stomach growls a little too loudly post sex?”
“It’s not lady-like,” she laughed, playfully pushing him away.
He did as she bade him, rolling away from her and pressing a kiss to her forehead. He returned from the attached bathroom a minute later, a warm washcloth in his hand, still gloriously naked. Shamelessly, Elain watched as he approached, taking in every inch of sculpted muscle and inked skin. He smirked, not saying anything about her blatant ogling, but he hadn’t failed to notice the way her eyes caught on certain parts of his body, lingering just a longer than others. Azriel quietly cleaned her up, then tugged her to her feet, wrapping his arms around her. As he leaned down to kiss her, her stomach made another room-deafening growl and she buried her face into his bare chest as he began to laugh. Grabbing a t-shirt from his dresser, he pressed a kiss to her head. “Let’s get you something to eat before you decide to eat me.”
Elain took his shirt, which swallowed her as she put it on. She left him standing in the middle of his bedroom as she paused in the doorway to the hallway and the kitchen beyond, looking back at him. “Oh don’t worry. I’ll do that again later.”
Without another word, she padded towards the kitchen on bare feet.
His eyes darkened as he watched her go, long, tan legs tempting him from beneath his t-shirt.
When he’d decided to go out with his friends after work, this was the last thing Azriel had ever expected to happen. He’d left his comfort zone, taking a chance on a night of fun rather than spending another night home alone.
As he followed her into the kitchen, picking her up and setting her on the counter to watch as he made his infamous microwaved ramen, he was sure as hell glad that he had.
Summary: Cassian, a single father, tries online dating for a one night stand and gets more than he bargains for. Nesta, a former professional ballet dancer, opens her own studio in her new hometown of Velaris and finds that she knows one of her students’ fathers from a night of utter regret.
Warnings: Mature content throughout. Language, sex, drinking, etc. NSFW.
A collab with @theladyofdeath
It was nearly noon when Cassian got into his truck to go pick up Arya from Rhysand.
He was exhausted and slightly hungover, to say the least, but he wasn’t complaining. The night before had been different. Cassian had been with plenty of women, even after Arya’s mother, but none of them had held the same fire and authority that Nesta had when he’d fucked her the night before.
She had left right after they were done, had hardly said a word to him before she left, climbing into the Uber she’d called, but he knew that he had done his job well. Women couldn’t fake the reactions she’d had to him, to his size, to his masterwork. No, she had been pleased, beyond pleased, Cassian had no doubt.
He could still hear her cursing his name as her body shattered around him.
The sun was high in the sky and nearly blinding as Cassian pulled out of his parking garage and down Fifth Avenue. He was ready to see his daughter. Rhysand took her one night a month for a night of endless sugar and too many movies.
Usually he dropped her back off that night, but Rhys had agreed to keep her overnight so Cassian could go out, could bring someone home and fuck her without his four-year-old daughter sleeping on the other side of his bedroom wall.
She’d only had a handful of night’s away from home, but if Arya was with her Uncle Rhysie or Aunt Mor, he knew she was well taken care of.
Throwing his truck into park, he hopped out of the cab and hurried up the stairs. Cassian didn’t even pause to knock, just threw the door open and let himself in. He found Octonauts playing on the television, but no sign of his wild-hearted daughter anywhere-.
“Daddy!”
A tiny force slammed into his legs and she squeezed as hard as she could.
“Hi, sweetheart.” He leaned down and picked her up. She was still wearing her PJ’s, still had bed head. Cassian sniffed gently. And definitely still hadn’t brushed her teeth. “Did you have fun with Uncle Rhys?”
She nodded, still chewing on the piece of bacon in her hand. “Did you find my new mommy?”
Cassian’s head whipped around to Rhysand, who was standing in the entryway of his kitchen, shrugging. “What? Kid asks a lot of questions.”
“And that’s what you told her?” Cassian asked, shaking his head. He kissed Arya’s forehead. “No, honey, not yet.”
Arya didn’t seem to mind. She just shrugged and squirmed until Cassian put her down and she hurried off, back to her bacon. She didn’t remember her mother. Arya was just a baby when she passed. Yet, all of her little friends at preschool had a mother, so she knew the concept well.
“No new mommy?” Rhysand repeated, stepping into the living room.
Cassian kicked off his boots and plopped himself down on the couch. “No new mommy.”
“Considering you didn’t show up here last night, though, I assume something went well.”
Cassian grinned and looked to the kitchen to make sure Arya was out of earshot before he said, “Best sex I’ve had in a long time.”
Rhysand gave him a hum of approval before retrieving his coffee from the kitchen island and taking the seat on the other end of the couch. He, too, made sure his niece was in the other room before saying, “So what? You were telling us how gorgeous and perfect this girl was. Don’t get me wrong, you needed to get your dick wet, you’ve been an asshole since you and what’s-her-name broke up, but I thought you were going into this with something a little permanent in mind.”
Cassian could only shrug. He wasn’t the hookup kind. Had never been. Last time he’d had a well and true hookup was almost five years ago, and now Arya was a reminder of why hookups don’t always work out as planned. He loved her more than anything, but having a kid at twenty-four hadn’t exactly been in his plans. “She was too uptight. Too much of a hoity-toity bitch.”
“Bitch is a bad word, daddy,” Arya said pointedly as she came around the back of the couch and climbed up between her father and uncle.
Rhysand laughed as Cassian caught her and pulled her into his lap. “Yes, it is, and you shouldn’t say it. Last thing I need is Miss Atkins calling me up and telling me you're swearing in school.”
“If I can’t say it, you can’t say it,” she said, and took his face into her little hands, patting him on his stubbled cheeks. “I want pizza.”
“You just ate a plate of bacon,” Rhysand said, throwing his hands dramatically in the air.
“Mhmm, and now I want pizza,” she said, and hopped off the couch. “I’m gonna put on my dress.”
She ran up the stairs and disappeared into the guest room that held Arya’s little twin bed. Cassian looked at Rhysand, who was laughing.
“She’s definitely yours,” Rhysand said, shaking his head. “Swears like a sailor and always hungry.”
“Yeah, well, I’m starting her in dance classes on Monday,” Cassian said, shrugging. “Get a little piece of her mom that way.”
Rhysand nodded quietly and patted Cassian on the shoulder. “You’re doing good, Cass. She’s a good kid.”
“Thanks,” he grumbled, and before he could say anything else, Arya was rushing back down the stairs with a brush in hand and her dress on backwards. “Do my hair please, daddy.”
She hopped onto Cassian’s lap and he let out a grunt as he took the brush and began brushing through her dark, wild, wavy hair. After taking the tie out of his own hair and letting it fall loose, he pulled Arya’s into a ponytail at the top of her head. Once she stood, Cassian helped her switch her dress around so that the front of it was facing forward.
“There,” Cassian smiled. “Beautiful.”
“Now pizza?” she asked, clapping her hands together. “Uncle Rhysie come, too?”
Rhysand pulled her into a hug and sighed. “I have to go meet Feyre. Maybe next time.”
Arya frowned. “I don’t like Feyre.”
Cassian chuckled. “Yes, you do.”
She crossed her arms and shook her head.
“You’re just jealous,” Rhysand muttered and poked her in the ribs, making her giggle. “But trust me, you’ll always be my number one girl.”
She beamed up at him, reaching behind her and idly playing with Cassian’s loose hair.
He turned his face into her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. “Where’s Mor? I’m sure she’d enjoy some pizza.”
“She had a goat yoga class this morning with Emerie and was getting brunch afterwards,” Rhys said, standing and stretching.
Cassian just blinked, Arya slipping from his lap and running back into the kitchen. “Did you say-?”
“Yeah,” Rhysand sighed. “Goat yoga. I don’t know if it was her idea or Em’s, but they drove about an hour outside of the city to some farm to do yoga with baby goats.”
“Can we get a baby goat, daddy?” Arya asked, returning with another piece of bacon in her hand.
“Hey!” Rhys pointed at her. “Did you take that from my plate? You ate all of yours.”
She quickly stuffed the last few bites in her mouth. “You snooze, you lose, Uncle Rhysie!”
Rhysand gasped and began chasing her around the living room. If it was any indication of what the rest of their time together had consisted of, Cassian was certain that Arya would need a nap at some point.
It was another day in the life of fatherhood - pizza, begging for a baby goat, and unending hyperness that wore Cassian out. He wouldn’t trade it for the world, though. There may have been times that he needed a night to relive the bachelor life, but being Arya's father? That’s what he was called to do and he loved every second of it.
~
Nesta looked around her newly finished studio. She had less than forty-eights hours until opening day and she already had nearly-full classes. Word had spread quickly through the dancing community that a young professional who spent nearly a decade traveling with one of the most famous dance companies in Prythian was opening her own studio and it had given her a solid foundation.
She was nervous.
But she was excited, too.
It was a change in pace from what she was used to, and while initially, Nesta had seen it as a punishment. And in some ways, she supposed it was. But she had the chance to change someone’s life, like her instructors had changed hers. She had the chance to settle down, which touring with a professional company hadn’t allowed. Velaris was a beautiful city, one that she’d always loved visiting when she was performing. She had secretly thought about maybe one day, when she was older and had retired, buying a home here.
She had, indeed, ended up buying a home here, outside the city, sight unseen, she just wasn’t retired.
Or old.
She heard the bell above the front door jingle and made her way to the lobby, finding the other reason she’d ended up in Velaris stepping inside. Her younger sisters were beaming from ear to ear as they took in her studio.
“Well?” Nesta asked, gesturing to the cozy entryway around them.
“It’s perfect!” Elain replied, a bouquet of flowers in her arms that she placed on the desk Nesta used as her main base and fluffed them out. “When does-?”
“How was your date?” Feyre interrupted, which Elain glared at her for, but Nesta could see the interest in Elain’s eyes as well.
Nesta just looked at Elain. “You had to tell her?”
Elain didn’t look the least bit sorry as she shrugged.
“I went, I got a free dinner, and that was that,” she said. “I’d love some help arranging-.”
“Will you see him again?” Feyre asked. Apparently interrupting was her specialty of the day.
“No,” Nesta said, quickly. “Now-.”
“Why not?” Feyre pushed.
Nesta spun around to face her sisters, exasperated. “Because he was a good fuck but other than that, the guy was a dick.”
Elain’s brows shot up as Feyre grinned. “See? Told you she’d get lucky.”
“Thought she’d at least be a bit classier about it,” Elain muttered.
“You should really let me introduce you to-.”
“No,” Nesta said, taking a page from Feyre’s own book and cutting her off. She sighed when both of her sisters stepped back at the bite in her tone. She did her best to make her voice as gentle as possible. “I do not need to be introduced to anyone. I do not need to meet any of Reed’s friends. I do not need a boyfriend. I needed dinner and an orgasm and I got it.”
“It’s Rhys,” Feyre corrected. “Which you’d know if you’d bother to meet him, too.”
“You’ve lived here almost a full month,” Elain added. “And you still haven’t come out with us. We want you to meet our friends. They want to meet you.”
Nesta was almost certainly sure they did not want to meet her, if her sisters had told them how awful she was to them as children.
“Maybe when things settle down from the opening,” she lied, and even though she’d turned and headed towards the different sized studios in the back, she could feed their stares boring into her. “Come look at the lounge. The couches finally came in and they look great with your paint choice, Feyre.”
Feyre nodded, and it was clear she was still trying to shake off Nesta’s tone. “I have a few paintings in the car I finished that I thought would look nice.”
Nesta’s feet slowed as she rounded the corner to the lounge and said, “Thank you.”
She meant it and as it was clear she was trying to move on to a new conversation and avoid any sort of conflict, the other two moved on as well.
That’s how it always was with them.
Elain and Feyre would try to open Nesta up.
Nesta wouldn’t let them.
Then they all avoided the tension until they forgot about it. Or, at least pushed it aside enough to not matter for a little while.
They hadn’t questioned her when she’d called them to tell them she was moving to town, hadn’t questioned the injury she’d told them she’d sustained during the ballet’s season break. Hadn’t question why she hasn’t wanted to move back to their small hometown.
They were just happy to get their sister back after all these years.
Deep down, she was, too.
Her opening was in just a few days time and Nesta couldn’t wait.
She wondered if her dancers were just as excited as she was.
~
“What about this one?” Cassian held up a pink leotard with little flowers sewn into the collar and a skirt attached. He looked at the fifty-three dollar price tag and put it back. “Nevermind, they didn’t have it in your size.”
They most certainly had, but Cassian wasn’t spending fifty dollars on something Arya would outgrow in three months.
Thankfully, Arya was distracted by the wall of patterned leotards on the wall and hadn’t heard him suggest the overpriced onesie. They were shopping for her first dance class next week and Arya was being as picky as ever.
Everything was either too girly or not girly enough and Cassian was about to throw in the towel and text Mor to ask for aid at the small dance boutique in town when Arya had wandered off and found the wall before her.
They were all basic white, but you could find a pattern of almost anything printed in different colors. To the right and left of the onesies were different colored tutus and skirts to mix and match. She squealed and pointed. “Daddy, dinosaurs!”
Lo and behold, about halfway up the wall, were three leotards with dinosaurs on them. One was primarily blues, one was green, and the last was a mix of colors from pink to blue to green to yellow to red.
“Which one?” He asked, reaching towards the wall.
She jumped up and threw her hands in the air. “All of them!”
Cassian chuckled and shook his head. “You’re only getting two tonight, cause we have to get your tights and shoes, remember? And don’t you think you should have something aside from just dinosaurs?”
She pouted for a second, but perked up and asked, “Spider-Man?”
Cassian cringed, slightly rueful that his daughter had gotten his movie and entertainment preferences as he turned towards the wall. She loved any and everything superhero, which was harder to find for a little girl than one would think.
Especially when said little girl still wanted to be pink and frilly. She just wanted to carry Thor’s hammer, Mjolnir, as her backpack to school some days.
Unfortunately, there was no Spider-Man, or Batman for that fact, and she settled on a onesie with kitten paw prints. She picked out a skirt for each and they were checking out and on the way home in a matter of minutes.
Arya couldn’t stop talking about how excited she was in the backseat. Cassian listened quietly, responding when appropriate, loving the happiness in her small voice. She couldn’t wait to learn to dance and to make new friends. She hoped her teacher was nice and pretty and fun.
He wasn’t sure she had been this excited for her first day of preschool the year before.
She was still talking about it when he put her to bed and he was sure she would still be talking about it the next morning.
Cassian smiled as he himself laid in bed that night, knowing that if this was any indication of what was to come, Tanwyn’s love and legacy of ballet may live on after all.
Summary: After a series of tragic events, Bryce is forced to raise her daughter alone until her ex and father of her child, Hunt, gets discharged from the military. When he comes back to town, Bryce finds that the past cannot simply be forgotten.
Warnings: Mature content throughout. Language, sex, drinking, etc.
Summary: Rowan was just looking for a night of fun after his divorce. Aelin was looking for one last reckless moment before selling her soul to her everyday grind of 9-5. Neither had any idea of just how much one night could change somebody’s life.
Warnings: Mature content throughout. Language, sex, drinking, etc. Explicitly NSFW will be labelled at the beginning of chapters containing NSFW content.
A collab with @theladyofdeath
TW: Trauma, death, grief.
It had taken nearly an hour for Oliver to settle after Rowan had left with Maeve. Aelin explained to him as best she could that his mommy was okay, she just needed help getting home. It was so much worse than that, but she didn’t let herself think about that, not as she tucked him back into bed, staying with him until his breathing evened out. She cracked his door and tiptoed back downstairs, retrieving her phone from the bedroom. With a sigh, she saw that Rowan’s own phone was still on his nightstand, forgotten there as he was leaving with Maeve.
It was almost three in the morning as she made her way back out into the living room, the sparkling tree in the corner shining in multicolored hues. Peeking out the window, she saw that the snow had begun to pile up. If it kept up through the following day, Aelin knew there was a good chance she’d be out of school on Monday. She silently urged it to keep snowing, wanting nothing more than a day to be snowed in with her boys.
Curling up on the couch with a blanket, Aelin turned the television on, turning on a movie and aimlessly scrolling through her social media pages.
Before she knew it, she awoke with a jolt, not having realized she dozed off. Aelin sat up, looking around the house. “Rowan?”
She didn’t hear an answer, but she got up regardless and headed into the bedroom. The bed was empty, the sheets exactly how’d they’d been left when Maeve had interrupted the most amazing orgasm Aelin had had in a while.
But that was the last thing on her mind currently.
Rushing to the bathroom, she flipped on the light switch, finding the room empty as well.
Panic began to build as Aelin glimpsed the clock and saw that it was fifteen minutes until five.
Rowan should have been back a long time ago.
With a curse, Aelin began to pace the floor.
It wasn’t that she was worried about his devotion tonher. She wasn’t worried about cheating, wasn’t worried about him making a move on Maeve. She was however worried about the snow, worried about the slick roads, worried about the chaos that could occur when a winter storm hit. She was worried about his anger, worried about his mindset when he had a left, when he had begun to drive her home. She did not know a lot about their past relationship, but she knew Rowan. She knew that he felt with his whole heart and nothing more. With Oliver asleep, she was left to drown in her thoughts alone.
Half an hour passed, then another.
She called Lorcan.
Four rings passed before he answered, and when he did, his voice was sleepy. “Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Aelin. I’m sorry to bother you, but… Rowan took Maeve home and hasn’t come back,” She said, without a breath. “I’m getting worried.”
She heard a soft voice in the background and Lorcan murmured, “No, I’ll be right back,” before he addressed Aelin again. “Let me guess. She was drunk off her ass?”
Aelin nodded and then remembered she actually needed to respond for him to hear her. “Yeah, she had passed out before they even left.” She gnawed on her lip. “He forgot his phone here. I’m worried.”
“If I’ve told him once, I’ve told him a hundred times. He needs to get a restraining order for her on the house.” He sighed and added, “I’ve got a buddy on patrol in that area tonight. I’ll have him stop by and make sure everything is okay.”
“Thank you, Lorcan,” she replied, breathing a sigh of relief.
“Where is Oliver?” He asked, and his voice had taken on a slightly panicked tone.
“He’s here, with me. Sound asleep in his bed.”
“Good. Good.” It was quiet for a second. “Give me a few minutes, Aelin. I’ll call you back after I talk to the officer in that area.”
They hung up and Aelin sat back down on the couch. There was no going back to sleep, not until she knew Rowan was okay, not until he was safe and sound next to her.
She waited for Lorcan to call her back in the dead silence. As the time passed, Aelin meandered back into Rowan’s bedroom.
She sat on the bed and wondered about the horror that was going on.
Rowan had acted like it wasn’t a big deal, like it had happened a hundred times before. She knew Rowan was the kind of man that would take a woman home that couldn’t drive herself. She loved him for that but it didn’t make it any easier.
When Aelin was drifting away, her phone finally vibrated.
“Hello?” She answered.
“Aelin,” Lorcan responded, and his voice was broken.
It instantly had Aelin sitting up. “What’s wrong?”
There was a beat of silence. “There… I need you to meet me at the hospital.”
No.
“What happened?” She was up, shoving her feet into the first pair of shoes she found.
Another heavy silence and Aelin could have sworn she heard the man on the other sniffling. As if he were…crying.
“Lorcan, what happened?” Aelin pushed, hurrying through the living room, heading for her purse by the door.
He said, “He’s- There was an accident.”
Aelin froze. She was instantly transported back to another place, another time, but a sinking feeling all the same. “Is he dead?”
Her voice sounded hollow, far away.
“No, thank the gods,” he breathed and Aelin heard genuine relief there, though it was still edged in fear. “He’s in surgery. He’s…in bad shape.”
She continued the path to her purse but froze at the door. “Ollie. Lorcan, I can’t leave Ollie.”
“Elide is on the way there, she should be there any minute.”
Aelin nodded and continued to hold the phone up to her ear, although she didn’t say anything. Neither did Lorcan, although his shaky breaths continued to come through the line. He stayed with her, though, on the phone in the silence until Aelin saw Elide’s car pull into the snowy driveway. She kept it running and hurried up the front porch steps.
“She’s here,” Aelin said, quietly. “See you soon.”
They said their goodbyes as Aelin opened the door. Elide had been crying, her eyes were red, and Aelin hadn’t even realized that she had been crying until Elide pulled her into a tight hug.
“Take my car,” she said. “It’s already warm and my tires are new.”
Aelin didn’t protest. She told her new friend thank you before getting behind the wheel and slowly driving the two miles in the snow storm to the hospital. When she arrived, Lorcan was waiting for her just inside the door.
They walked through the halls together and Lorcan filled her in on what he had been told. Once the ambulances arrived on the scene, they rushed Rowan and Maeve to the emergency room and they were both quickly rushed into surgery. Lorcan didn’t know a lot about Maeve’s current condition, but he knew Rowan was fighting for his life.
Rowan hadn’t been the one to lose control of the car, but a truck had been coming the opposite direction. The truck hit a slick spot and hit Maeve’s car head on. Rowan had suffered a shattered brow bone that left him with not only unbearable pain, Aelin was certain, but a concussion. His shoulder was broken, too, according to the doctor Lorcan had spoken with, but they weren’t too worried about that. Broken bones would heal with time.
He was currently undergoing surgery for the bleeding in his brain.
“They won’t know the severity of how it will affect him until he wakes up, but if the surgery is successful, the doctor said he would hopefully be waking up soon after.”
“And if it’s not successful?” Aelin had asked.
Lorcan didn’t answer, but his grim expression was enough.
And so they sat in silence in the waiting room. At one point, Lorcan left without saying much, returning a few moments later with coffee from the hospital cafeteria. When Aelin softly began to cry, Lorcan put a comforting arm around her. There was nothing romantic in the gesture, just two people sharing strength in the face of a devastating tragedy.
A doctor in a pair of dark scrubs, mask still over his face, stepped out into the waiting area and Aelin’s entire body filled with dread as his eyes searched the room, landing on them.
“Stay here,” Lorcan whispered and stood, crossing the room and pausing in front of the man.
They spoke in hushed tones, the doctor nodding his head as he responded to Lorcan’s questions. After a few moments, Lorcan shook the man’s hand and he went back through the swinging double doors behind them.
Yet Lorcan didn’t move. He stood there, staring at the closed door, as if he could see all the way to wherever Rowan was. She heard him clear his throat before he headed across the room back to her.
His face was unreadable, wearing the mask of the officer who had to give and receive bad news all day long. She opened her mouth to try and speak, but found her voice was gone.
Sitting down, Lorcan finally said, “Rowan is still in surgery. They were able to relieve the pressure on his brain and staunch the bleeding. They’re finishing up the procedure now and he’ll be moving to a recovery room shortly.”
A whoosh of air left Aelin. “Thank god.” She looked at him then and noticed Lorcan was still tense, still had the haunted look in his eye he was trying so hard to hide. “What’s wrong? I thought that was good news.”
“It is, he’s…he’s going to be fine,” Lorcan said, closing his eyes and taking a breath. “Maeve’s injuries were too severe. They did everything they could, but…she’s gone, Aelin.”
Aelin blinked. “She’s…dead?”
Lorcan nodded.
“Oh, gods,” she breathed, tears welling in her eyes.
They never would have been in this situation, she and Rowan would have been in bed asleep right now, had Maeve not shown up drunk on the front porch. Rowan would have never had to take her home. All of this was a product of what Maeve had done.
Yet Aelin couldn't stop the tears as they ran down her face.
Her own feelings of Maeve aside, the anger and resentment she had towards the woman, she had been a mother. Oliver had loved her as a son should love his mother. She prayed that his memory of the night before would be forgotten, that he was too tired to absorb the situation. That was not the way that a child should remember his mother for the last time.
Aelin had lost her mom. Oliver was too young to bear such pain.
She’d also lost her dad, too. She lost them both, in the same way Ollie had almost his. But by the grace of the gods, Rowan was going to be okay.
Lorcan remained silent, staring at his hands in his lap. She knew he was having all the same thoughts, there was no need to voice them.
So they sat, and they waited, and when Aelin felt like she was going to explode from the way that time was moving agonizingly slow, she stood and paced around the waiting room. Lorcan went to refill his coffee twice, talking to Elide as he came back the second time. He hung up when he reached Aelin, who was now leaning against one of the far walls.
“Oliver’s awake, eating breakfast,” he said, quietly. “Wondered where you two were this morning.”
“What did Elide tell him?” Aelin asked.
“The truth,” Lorcan admitted, sighing. “Although, she didn’t get into how bad it really is. Just let him know that Ro is here, and a doctor is helping him feel better.”
Aelin frowned, wondering if Oliver had asked about Maeve at all, wondered if he remembered that she had been present the night before. If not, that was a blessing in itself.
It was a little after nine when the same doctor as before appeared and began walking towards where the pair was waiting. As he did so, Aelin swore she wasn’t breathing.
“He’s out of surgery and has been put in a recovery room,” he explained, gently. “He’s still asleep, but all of his vitals are exactly where they should be.”
Aelin let out a breath and a sob all at once, and Lorcan’s hand reached for hers to give her balance.
“You may go see him now,” the doctor continued. “If you’re ready, I’ll show you to his room.”
Aelin was moving before he finished his sentence.
He paused before a closed door, explaining to them what they were about to see.
It still didn’t prepare Aelin as he quietly pushed the door open and let them inside.
The soft sob that tore from her was as much as she allowed as she looked at Rowan lying in the hospital bed. She was thankful for Lorcan’s hand still in hers, because she was fairly certain she would have fallen to her knees if he weren’t there beside her.
There was little of the handsome face she loved visible beneath the bruising, stitches, and swelling. He was nearly unrecognizable, a bandage wrapping around his head and down over his left eye.
The doctor excused himself and Aelin slowly walked in and sat in a chair by the window, afraid to get too close. She hadn’t been in a hospital in years, and the last time she had still haunted her, just as she knew this experience would.
Lorcan walked to the foot of the bed, though, and crossed his arms.
“Fuck,” he breathed, and swallowed before walking around to Rowan’s side. He took Rowan’s limp hand in his and stood there for a moment before gently laying it back down on top of Rowan’s abdomen. “Will you, uh, keep me posted? If anything changes, I’ll come right back. I’m gonna go see Oliver and El.”
Aelin nodded. “Of course.”
Lorcan watched Rowan for another minute before patting Aelin on the shoulder and leaving.
When it was just the two of them, the monitor beeping in the background, Aelin got the courage to move her chair to his bedside.
As she took his hand in hers, Aelin suppressed the urge to cry again. She knew they were far from being the last tears she cried over everything happening.
“I doubt you can hear me,” she breathed, rubbing her thumb back and forth along the back of his hand. “But I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. Ollie is-.” Her voice broke as she imagined the news Lorcan and Elide were going to have to break to Oliver. Selfishly, she was glad she wasn’t the one to tell him about Maeve’s death.
In the back of her mind, she wondered who would be the one to tell Cairn, then she realized she had too much else to worry about. He wasn’t her concern.
“You’re going to be fine,” she whispered, and she honestly wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince his unconscious form or herself. With shaking fingers, she reached out and skimmed her fingers along his cheekbone. It was bruised, like every other part of him. “We’ve got a long road ahead of us, but I’ll be there all the way. I love you.”
She was crying again, but she knew there was no shame in her tears. The more she thought about it, about how close she came to losing Rowan, her sobs grew heavier and heavier until her face was buried in the mattress next to his sleeping body.
She must have fallen asleep there, because the next thing she knew, her shoulder was being shaken gently and she was up on her feet.
The nurse held up her hands in a placating gesture. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I just need to check his blood pressure and other vitals.”
Trying to calm her racing heart, she nodded and moved back to a chair by the window. The nurse moved around his bed, checking charts and monitors, adjusting his IV’s and dosing out more new medicine.
Aelin realized the nurse was talking to her just in time to have no idea what she’d said. She shook her head, trying to clear it, to make room for some clarity in her jumbled mess of thoughts. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.”
She smiled softly. “I said that my name was Sorscha, and if you need anything, to ask for me personally. I’ll be sending a cot up so you have somewhere to sleep if you need it.”
The gratitude Aelin felt was nearly overwhelming. “Thank you, I-.” She swallowed roughly. “Thank you.”
Sorscha gave her another smile and was gone.
Aelin looked at the clock on the wall. It was nearing three in the afternoon.
She realized she’d never called Lysandra or Aedion, or even Principal Spindlehead, to let them know what was going on.
She did that as she waited, calling them all one by one. First Principal Spindlehead, then Aedion, and lastly Lysandra, who talked with her for half an hour and listened as she sobbed. Lastly, she called Lorcan, just to check in. It was almost four by the time Aelin finished making her calls. She took a seat next to Rowan, yet again, and took his hand in hers. She leaned down and pressed her lips softly to the back of his hand, then to each of his fingers.
“Aelin.”
It was hardly a whisper and for a moment, Aelin just thought she was sleep deprived and imagined it.
When she looked up, though, she met Rowan’s tired gaze through his one swollen eye.
Aelin’s hand went over her mouth and she sobbed. He watched her, his breathing still shallow but even.
“Ro,” she cried, and kissed his hand again and again. His fingers tightened around hers.
“I heard you,” he whispered. “I love you, too.”
She hurriedly pressed the button to alert Sorscha that he had woken, but she didn’t take her eyes off of him. After helping him to a few sips of water, she was holding his hand once again.
“What happened?” He asked, voice still quiet, scratchy, as if every word hurt.
“You don’t remember?” She asked, brushing his hair off his forehead.
For a moment, he didn’t reply but then she saw the recognition in his eye.
“Maeve?” He asked.
Aelin swallowed hard as she shook her head.
A thousand emotions rushed through Rowan’s eye, and Aelin reached up to gently brush away the tear that had fallen down his cheek.
“Is Ollie-?” He frantically tried to look around the room.
“He’s at home,” Aelin said, bringing his gaze back to her. “Lorcan and Elide are with him.”
His next words were heavier. “Does he know?”
She closed her eyes against the tears threatening to spill over again. “Elide told him what happened when he woke up this morning and we weren’t there.” She paused to collect herself and her eyes dropped to their joined hands. “Lorcan was going to tell him about Maeve when he got to the house.”
Rowan’s lips pressed firmly together as he closed his eyes. “I want to see him.”
Aelin was about to tell him that maybe that wasn’t such a good idea, but before she could, Sorscha came in.
“Glad to see you awake,” she said, smiling in way of greeting. “I’m just going to do a quick check up then I’ll answer any questions you have.”
Rowan didn’t say anything as she checked his vitals and when she was done, he answered her questions as plainly as possible.
It was still another full day before Rowan was able to have any more visitors. He still was battered and bruised, but he thankfully looked more normal than he had when Aelin had first seen him by the time a soft knock sounded on his door just before dinner time. Rowan looked towards the door as Aelin hurried to the door and slipped out.
She was met with Lorcan, Elide, and a teary-eyed Oliver. Before she could stop herself, Aelin dropped to her knees and wrapped him up. His tiny arms wrapped around her and she felt him bury his face in her neck.
After a minute, he pulled away, those dark eyes full of tears, he asked, “Is my daddy okay?”
Aelin gave him a sad smile. “He’s okay, buddy. He’s hurt pretty bad, so we have to be careful with him, but he’ll be okay.”
Oliver sniffled and nodded as Aelin opened the door and carried him inside. The second they walked in, Rowan was smiling.
“Hey, buddy.”
Aelin set him on the floor but Oliver moved toward the bed hesitantly, looking around at the machines that were beeping around Rowan.
“It’s okay,” Rowan said, softly, and held out his hand.
Another tear slid down Oliver’s cheek as he approached the bed and hugged his father. Rowan softly rubbed his back, even though Aelin could tell every movement hurt him.
The sight broke Aelin’s heart and she could hardly bear watching it, but she did nonetheless. Elide and Lorcan stood just inside the doorway, his arm around her.
Oliver cried about his mom, and Rowan had told him that it was okay to be sad, to miss her. He walked Oliver through all of his injuries, and told him how long each of them would take to heal. As time went on, Oliver’s tears dried and he eventually fell asleep on the bed next to Rowan. Neither of them had the heart to move him, not when he needed strength only his father could give him.
It wasn’t much longer that Lorcan and Elide left, the latter having brought Aelin a bag of clothes and toiletries. She thanked her and hugged both she and Lorcan, not expecting the bond that had formed between herself and Rowan’s stoic best friend. They’d been through hell together that night though, had been each other’s support system as they both waited.
And then it was just Aelin and Rowan, Oliver still out cold tucked against his father’s side. Neither of them knew what to say, neither of them knew what to do.
But nonetheless, Aelin took Rowan’s free hand, careful of the IV taped to the back, and pressed a kiss to it.
The next few months would be hard, there was no doubt about that. Rowan had a long road to recovery and Oliver had a grieving process he’d have to go down, and they’d help him every step of the way.
They didn’t know what the future might hold, but they were certain of one thing.
Summary: After a series of tragic events, Bryce is forced to raise her daughter alone until her ex and father of her child, Hunt, gets discharged from the military. When he comes back to town, Bryce finds that the past cannot simply be forgotten.
Warnings: Mature content throughout. Language, sex, drinking, etc.
Written with @theladyofdeath
NOW.
Hunt hadn’t slept at all the night before. Baxian’s apartment in the city was as nice as the one he kept in the Eternal City, the bed just as plush and comfortable as the one in his spare room that he’d slept in hundreds of times there.
Usually his sleepless nights were thanks to the shit he’d seen in the conflict in Pangera, of the months he’d spent captive in rebel camps. His therapist was helping him work through that though, helping teach him ways to breathe through the memories that were so real they threatened to swallow him whole.
No, last night, he had been wide awake for an altogether different reason.
He’d been sitting in Baxian’s living room, watching the pregame for a sunball game when his phone rang. Snatching it off the coffee table, he looked at the screen, the name Bryce Quinlan lighting up the screen.
He wasn’t sure he’d ever had her saved in his phone with just her first and last name. It had always been some joke between them, which more often than not had ended up getting him in trouble when Micah picked his phone up by mistake.
“Bryce Sucks My Dick Like A Champ wants to know what time you’re picking her up for dinner,” he’d said with a sneer the first time it happened.
Hunt had been mortified.
It certainly wasn’t the last time it happened and it wasn’t even the worst thing she’d saved her contact name as in the two and a half years they were together.
He was about to answer when he started to panic slightly. Did he answer and immediately let her know that he knew it was her? Should he go full professional and answer like he had in the Army? Nonchalant and cool?
Why the fuck was he overthinking this? It was a phone call with…with his baby mama.
Hunt hated that thought. Clearing his throat, he answered, “This is Athalar.”
Her responding snort as she heard what he said told him he’d picked wrong when it came to the greeting.
“Hey, Athalar,” she said, breathless. “Quinlan here.”
His cheeks burned. He felt like a dumbass. Why hadn’t he just answered with a natural Hello? and called it good.
Because he was a dumbass.
He cleared his throat again, trying to ignore the thrill hearing her voice did to him. “Hey.”
It had been nearly a week since Hunt had come back to town and he still hadn’t seen Lennox. She had previous engagements, Bryce had said, when she’d called him last week to let him know she was bringing the situation up to her at dinner that night.
Hunt didn’t know what they were, wasn’t sure if it was school or sports or some sort of extracurricular activity. All he knew is that he was ready to see his daughter. After years of pictures and videos, of occasional stilted phone calls and presents awkwardly shipped at the holidays, he was ready to finally meet the daughter he’d never expected.
“Busy tomorrow?” She asked, cutting straight to the point. Hunt shot to his feet and he wasn’t sure why.
“No,” he replied. “Are you…busy?”
That snort again. It was like he had forgotten how to talk to her, how to talk to anyone. He supposed after nearly a decade in the military he had forgotten how to do a lot of things.
“I’m taking Lennox to the zoo,” Bryce replied, nonchalantly. “I’d-.” She cleared her throat. “We’d like for you to join us.”
“Of course, yes, absolutely.” He didn’t care that he had sounded too eager, not when his daughter was involved.
She gave him the time and that had been that. The conversation hadn’t lasted even two minutes.
Now, even though he was dragging, he filled up his coffee cup and changed his clothes three times after nearly having a panic attack in the shower.
Would she even care that he was going? She had done just fine with one parent for eight years. Their relationship was about to forever change.
Hunt just prayed it would be for the better.
After settling on a black t-shirt and a pair of jeans, he grabbed his wallet and keys and was out the door.
He remembered where the Crescent City Zoo was, even though he hadn’t been there since before he’d joined the Army. It occupied the eastern most point of the city, in Moonwood, and was home to some of the most beautiful and carefully cared for creatures in the world. He hadn’t accounted for traffic across the city and was almost ten minutes late by the time he pulled his rental car into the parking spot, slamming it into park and hopping out before the engine had even quieted.
He swiped the ball cap he’d tossed onto the dash, putting it on and hurried towards the main entrance. Bryce had texted him a few minutes before, letting him know they’d gone ahead and would be waiting for him at the info center. He bought his ticket and found a map just inside, and after locating the info center, walked to them as calmly as he could.
He spotted Bryce’s vibrant hair as soon as the building was in sight. It was tied up in a high ponytail, still as long as he’d remembered. Longer even. He paused, watching as she crouched by a bench, pulling out a water bottle and drinking deeply. He tried not to stare, but seeing Bryce, after all this time…
She was still just as beautiful as she’d been the day he left. She was captivating, that glorious smile and those bright eyes that sparkled.
He felt eyes on him though, and looked away from Bryce to find a near identical set watching him.
Hunt had been about to approach, but he froze as he took in Lennox, at the same time she looked at him.
She had gotten so big. He’d seen her a handful of times in person when he was able to visit for a weekend here and there, but it had been a while and she had grown more than a couple feet since the last time he had taken her into his arms.
He was worried of how she would react, worried of how this first interaction between the two of them would go, but when that realization finally lit up her eyes, Lennox was giving him a gap-toothed grin. “Dad!”
That single word had him hauling his ass into motion. He took a few steps her way but she was already sprinting towards him and throwing her little arms around his neck. He picked her up and swung her around, holding on tight. He breathed into her hair, “Hey, kiddo.”
“Hi, dad,” she said, voice muffled in his shirt.
“You’re getting so big,” he said, looking down at her.
When he set her feet back on the pavement, that smile remained. Hunt wanted to say something more, but no words came to mind and he hoped it wasn’t awkward. The only kids Hunt had been around in years were the refugees he was escorting out of the war zone.
“Hey.”
Hunt’s eyes snapped up at the voice from behind him, and he turned, connecting with Bryce’s as she approached them, adjusting the backpack on her back.
“Hey,” Hunt replied, letting loose a breath.
They stared at one another and Lennox, in between them, was looking back and forth between her parents. “Can we go now?”
Bryce’s eyes darted to her daughter and for a second she looked shaken up. “Sure. Yes.” She chuckled. “Lead the way, babe. It’s been a while since your dad has been here, I’m sure, and you know this place better than anyone. Be the leader.”
“Can I have my book?” She asked, reaching an arm out toward Bryce. She turned, allowing Lennox to reach up on her tiptoes and grab a large pad and a small silver box out of the backpack. She re-zipped it and turned to Hunt. “Do you want to see the giraffes first or the bears?”
Hunt considered for a second and said, “Bears.”
Grinning, Lennox started down the path behind the info center, letting her parents trail behind her. They walked in comfortable silence as Lennox expertly navigated the park.
Trying to work up the courage to say something, Hunt kept glancing over at where Bryce walked beside him. She caught him and smiled as his cheeks heated.
She looked back toward where Lennox had found a bench overlooking the bear enclosure and said, “You look good.” She made no move to follow their daughter, instead pausing beneath a small awning far enough away to grant her a bit of privacy, but still close enough that they knew she was safe.
Releasing a breath, he watched as Lennox sat cross legged on the bench, opened the pad on her lap, and started sketching. He pulled the hat off, smoothing those stray hairs that never quite stayed in place back and putting it back on. When he looked over at Bryce, her eyes were on that backwards hat. “Thanks,” he said, drawing her attention back to his face. He gestured towards Lennox. “So she likes to draw, huh?”
Bryce let out a mirthful laugh. “Draw, paint, color. You name it, she loves it. She’s pretty good, too.”
“Wow,” Hunt whispered, watching Lennox study the animals before her. “I never knew.” He felt a pang of guilt, but he quickly pushed it away. He could go on and on and on about everything he felt guilty for, everything he had missed while he was in the Army. It wouldn’t do any good, though. He had signed his life away at eighteen and if he hadn’t gone, there would have been Hel to pay. He went, he did his duty, and now he was back. All he could focus on now was the present.
“There’s a lot of things you don’t know.” There was nothing hard in Bryce’s voice, it remained light. She was simply stating a fact. When Hunt looked back her way, she was watching him. “You’ll have the time to get to know them all now. You’ll be able to get to know her, Hunt.”
He nodded and went back to watching Lennox. He was talking to Bryce, though, when he said, “How have you been?”
There was a pause. “Good. Busy. Had the day off, though. Doesn’t happen often. Usually I just have Sundays off.”
“You work Saturdays?” Hunt asked.
“Most of them, but only in the mornings. Sometimes Nox goes with me, sometimes she hangs out with Ruhn, sometimes my mom and Randal, when they’re in town.”
“How are they?” Hunt asked. “Your parents.”
“Oh, good,” Bryce said, laughing quietly. “I talked to them last night. Told them you were back in town.”
Hunt was about to ask how that conversation had gone, but he felt that he didn’t have the right to. Instead, he asked, “Ruhn didn’t want to come today?”
Bryce looked up at him with raised brows. “Want to spend quality time with my brother, do you?”
Hunt couldn’t help but grin. “Ten bucks says you didn’t even tell him that I was meeting you two here today.”
Bryce scoffed. “I did, actually.” And when Hunt’s grin grew, she added, “He had a lot to say about it.”
“I’m sure,” Hunt grumbled. “Can’t say I blame him, though.”
She grew contemplative and she shrugged. “There’s a lot that Ruhn doesn't know about us, or anyone else for that matter.” She crossed one of those long, lean legs over a knee. The leggings she wore did wonderful things to highlight them. And her ass. He wasn’t going to pretend he hadn’t noticed. Cause he had. And it looked great, too.
He nodded, knowing exactly what she meant, but also having no clue what life was like for her for the past eight years. “We should…talk about that at some point.” As she looked over at him, eyebrow raised in question, he clarified, “Us, Quinlan. We should talk about us.”
“Us?” She asked, cocking her head to the side. “I didn’t realize there was an us.”
Her tone was light, but she was right. There wasn’t, hadn’t been since she broke his heart over eight years ago. Still, there was enough defense in her words that he asked, “You aren’t seeing anyone, right?”
She didn’t say anything at first and a pit began to grow in Hunt’s stomach. Just because she lived with Danaan didn’t mean she didn’t have a boyfriend. Single mom or not, Bryce was perfect in every way. There was bound to be someone out there who didn’t mind helping raise the kid he hadn’t been there for.
After pursing her lips, Bryce finally put him out of his misery. “No, I’m not. I haven’t had a serious boyfriend in…a long time.”
Holstrom, no doubt, he thought and then immediately chastised himself for it. He wouldn’t speak ill of the man, no matter how he’d felt about the man.
“I see,” Hunt said, then felt like it was a ridiculous thing to say. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know why he had asked in the first place, but he had to know.
“But just because I haven’t had a serious relationship in a long time, Hunt, doesn’t mean that we-.”
“I just want to catch up,” Hunt said, turning to face her. “I want to be involved and to do that I feel like there needs to be…” He wanted to say closure, but that seemed too final. “We should talk it all out first, you know? I don’t want there to be any bad blood or anything.”
“There’s no bad blood,” Bryce said, but she was no longer looking at him.
“Bryce,” he began, voice low. “I’m not asking for anything except a civil conversation. A lot has happened that we’ve never talked about. I plan on being around. A lot. I meant it when I said I was here to stay. We need to recreate our foundation. Please.”
With a weary sigh, Bryce met Hunt’s eyes, once again. “On Friday, Nox has a sleepover with a friend. Why don’t you come over for dinner? I’ll make sure Ruhn is out for a couple hours. We can…talk.”
He didn’t want to wait until Friday. He wanted to hash it all out right now, but he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t bring any of it up, not today. Today would be a joyful occasion. It was all about Lennox. He didn’t want any tears being shed today.
“I’ll plan on it, then,” he said, and he realized during some part of their conversation that he had taken a step closer to her.
Quick footsteps hurried over to them and they looked up to find Lennox approaching. She pointed at a sign behind them they’d overlooked when they had started talking. “They have a new exhibit on otters.”
Bryce’s eyes flared and he watched as she tried to contain her excitement, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. “Let’s go,” she said, coolly, but Hunt could see the happiness radiating off of her.
The second they entered the exhibit, Bryce was off, Lennox giggling as she followed her mother. Hunt stayed in the back and watched the two of them, hands in one another’s, pointing excitedly as the otters jumped off their perches into the water below. At one point, Bryce’s head fell back and she laughed, and Hunt’s stomach tightened.
She had been beautiful at eighteen, but now? She was gorgeous. Fully confident in her own glorious skin, she emanated beauty. Hunt couldn’t help but stare, especially when she smiled, when she laughed. It brightened her entire face, lit up her entire being.
Hunt used to make her laugh like that.
But that had been so long ago.
It seemed that Lennox got her mother’s otter-loving gene. She giggled as an otter came up to the glass and they watched one another. She soon had her sketchbook out and was sketching away.
“This one is for you, mommy,” she said, smiling up at Bryce before turning her attention back to the mass of otters in front of her.
Bryce just smiled and kissed the top of her head. “Thank you, my love.”
They were so close, the two of them, two peas in a pod. Hunt envied their relationship, but he wasn’t surprised by it, was grateful that Lennox had such an incredible mother.
It made her even more beautiful to him.
“Dad!” Lennox called, and Hunt started. “Come look at the otters up close! They’re sooooo cute.”
Hunt chuckled and obeyed the command. She was right. They were adorable. Bryce was practically bouncing out of her shoes.
When they left the otter exhibit, which was the exhibit they spent the longest in all day, they went on to see the penguins, then the meerkats, the monkeys, and the giraffes.
They were on their way to the elephants when a loud bang sounded in the near distance. Hunt stopped in his tracks and jumped, his body tensing, his jaw tightening as he looked around him. He could hardly contain the pounding in his chest, could hardly contain his racing thoughts, but he quickly calmed himself, remembering where he was, remembering who he was with.
Lennox was ahead of them, going up to the fence of the exhibit.
Hunt took a step to follow Lennox but a hand reached out and grabbed his.
He hadn’t realized his hands had been shaking.
“Hey,” Bryce asked, voice low. “You okay? It was just one of the truck’s backfiring.”
Sure enough, a little pickup truck with the zoo’s logo on it was driving from one exhibit to the next.
Closing his eyes, Hunt nodded, trying to calm his shallow breathing.
I’m here. I’m now. This is not then.
It was a stupid mantra, but when his therapist had told him to come up with something to ground himself on the fly, it was the best he could come up with. Now, the eight words were what kept him from bolting from bed, hurling his guts up, or having a full breakdown in front of his daughter in a public place.
I’m here. I’m now. This is not then.
When he was able to take a breath and let it out without shaking, he opened his eyes. He didn’t want to see what he beheld in her stare.
She was looking up at him with concern, but…but not pity. Instead, there was something else he saw that he hadn’t expected. Pride.
He’d become so used to the pity that he accepted it, but seeing Bryce look at him like that, like he was worth something…
“You’re here,” she breathed, as if she could read his thoughts. “You’re with…me, Hunt. You’re with me and Nox and we’re here. All of us.”
He took another deep breath and nodded.
Words were beyond him at the moment, more energy than he could expend until he had a chance to collect his thoughts. Somehow, Bryce knew that, and could tell as she squeezed his hand and said, “I’ll go see if she wants to stop for a snack. Why don’t you take a minute and meet us over there?”
He found a bench to sit on and closed his eyes again, listening to the sounds around him. Sure, the sounds of monkeys chittering and exotic birds calling weren’t exactly the sounds of normal life moving around him, but the squeal and laughter of children were. The sounds of everyday chatter, even of a baby crying somewhere nearby. It settled him, brought him back.
I’m here. I’m now. This is not then.
When he opened his eyes, Hunt felt like he could breathe again.
Even then, he took one more minute alone, listening, waiting, before getting to his feet and walking toward the nearest snack shack. Lennox sat at a table with a giant soft pretzel as he approached, but Bryce spotted him right away.
He didn’t say anything as he sat next to Lennox, across from Bryce.
Bryce didn’t ask him again if he was okay, didn’t bring it up at all.
Lennox, oblivious to it all, tore off a piece of her pretzel and held it up to Hunt with a soft smile. He gave her one in return as he took it and popped it into his mouth.
“Thank you for letting me come today,” Hunt said, looking down at Lennox then up at Bryce.
“Will I see you again soon?” Lennox asked, mouth full of food.
“Whenever you want,” Hunt said, putting an arm around her shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere. You tell me when and where you want me, and I’ll be there.”
Lennox leaned into his chest as she said, “Good.”
Hunt met Bryce’s eyes, gentle as she watched her daughter and Hunt together. She repeated Lennox’s words quietly as she looked up at Hunt. “Good.”
Summary: After a series of tragic events, Bryce is forced to raise her daughter alone until her ex and father of her child, Hunt, gets discharged from the military. When he comes back to town, Bryce finds that the past cannot simply be forgotten.
Warnings: Mature content throughout. Language, sex, drinking, etc.
Written with @theladyofdeath
Now.
Bryce was exhausted but it’s not like that was anything out of the ordinary. She had been working long hours at the gallery. Her boss was adamant that she wanted local artists represented and finding local artists with a lick of talent proved to be more difficult than she thought.
Good thing she had her brother.
When Bryce got home, Ruhn was sitting on the balcony, smoking a cigarette with his hair braided down his back.
With a chuckle, she pushed open the sliding glass door and said, “Looks like her braiding skills are improving.”
Ruhn looked over his shoulder and nodded. “Only ripped half my hair out this time. She tried to stay up until you got home but she crashed on the couch. I just carried her to bed.”
After the birth of her daughter eight years before, Bryce had no one. Her mom would’ve helped, of course, but if she moved in with Ember she would have only tried to control every aspect of her granddaughter’s life. She couldn’t help it. Ember was controlling by nature, and she meant well, but Bryce hadn’t wanted that.
Instead, she’d moved in with Ruhn and they had lived together ever since. He was the world's best uncle, and that was something she tried to remind him of often. She had no idea what she would do without him.
“Thanks,” she said, and plopped down in the chair next to him. “I promise work will calm down soon.”
Ruhn shrugged, blowing a puff of smoke into the cool night air. “Hey, you’re making good money. Can’t say no to that.”
He was right. Though Ruhn had a job making good money heading up the Auxiliary units in town, the bulk of his money came from the trust fund attached to his father’s bank account.
Their father’s bank account.
Ember, and by extension, Bryce had been steadfast in their word that Bryce would grow up as normal as possible. As a child, she had little to no contact with the man who’d sired her and had only met Ruhn when he was old enough to search her out on his own.
Ruhn was gloriously well adjusted for the upbringing he had, and even though he detested it, he’d spend his father’s money however he wished. It was a bonus if the way he chose to spend his money pissed the asshole off. It was for that reason that he paid all of the rent for the apartment off the Old Square on Central Avenue they shared.
“I made pasta,” Ruhn went on, yawning. “It’s in the fridge if you want some.”
“I’m so tired I’m not even hungry,” Bryce confessed.
“No worries, Nox helped make the sauce,” Ruhn said, and Bryce caught the softest of smiles from her brother. “It’s very…salty. So much salt.”
Bryce laughed. “But you ate it anyway, didn’t you?”
Ruhn nodded as he took a long drag from his cigarette. “Yes. Yes I did.”
She stood and patted his shoulder as she started back into the apartment. “Uncle of the Year. Drink some water.”
He reached down to where a brown bottle was sitting by the leg of his chair and held it up before putting it to his lips. It clinked quietly against his lip ring. “There’s water in beer.”
She shook her head, sliding the door shut behind her. Her first order of business was taking her heels off, which she did as she stalked for her bedroom, and her bra, which was gone as soon as her door clicked shut. She pulled on a tank top and a baggy hoodie before her sleep shorts and then she was sitting down on her bed, wanting nothing more than to lay back on the comfortable surface. She didn’t let herself, because she knew the moment she did, she’d be asleep, and there was too much she needed to do before bed.
Bryce left her phone on her bed and headed back into the kitchen, heating up some of the leftover pasta. She decided to pass on the super sodium sauce, but would be sure to tell Lennox she was proud of her nonetheless. Bryce was a tragedy in the kitchen, it was no surprise that her daughter was, too. Any and every effort had to be praised for even trying.
After her noodles, Bryce grabbed Lennox’s backpack and walked into the living room right as Ruhn was coming inside.
“You have patrol tonight?” She asked, sitting on the couch and pulling the folder out her teacher sent notes to parents in.
He fell on the couch next to her and yawned. “Nope. No night patrols until next weekend.”
Bryce hummed in response, but she was distracted by the note Lennox’s teacher had sent home with her. “Did you check her backpack after school today?”
He looked over at her, game controller in hand. “No, I thought you’d be home before she passed out.” That was concern lacing his tone. “Why, what’s up?”
Holding out the note, Bryce read, “After multiple requests to cease her doodling in the margin of worksheets and homework, Lennox Quinlan will receive silent lunch for the remainder of the week.”
“That’s fucked up,” he murmured, taking the piece of paper and reading it in its entirety. “They’re making her sit by herself during lunch because she drew some pictures on the edges of her homework?”
“I hate that fucking school,” Bryce seethed.
If Bryce hadn’t wanted Ember too involved in Lennox’s life, she wanted Einar Danaan in it even less. Lennox loved and adored her Mimi and Pop, as she lovingly referred to her mother and Randall, but she’d only met Bryce’s father a handful of times. They all preferred it be kept that way, save for the man himself, but Ruhn wouldn’t budge. So long as he was in Lennox's life, Einar wouldn’t be.
But just before Lennox had turned five, when Bryce had been deciding what schools to send her to, he’d given her a proposition. He would pay for her to attend Lunathion Prep, for her entire academic career, if Bryce would allow him to claim Lennox as a member of the Danaan bloodline.
Although she hated the man, Bryce couldn’t deny that the school would help set Lennox up for whatever she may face in her future. She’d relented, and Lennox had been enrolled in their kindergarten program the following Autumn. Now, in 3rd grade, she loved her friends and teachers and school.
Even if Bryce despised it. They looked down on her for being a single mother, even though It was none of their concern.
“She’d do just as well at Crescent City Elementar,” Ruhn said, shaking his head. “She’d do great anywhere.”
Bryce agreed but frowned nonetheless. “I just don’t understand-.”
A knock came to the door and Bryce’s words faded. She looked at Ruhn, brow raised. “Booty call?”
“None that I’m aware of,” Ruhn replied, setting down his beer and walking to the door anyway.
She let him. Bryce was too tired to deal with whatever salesperson had clearly landed on their doorstep.
Bryce continued to go through Lennox’s folder, appreciating every worksheet and work of art she passed as Ruhn opened the door.
There was silence.
Then, Ruhn said, “What the fuck are you doing here?”
That alone made her pause. Her brother rarely used that tone.
She put Lennox’s folder down and took a step toward the foyer when she heard, “Where’s Bryce?”
That voice.
She knew that voice better than her own, even though it had been a while since she had heard it in person. It had her feet stopping in place.
“I assume she didn’t know you were stopping by,” Ruhn shot back. “Or that you were in town.”
“How do you know?” He replied, and she could hear that cocky attitude of his.
“She would’ve told me.”
This was ridiculous. Bryce should go interrupt but she just couldn’t force herself to.
“Are you going to invite me in or do I have to be an ass and let myself in?”
“This is my house,” Ruhn growled. “You’ll come in when I say you can come in.”
That voice she knew so well turned a shade darker. “If my daughter’s inside, I can do what I damn well please.”
The hint of possessiveness in his tone had Bryce coming back to life and before she could stop herself, she’d ripped the door out of Ruhn’s hand and thrown it open.
She didn’t let him see the stumble, not in her words or her body, as she took in the man before her. The Hunt who had left nine years ago, her Hunt, had been no more than a teenager. Bryce hardly recognized the mountain of a man standing in front of her, his muscles corded with strength, even the way he stood emanated power. His hair was longer, not nearly as long as it’d been, but those eyes…
Those dark eyes were they same ones she’d stared into after she’d kissed him goodbye.
She steeled herself against the emotions that slammed into her after all these years. “It’s almost ten o’clock at night,” she said, the first words she’d spoken to him in person in so long. “She’s eight. She’s asleep.”
Ruhn didn’t move. He took a step closer to Bryce and she found herself in between the two men, both pissed, towering over her.
Hunt's eyes slowly shifted from Bryce to Ruhn, then back to Bryce again. He was looking at her as if she was a puzzle he was trying to figure out. He swallowed hard, and Bryce knew that was a sign of his nerves.
The only sign they would see.
“I would’ve come earlier but I just got in,” he said, every word clipped.
He tossed another quick glance at Ruhn.
Bryce sighed and whispered, “I’m fine. Go relax.”
Ruhn waited a moment before granting her wish. He went into the living room and plopped down on the couch before Bryce dared to say anything else.
She said, “I didn’t know you were coming at all.”
“Neither did I,” he confessed, and crossed his arms. “Can I come in?”
“Lennox is asleep,” Bryce replied.
“We can’t talk?” He asked.
Bryce closed her eyes and took a deep breath, but she nodded. “We can talk. I just got home from work, so just… Give me a minute.”
He nodded and she stepped aside, letting him in. He surveyed the apartment as she shut the door behind him. It was nice, really nice, if he was being honest. But that was to be expected. Bryce had always liked nice things.
“Do you want something to drink?”
He turned to look at her, but she was already moving towards the kitchen. “No, I’m okay.”
She came back with a glass of whiskey and he raised his eyebrows. If she noticed his look, she didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, she turned to Ruhn and said, “We’ll be outside. If she wakes up—.”
“You’ll be right outside, I’ll come get you,” he finished for her, waving her off. He gave Hunt one last scathing look before they stepped out onto the chilly balcony.
Bryce was still only wearing her sleep shorts.
With the way Hunt was looking at her legs, it seemed she wasn’t the only one who’d noticed.
“Still living with Danaan?” Hunt asked, nodding towards the door.
Bryce sat in one of the patio chairs. “Yes.”
He waited a moment to see if she would say more but she didn’t.
“You look good,” he said, at last.
Bryce snorted and shook her head. “Why are you here, Hunt?”
He merely looked confused. “To see my daughter.”
“No,” she began, closing her eyes. “I mean, why are you here? In town? Why aren’t you still…wherever the Hel it is you were?”
Hunt nodded as he slowly sat down in the seat beside her. “I’m moving back.”
Bryce stilled. “How is that possible? You still have a year left in your ten year-.”
“I’ve been discharged,” he said, quietly.
Bryce looked at him. He didn’t meet her gaze.
“Why?” She asked.
He didn’t answer right away and for a moment she didn’t think that he would. When he did he spoke quietly. “I was caught in an…accident. Spent some time in the hospital, then some time in physical therapy. I’m in no shape to go back on the field, though, so they released me from my contract early because of it.”
She wouldn’t press him on what had happened, not tonight. She could see it now, the more that she looked at him. How tired he was. How drained he was in not only body, but spirit.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” Bryce murmured, just as softly as he had. “I—I had no idea.”
A huff of breath that resembled a laugh. “No, how could you? It’d been years since you contacted me at that point. How could you have known where I was stationed?”
Bryce closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Let’s not fight tonight, Hunt, okay? It’s been…a long time since we’ve seen each other and that’s not how this should go.”
His jaw was set, those dark eyes blazing, ready for a fight, but he nodded. “Fine. You’re right.”
“You sound like you don’t mean that,” she said.
“For someone not wanting a fight, that’s not-.”
“You’re right,” she sighed, sipping from her glass. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”
Hunt's set jaw remained but he was looking out at the horizon. “Look, all I know is that when I landed, all I wanted to do was come see Nox.”
It had been years.
He had held her once after she was born but he hadn’t been home after that. His job was an important one, but a busy one. His life as a father had consisted of phone calls and FaceTime.
“I want to be a part of her life,” Hunt said, still not looking in her direction. “I need to be a part of her life.”
“You have no idea what being a parent means.” Bryce’s voice held no hostility, just simple honesty.
“I know,” he admitted, looking down at his hands. “I’m aware. Doesn’t mean I can’t learn, though. I…admire Ruhn for being here. It’s not his job, though. It’s mine.”
Bryce sipped from her glass again, but she nodded. “Let me tell her you’re here. Explain that you’re home, that you’re here for good.” She paused and asked, a bit quieter than before, “You are here to stay, right? In Lunathion?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Yes. I want to live the life here I’ve missed out on.”
Bryce didn’t have the nerve to ask whether that just included Lennox or if it included her as well.
She asked, instead, “Where are you staying?”
“Baxian is out of the country,” Hunt replied, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “I’ll be staying at his place until I find somewhere of my own.”
The sound of Baxian’s name after so long was jarring and Bryce was barely able to hide her recoil at it. “How is he?”
Hunt shrugged. “He’s okay, I guess. We check in a couple times a week.”
Bryce nodded.
They sat in silence for a moment but it wasn’t awkward at all. There was no room for awkwardness, not when both of their minds were wandering.
“Will you call me?” Hunt asked. “After you tell her.”
Bryce watched him for a moment before nodding. “Sure.”
“Alright. Thanks.” He stood so abruptly that it made Bryce jump. He didn’t walk away though. He simply turned to face her. “I hope you’re doing okay.”
“I am,” she said, looking up at him. “Better than okay, actually. I have a good job. Lennox goes to a great school. She’s incredibly bright, very talented. She’s amazing, Hunt.”
Hunt nodded slowly. “And you?”
Bryce blinked. “What do you mean and you?”
“All you told me about yourself is that you have a good job,” Hunt said. “Not a thing about whether you're happy or not.”
“I’m happy when Nox is happy,” Bryce replied and she tried to keep the bite out of her voice but failed. “I spend all my time making sure she’s happy, so that’s where I find my joy, Hunt.”
He ignored the change in her tone, holding her to his promise not to fight. He reached for the handle of the sliding door. “My number is still the same. You know where to find me.”
He was about to push it open when she stood and turned to face him. It made him pause and he glanced over his shoulder at her. “I’m glad you’re okay, Hunt, for what it’s worth. And Nox will be excited to see you. I—.” Bryce hesitated but sighed and stepped around the chair to stand in front of him. “It’s—it’s good to see you, Hunt. Safe and in one piece.”
Because she would never admit it, but every time she saw footage of the war still raging in Pangera, Bryce got sick to her stomach, knowing her daughter’s father very well could have been lost in the fighting she saw. Her nightmares were full of folded flags and distant memories, coming back to haunt her.
His words were rough. “Thank you.”
“I’ll talk to her tomorrow, after school,” she promised, when he still hadn’t turned around. “I’ll let Jesiba know—.”
“You’re still working for Jesiba?” He asked, interrupting.
She stood up a little straighter. “Yes. What’s wrong with that?”
Hunt just shook his head and said, “You could be so much more.”
He didn’t give her a chance to reply before he slid open the door and gave Ruhn a nod in farewell, and was out the front door.
