III. The Chaotic Ordinary Couple
Part II can be found here. Dedicated to Azriel Appreciation Week 2022 Day 4 @azrielshadowsingerweek
"Are hooking up with that that high schooler?!" The skeptic hiss had Elain spitting coffee all over the textbook.
"Shit, shit, shit." She ripped a page from her nearest notebook, her effort from the last hour solving the equation going to waste in the hurry to suck up the damage. “Napkins!” She pleaded to Nuala.
If Nuala were a book character, she would definitely be Hermione, her purses always containing exactly what one needed no matter what they asked for. She reached inside of it, passing a package to Elain, a glare plastered on her face.
"You're stalling."
"I'm trying to save the book." She said defensively.
"I don't care."
"You know Jen wants to cancel my library card for excess of delays.”
“Are you?” she repeated, receiving more nonsenses about books and libraries.
“If I show up to return a book looking like this, she will gut me alive,"
"Elain Marie Archeron,” Nuala stretched every name individually, “if don't answer me in the next second I swear to God I'll bitch slap you." The more friend tried to play her; the more stressed Nuala felt. Last night she had the heart attack of her life. Elain, Feyre and Nuala had gone to the movies, the kid who was always glued to her sister tagging along, appealing for his case with an offer to drive them. Nuala was suspecting he had a crush on the younger Archeron, but when she went to share her theory with her friend, she caught him kissing Elain when he thought no one was watching.
“So?" she pressed?
“I’m not.” Elain couldn’t look more guilt if she tried.
“Care explain why he was cleaning your teeth with his tongue last night?”
Elain gulped. "I'm dating him, okay? He asked me on a date, called me his girlfriend, took me to his aunt's house and I feel in love with his crazy ass."
"Girl!"
"What?" Elain asks defensively. "You were always nagging me about finding a boyfriend, now I have you. Case closed."
Unbelievable. Nuala dropped herself on the other chair, taking a sip of Elain's coffee, nothing but air going up the straw.
"Girl, when you went all mysterious on me, I thought, like, you had a fling with that cute guy from Finances or something, not like, a goddamn kid!"
"He’s not a kid. He’ll finish school soon." Elain says defensively.
"Yeah, but you are here surrounded by hot college guys and he's there, doing math homework or something."
"I'm doing math homework." Azriel’s current status was a sensitive topic to her. In the beginning she was weird out for being crushing on a younger boy, she couldn’t even kiss him, their PDA revolving around lots of hand holding and long, long, hugs.
"Don't play coy with me Elain, or I swear to God," Nuala threatens. The farther the conversation went, the closer she felt to lose her shit. Now their plans to go on double blind dates had gone to shit. "A freaking high schooler. I can't believe you."
"What's the big deal? Guys date high schoolers all the time."
"Gross."
"Shut up, he's almost my age, and next year he'll be in college too." Elain sighed.
Why was she being condemned for finally having a boyfriend? Damned if she did, damned if she didn't. She packed her stuff, annoyed with Nuala's judgment. The two friends had always had similar views of life, so Nuala bashing her wasn't really a surprise. Still, Elain didn't like having someone else pointing fingers at her dating life. Nuala, who couldn't take a hint to save her life, choose to follow her outside the coffee shop.
"I'm not judging you." She said keeping up with Elain, who squinted, holding her bag like a shield. "I'm not. I was just... Surprised. I never pegged you for a cougar."
"Oh, fuck off."
He best friend's laughter echoed, attracting attention from the passerby. Elain bumped her hips against hers, urging her to quiet down. "I hate you."
"Samesies," Nuala said winking to a guy walking his dog.
"I can't believe you have a boyfriend and didn't tell me. Low blow Elain. How long is this going on? Did you popped his cherry?” She wiggled her brows, laughing when Elain tripped.
“Oh my god.”
“You did, didn’t you?”
“I did not!”
“Bummer. So, what do you guy do? Kiss?” She grimaced.
Elain blushed. “What’s wrong with kissing.”
Nuala’s shoulders went up and down.
“Depends on how long you’ve been dating. Tell me everything.”
Elain bite her lip, muttering about lack of boundaries, considering how much she wanted to share in a place so open. In the end, she settled for the most superficial topics to use as bait for Nuala to leave her alone. The problem was once she started talking about Az, she couldn't stop, her annoyed face melting into a sappy one, her cheeks hurting from smiling, her hands gesticulating in the air for emphasis.
Elain told her friend all about her secret, which she miraculously been able to keep for six months! Nuala was extremely surprised with that information. She had always been an expert to coax the truth out of people, especially Elain, who she knew since kindergarten, but this time Elain was able to keep her out of her mind.
Nuala started hitting her arm with playful punches, her voice a tone too sweet.
"O. M. G. You're glowing. Stop that! You stop that now."
"I can't," Elain smiled at her. "I really like him."
"I can see that. God, who'd have imagined the Ice Princess had a thing for frail skinny teens."
"Nuala!"
"What? You're the one preying on the poor defenseless souls." She made the sign of the cross.
Elain shook her head, incredulous. Poor defenseless soul? Who? He boyfriend?! What a joke.
“Pfff, my Az is anything but defenseless. I swear to God, that boy came out without an "off" button, he manages to have energy than Feyre.”
Nuala stopped on her track, whirling to Elain.
"Energetic? Azriel? That quiet kid who hang with your little sister, always sketching gore pictured in his notebooks, that Azriel?"
"The one and only."
"That kid doesn't have one energetic bone in his body, Elain."
"You'd be surprised." Elain answered wiggling her brows, Nuala pretending to stick a finger on her throat and gagging.
"I've changed my mind, I don't want to know everything. I can't believe you are in love."
They reached their classroom, Elain sliding on the chair beside her, slamming her head on the desk with a sigh. "I know, I can't believe it either. I hate him."
Nuala rolled her eyes.
"No, you don't"
"No, I don't." Elain straightened up, smiling like a goofy idiot, releasing another torrent of fast words to praise her twig of a boyfriend. "His hair is so fluffy, I just want to touch it all day long. He looks so cute when he gets all mad about being younger than me, his cheeks go all shades of red. And he is so nice to me Nuala, even his parents like me. He introduced me to his folks before we even went on a date, what kind of teenage boy does that?"
"Ho-ly-shit."
Elain nodded in agreement
"My exact reaction. When we left the mansion, because that place is way too big to be called a house, I tried to choke him to death. Do you know what that smug bastard said to me? "She'll be your mother-in-law 'Lain, might as well get comfy from now." He's confident he'll marry me."
"That kid is hilarious."
The conversations around them died down when their favorite professor walked into the room, Tarquin's piercing turquoise eyes roaming until they found Nuala's grey ones. She winked at him.
"I'm going to bang him." She announced with confidence. Elain's eyes darted from her to the professor, shaking her head in denial.
"You're playing with fire, Nu."
"Nope, pretty sure he is a water sign. He got the vibes."
They chuckled, ending the gossip session and fishing their textbooks, Elaine's with big brown spots and glued pages. Shit. She would have to buy a book and donated it to the library, wouldn't she?
She groaned silently.
Goodbye sweet august paycheck, it was nice dreaming about you.
+
“Don’t look!” He stressed for the hundredth time, hands covering her eyes.
“I’m not looking.”
“I’ll know if you look.”
“Dude! My eyes are closed down here.”
Azriel kicked something out of the way, probably a spray can from the noise of it heating the wall. They walk a few more steps, Elan going slowly, afraid of the unknown path, Azriel behind her, stirring her in the right direction. He’d grown a tad taller than her since they’ve met, not letting her forget about it for one measly second, constantly supporting his chin on the top of her head. According to him that was a "power move" to let her know who was the boss. The purple spots on his ribs, from the many times she elbowed him after listening to that nonsense, told her exactly who was the boss.
“Okay, keep it closed," he took his hands off, repeating, "don't cheat!” one last time before his body heat disappear. Elain stood by herself with her eyes closed, the faint noise of the air conditioner her only company. She jumped when sometimes heavy scratched the floor, Azriel screaming "not yet," as she was about to open her eyes.
Large hands encased her waist, long skilled fingers intertwining over her belly, her cropped shirt granting him easy access to her skin. Elain relaxed against his chest, breathing deeply. She could scent the expensive paint, his vibrant perfume, and the delectable woodsy fragrance that always seemed to impregnate his body.
Azriel kissed her hair thrice – his lucky numb. "Okay, on the count of three."
She cleared her throat, imagining herself as an announcer.
"One."
"Two."
"Three."
The place was familiar.
Elain was accustomed with classroom he, Feyre and four more students shared as a makeshift studio. Under normal circumstances she would not be allowed to wander their school as much as she did, but dating the principal's "favorite son" (Az's words, not hers) came with its perks. Sometimes she would free her morning to come sit on a corner and watch two of her favorite people in the whole world working, not understanding squat about their creative process, smiling at the few shared jokes, sending Azriel kisses every time he winked her way.
This room was usually a mess, the six work tables spread around filled with materials, canvas from different sizes sitting against the wall, half-finished paintings and sculptures visible in every corner. Today the place was different, incredibly clean, not an unfinished work in sight, only a medium-sized canvas resting peacefully in a wood tripod.
Elain gasped, hands flying to her mouth, eyes bulging out.
The painting exposed a tattooed naked lady, stretching her arms up in the air with a serene expression. Elain recognized the pattern instantly.
In front of her was an artsy redemption of Fibonacci's Sequence. The girl on the painting was throwing her body back, arching herself in a way her spine followed the curve Fibonacci's spiral in the mockery of an elegant stretch, her long brown hair cascading towards the lateral of the canvas, the curls vanishing where no longer white screen ended. Her naked body gleamed with thousands of small dark-blue spirals, that at first glance could be mistaken by careless tattoos, the form actually being clever repetitions of the bigger arc.
She was speechless.
"Do you like it?" Azriel asked after a while, his voice so small and fragile she felt her heart strain. Her over confident lover boy was hardly one to feel insecure, his rare doubts usually linked to his desire to please her. Elain covered his hands with hers nodding her head vehemently.
Her eyes watered. Elain wasn't an art specialist but this was this was the prettiest painting she had seen in her life. Her mind drifted to a couple months back when she was gushing about her exciting college life, how she was loving to delve deeper into math, how number where intrinsically connected to life.
"You're shitting me," Azriel had protested, his head laying on her lap. "Art is connected to life baby, not math." He had the special ability to make the word “math” sound like an insult.
"Na-an. Math gives life." She argued.
"Math can't give life. Art gives life, art is the soul of a human. What the fuck numbers have to do with life?
Elain ran her fingers through his soft hair, yanking it hard when he cursed again, calling him a "potty mouth."
"Have you studied Fibonacci's sequence yet?"
"Who?"
"Fi-bo-na-cci." She repeated slowing, tugging his hair with every syllabus just for the hell of it. "How are you passing your classes?"
"Using my delightful charms at my advantage, just like I did with you. Who was the guy?"
"He was an incredibly talented mathematician,"
"Like you?" He interrupted her with a wink.
"Better. He created a numerical sequence where you can find the next number by adding up the two antecedents to it. The sequence allows one to see mathematical logic, the perfect connection of numbers with nature."
"I don't get it." His confused face was so cute, Elain wished she had a camera to snap a picture. She pinched his cheek.
"Fibonacci’s sequence prime objective is to bring forth the scientific beauty of perfection, is the perfect reflection of order and organization."
Azriel was grimacing as someone who has a massive stomachache, his forehead creased as he tried to understand how the heck math could be beautiful. "You lost me."
Elain smiled down at his puppy face. "I noticed."
"Why does a guy look for beauty in math? Girls are way better. I much rather dedicate my time to learn your curves than stupid numbers." Elain flicked his forehead. "Come on! Have anyone ever told how violent you are?"
"No, tell me."
She traced his glorious thick eyebrows, following the shape of his nose all the way to the bow of his upper lip, Azriel puckering them to kiss the tip of her finger again and again.
That day he was so confused while she talked, now he was here showing her a gorgeous painting inspired by their conversation. The mind of an artist worked in mysterious ways.
"There’s an artist I like," Azriel's baritone broke her thoughts. "Elisa Breton. She has these amazing surrealist paintings, the strokes on the canvas so vivid you can feel her unconscious taking form. I envied her for it. I couldn’t get personal with my art before, my paintings didn’t reflect me. “They lack soul,” my teachers would scold me, “There’s no passion, Z." It used to drive me mad. I thought it was impossible to express myself when there’s so much I wished to say about the world and society in general." Azriel rested his chin on her shoulder, his smile palpable, his voice mellow and passionate. “Then a met a cute brunet who takes space in my mind all day long.”
Elain sighed deeply, flipping her hair on his face. “Is not my fault you are completely in love with me.”
“It totally is. I can’t look at numbers without imagining your sixes and your nines,"
"Azriel!" She untangled from him with a couple of punches, aiming for his stool to park her ass, Azriel following her lead and sitting on the other free one.
"Anyways. I figure if couldn’t stop thinking about you I had to push you out somehow.”
“Gee, so romantic.”
“I have things to do, woman! The art world won’t conquer itself.”
“Yeah, yeah, keeping talking about how I’m disturbing your gran plans.” Azriel dragged his stool closer, the wood rasping on the floor. He braced his hands on her thighs and bite her cheek. “Ah!”
“You puff your cheeks when you pout.”
“I wasn’t pouting.” Elain rubbed her cheek, eyes going back to the painting, the meticulous details giving her goosebumps. "This is truly beautiful Az. I mean it."
"The power of my muse." Elain snorted, cleaning the tears from her eyes.
“I can’t believe you used math properly.”
"Your faith in me is astonishing. For me, number don't mean a fancy sequence that I can't wrap my head around. For me, numbers mean you."
Elain craned her neck to grin at him.
"You did find beauty in numbers after all."
Azriel rolled his eyes.
"I know. I was shocked too."
"Does it have a name?"
"Autumn's Fall."
“Why Autumn’s Fall?”
“That's when we've met, you know?” He kissed the corner of her mouth, warm lips lingering on her skin, Elain melting in his arms. "We've meet in autumn and then I fell for you."
Her lips curve upwards, her heart thumping like crazy.
"You're such an artist."
He wheezes, "thank you.” Azriel pushed back, bracing his elbows on the table behind him. "I have news."
"More?"
"More. Remember Cinthia Hawthorne?"
"The art curator?"
Azriel nods. "The one and only. She’s opening a new gallery, she wants to expose young talents into the market. The Palace of Youth. Cinthia wants to launch twenty-five new artists. It's an ambitious project, but she is confident about succeeding.” He paused for dramatic effect, enjoying the fact that Elain was playing attention to him, hanging on his words. "And she wants to expose my art there."
"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God."
Elain jumped from her chair so fast he barely had time to catch her, his stool tumbling backwards, Azriel lading on his back with a painful noise, the feeling subsiding once she started to fill every inch of his face with kisses.
Elain grabbed his cheeks, moving his head from side to side, her smile making him feel like his own face was about to split in two. “That’s a good think, right? Like, real artist stuff.”
“Very good, very real.”
She sat on top of him, clapping like an excited little girl who was allowed to eat unlimited candy, celebrating with a made-up song. "My boyfriend is gonna be ri-ich, he's gonna have mo-oo-ney, oh yeah,"
“I am rich.” Azriel scoffed. "I'm a trust fund baby."
"You parents money doesn’t count. Rii-ii-iich, mo-ney, mo-neeey.” she danced on top of him, Azriel bracing his hands behind his head to avoid touching her. Another day of testing his limits. He knew she was kidding about being happy because of money, the hardest task in his life was making Elain accept his gifts.
Elain wiggled again, and Azriel couldn’t hold his tongue any longer.
"Should I expect a lap dance every time I sell a painting, too? Because if so, I'm going to be a very determined artist."
She stopped dancing, landing her hands on his stomach. When Elain looked down, Azriel could instantly read the request in her beautiful brown eyes. He did his best to conquer his nervousness, slowly placing his hands on her waist, heat emanating between them. "I'm going to kiss you," he warns evenly "Say no if don't want me to."
Elain couldn't say a world if she wanted. If she was being honest, Elain no idea about what healthy intimacy looked like. Her parents had been a disaster, her mother feel in love with a wannabe rock singer and left home when she was seven, her dead was an alcoholic who couldn't not differentiate day from night, her older sister considered herself heartless. But none of that mattered when she was with Azriel. He made her feel safe, wanted, loved. She closed her eyes and bent down, stopping a breath short from his mouth, brave enough to start asking for his kisses, but not yet brave enough to take them herself.
Under her, Azriel was shaking, his hands trembling as he upped on to her cheek, closing his eyes, Elain delicious minty breath fanning his lips. He moved forward, anticipation making his heart gallop like a racing horse, bumping his nose on hers,
"E-LA-IN!"
Feyre loud yell bloomed around them, Elain shoving Azriel away, getting up do fast she accidentally stepped on little Az. His soul left his body, which rolled to the side under a curse and a painful growl.
The youngest Archeron didn't spare him a glance, running straight to her sister, jumping on her, the fresh paint in her overall smearing all over Elain's white shirt, her euphoric speech delivering her own special news.
"A rich lady wants to put my art where other rich ladies will want to buy my art!" Feyre's laugh was contagious, Elain hugging her tight as her feet went back to the ground. "Are you proud? Are you proud? Tell me you are proud!" She asks with gleaming eyes.
“I’m so proud Fey, you are the best artist I know. You are going to be the best artist in the world.”
“Hey!” Azriel intervened with a raspy voice, blindly searching for the stool to help him up.
Feyre pointed a finger at his face. “Suck it Shadowloser, I'm the best." She turned to Elain grabbing her hand, "Can we surprise Nesta on her lunch break? I want to give her the news."
+
The mattress dips besides him, a hand ruffles his hair, lovely stroking it until he was purring, snuggling on the comforter.
"Azriel…" A kiss on his forehead, "Az," a kiss on his cheek, "wake up," a kiss on his jaw.
“What time is it?" He grumbled.
Elaine's soft voice traveled to him, the sound like a caress on his ear. "One-minute past midnight." A lethal one.
"Christ, what are you waking me for? What's wrong?"
He couldn’t remember the last time he slept, his latest project taking every minute of his day.
"You mean, "what's right"?" Azriel peeled on eye open as she clicked the bed side table lamp to life, the yellow glow illuminating Elain, his girlfriend all bright eyes and white teeth, and,
What the heck was she wearing?
"You're officially legal!" Elain exclaimed, shaking him up, then she was blowing a party blower, the tip of it hitting his nose.
"Jesus Christ."
Azriel reeled back, rubbing the sleep way to separate the foggy dream from reality, thinking he might still be asleep to see her like that. He blinked. Nothing changed. Nope, not a dream, Elain was really wearing that. His gaze dipped to her legs going all to way up to her hair, inspecting the green stocking matching her green gloves, a dark green bodysuit matching her lipstick, and a cheap red wig, her brown roots visible where she was scratching her head.
"Here's your gift." She slapped something on his chest –the calendar he gave her years ago, opened on the last page, big black arrows pointing at the date he drew a bunch of hearts around. Elain tapped her index on the indecent male on the bottom, purring. "Flex for me, Az. Flex as if you were one of my french girls."
He snorted, placing the calendar on his pillow and going to his closet. "No, come back to bad! I waited years to crack this joke."
"Wait a minute. Since when are gift giving, I have one for you too."
He rummaged throw his coats, letting out a triumphant sound when his finger closed around the familiar object.
"Close your eyes and open you hand." He instructed Elain, who crossed her arms over her chest, looking annoyed as she eyed his pants.
"I'm not falling for that again."
"Get you head off the gutter, Archeron." He screeched, feigning being outraged, sitting with her. "Come one baby, do it for me."
"The pants stay on." She warned with killing glare.
"The pants stay on," he reported after her, complementing with, "for now."
Elain rolled her eyes, unable to hide the smirk trying to break free. With a resigned breath she did as she was told, extending both hands to tease him. "It's better be bigger than last time," she whispered diabolically, winning a bite in her wrist. "Oi!"
"Shhh." Azriel turned her palm up, placing a light weight on top of it, something cold, squared. "Open up."
Her brain shut down, her body paralyzed for complete at the sight of the opened velvet box, a sparkling engagement ring resting on the inside, the teardrop sapphire nearly blinding her with its beauty. "What do you think? Do you want to put it on?"
Elain breathed an ugly sound that was half cry, half laughter
"That's – what you said – the last time," she sobbed shaking her hand in front of his face, trembling as he slid the ring on her finger, kissing it before releasing her.
Elain didn't want to be released. She jumped on him, making a mess of his night shirt with snot and tears. Azriel held her fiercely, his hand going up and down her back to sooth her. When Elain pulled one of her gloves and used it to blow her nose, he finally asked her the real important question.
"Baby, what the hell are you wearing?"
The man he drew on her calendar had nothing on but some ivy vines snaked around his naughty bits, so Elain though it was a good idea to be his counterpart, a modest version of him since didn't want to risk his flat mate walking on her on the nude.
“I’m Poison Ivy,” she hiccupped adjusting her wig, his body shaking under her.
"I love you."
"I love you"
With a kiss, Azriel gently pushed Elain to her back, holding his weight on top of her, that's when she decided to dump a bucket of cold water on top of his head. "We won't marry until you graduate."
"My God woman, you are obsessed with my education!" Azriel fell back on the bed, letting his best dramatic sigh out.
They started a heated discussing, Azriel pleading an education was irrelevant to be married, that an artist was established once he started selling painting, which he already did, not when he received a piece of paper from college. In counterpart, Elain pleaded she was piece-of-paper-enthusiast, and that she wanted to hang his degrees all over their house.
Azriel said he wouldn't graduate just to spite her.
Elain said she wouldn't sleep with him just to spite him.
They started another argument, this one moved to the kitchen since she was hungry, Azriel offering to cook, Elain kissing him and helping to sort the ingredients.
It was going to be a long night
- the end -
