A headcanon I have is Elain having a mini panic attack everytime Lucien is introduced into the room, and yet she compartmentalizes all of it perfectly. Gives herself a little pep talk—keep the peace. Make it look seamless. Blend in.
One particular bad day though, she’s invited down for tea with him. Elain halts in front of the door; stares at the handle, mentally forcing herself to twist it but her hand just won’t budge.
Open it, her mind screams.
Fingers hover, shaking, begging.
“You don’t have to go in,” A quiet voice interrupts her spiraling from behind.
Of course, Azriel. The male lingers in quiet corners like it’s a personal habitat.
“If you don’t want to, don’t go in.”
She doesn’t turn but a subtle burn accumulates against her eyes. How easily he notices stuff. How easy it is for him to read her body language.
Suddenly, there’s a warm presence at her back. Gentle as a breeze, Azriel tugs the fabric of her skirt twice. To say hey. I’m here. It was their little secret.
Emotion clogs her throat. “I …”
“What do you need?” says the soft, soothing timbre of his voice.
No one asks her that but him.
To remind her she has a choice.
“I,” But the thoughts are stuck just like her hovering hand. Like her.
“Say the word and I can fly us out. Just nod.”
She reluctantly shakes her head.
“All right,” He sighs. “All right. Do you need a moment?”
“Do you want me to leave you alone?”
“Good. I wasn’t going anywhere.”
Elain’s hand drops, and his clenches by his side.
“Can I … ” Az hesitates, “Can I offer you a hug?”
Say yes. Please, say yes.
Elain gives him the smallest of nods, as if asking something for herself was truly bothersome—a burden.
Yet, as soon as her chin dips, Azriel’s forearm slides against her clothed collarbone, pulling her into him, his chest flush against her back, like it’s the surest, easiest thing he’s ever done. His other arm locks on top of the one holding her, grounding not just her but him as well.
“Ellie Rose.” He whispers her middle name like the secret it is, and instinctively, a knot loosens inside, “You are okay. You will be okay, I promise.”
Elain reaches back, looping a pinky through one of his belt loops.
Words. In his arms, she finds words.
“You can,” He echoes. “Just know that it can’t happen to you until you let it.”
Elain tugs the loop like he tugged her skirt. Twice. “And you will be right outside?”
“Not going anywhere, remember?”
They stay just like that, him with his arms around her from behind and her hanging onto his belt loop like the saving grace it was.
Elain squares her shoulders, and steps out of his embrace, turning to face him. Midair, a shadow flickers in between them.
“At any point you feel like there’s too much noise,” soft fingers reach up to curl a strand of hair behind her ear, tinkling her earring in the process, “Just flick this little thing. Shadow will know.”
The shadow disappears in Elain’s hair.
Her doe eyes stare and stare at him, drowning in the strength of his unwavering gaze. “Okay.”