Linen Writes

The two girls continued on and he turned back to his breakfast only to find that his appetite had suddenly vanished. He didn't know why he had expected anything different but he felt his stomach falling with his mood. 

The silence had stretched on and on over the summer months. Severus had written her through muggle post and by owl  but, when the letters remained unanswered, he had shown up at her front door. He had prepared himself for Petunia having grown used to her scorn and thinly veiled jealousy over the years. What Severus had not expected was Mr. Evans to open the door, Mrs. Evans behind him in the hallway, both of their faces lined with anger. They had remained polite, as always, but told him in no uncertain terms that he was not welcome. He could still hear the slam of the door weeks later. 

For three long months, he had endured his father's taunts and his mother's tears, clinging to the hope that things would be different once they returned to Hogwarts.

Apparently, though, nothing had changed.

"Would you look at that!" Avery exclaimed, "We got a free period now!" 

Severus turned to his friend who was pouring over their schedule for the year. Slughorn had been round a few minutes ago to deliver them to the new sixth years. 

"I'm jealous, I wish I could go back to bed." Mulciber, who was one year their junior, added. His words were punctuated by a yawn. 

Despite his mood, Severus couldn't stop his lips twisting into a slight smile. "Stop drooling over Bella and maybe you'll get a good nights sleep for once this year." 

His eyes glanced over at the fourth year sitting at the opposite end of the table, her dark hair as wild and unruly as the girl beneath it. 

"Says the pricks still pining after the same Mudblood since his first year." Mulciber muttered, eyes flicking to where Lily had just disappeared.

Anger coursed through Severus, causing his blood to pulse through his veins. He opened his mouth and he prepared to curse his friend, unsure if it would be it magical or in words alone, when he felt a warm hand fall on his shoulder.

"Are you still planning on coming by the potions room early today, my boy?" Severus turned, knowing it was Slughorn before his eyes met the head of his house.

"Yes, sir." Severus said, his ears still pink with rage.

"Brilliant, brilliant." Slughorn muttered, eyes skirting around the Great Hall. "By chance, do you know if Miss Evans will be joining you this morning?"

Severus felt Avery and Mulciber's stare, the weight heavy on him as he fought to keep his cool, indifferent tone. 

"No, nor do I care." He bit out. 

Slughorn's eyebrows furrowed.  "My dear boy, there is no need for such hostility just because she scored higher than you in your OWLs."

Sev felt his stomach sink. He hadn't known she had beaten his score. 

"You're right, Professor." He ground out, his ears practically burning as Mulciber snickered. 

There was a soft thud and then Mulciber let out a soft groan. Avery had undoubtedly kicked Mulciber in the shin. 

Severus knew Slughorn had no malice in his words, simply bringing up the longstanding bet he and Lily had been waging against one another since their first year but his words still stung. That pain was now laced with a new sort of shame though, overwhelmingly, one word still clanged around his head. 

Mudblood.

Mudblood.

Mudblood.

To his credit, Slughorn looked mildly embarrassed for once in his life. Perhaps, Severus thought bitterly, you finally realized it is inappropriate to discuss test scores with other students?

"Yes, well," Slughorn cleared his throat, "I'll be in my office till our class after lunch. Preparing for the New Term party and what not. Which reminds me.." Slughorn pulled a piece of decorated parchment out of the front pocket of his robe, the details for the first meeting of the 'Slug Club' written in a perfect, looping script. 

Severus nodded in confirmation as he read over the details. Mulciber piped up, "Let me know if you need any help, professor." 

Slughorn's eyes glanced over Mulciber, showing him as much interest as he would one of the countless threadbare chairs in the library.

It was petty, because Sev usually considered Mulciber a friend even with the tension that had hung over them throughout breakfast, but his chest swelled with pleasure at the look of defeat and longing in Mulciber's eyes as he watched Slughorn exit the Great Hall.

Severus snickered. 

"Don't look so smug. It wasn't too long ago that he was calling you Sylvester."

Sev shrugged, keeping that well practiced mask of indifference plastered on his face as he stood. He wouldn't give Mulciber the satisfaction to know that a fresh wave of shame was crashing over him at the reminder. Instead, he waggled the piece of parchment, the silver embossment glittering in the candlelight, "Jealousy doesn't look good on you, Mulciber." 

"Are you really going down to the dungeons?" Avery asked, eyebrows raised in disbelief. 

Severus nodded, "Yeah, he wasn't joking about my potions score. I got an O but I know I can do better." 

Avery shook his head but didn't press the matter further so Severus made his way down to the potions dungeon. 

Years ago, he would have relaxed the moment he entered the space, letting the smell of various ingredients and the remnants of finished potions assault his nostrils. This place had been a safe haven for him, a refuge from the chaos and insanity that was Hogwarts. Here, he could hide amid the cauldrons but he had never been alone.

No.

This had been a place for he and Lily. No matter how different they seemed on the outside, the two of them had solidified their friendship amongst the simmering potions. 

She always looked so beautiful.

His heart skipped a beat as he thought of the wisps of her hair falling loose from her ponytail as she sliced ingredients or the way her face, shining with sweat, would light up in awe as a potion would subtly change with each stir.

Before her, Severus had never thought of potions as being magical. He had thought it was just glorified cooking until he had heard her speak. Her words were more magical than anything, anything, that came out of one of these cauldrons. He knew that nothing would ever compare to the way her green eyes would spark in excitement and wonder as she discussed how subtle changes could strengthen or destroy the potions integrity and stability completely. Sev rolled his neck. He had to get to work if he expected to make any headway before their first lesson.

Hours later, Severus stood beaming at his text book.

He had made mistakes. The skin on his left forearm was still raw from the green flames that had erupted from the black potion as he put too much Valerian root in. But still, he had made progress that he was proud of. 

Other students filed in.

Avery slid into the seat next to him and handed him a sandwich as a greeting.

Sev's eyes went wide and he began to take large bites.

"Thanks." He managed between mouthfuls.

Avery just chuckled. "I figured you'd be hungry. You barely touched your breakfast and being down here through lunch..."

Avery trailed off when Lily entered, his eyes narrowing at her and Potter. Sev was less than pleased to see that she didn't look all that annoyed by his presence. In fact, she almost looked upset when he didn't take the seat on the bench next to her. 

He watched as she turned to Abigal once more, a faint flush on her cheeks.

Mercifully, Slughorn bounded into the room. 

"Welcome, welcome, to the first course of your N.E.W.T. potions. I'm not going to waste your time. Scales, cauldrons, and books out! Turn to page ten of Advanced Potion-Making. We are making the Draught of Living Death. Best one gets fifty points to their house."

They all stared at him.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Time's already started!" He exclaimed. 

Everyone started moving at once, chairs scraping against the stone floor as they all rushed to get ingredients.

Severus was feeling smug, alright. 

He had gotten a tip from one of the seventh years that Slughorn always started this course out with the Draught of Living Death and a 'friendly' competition. Severus began to work on his ingredients, tipping things in and stirring as called for. Nearly forty minutes had passed and, by the random updates being shouted out by Slughorn, he and Lily were neck and neck. When he got to the velarian root, he pulled out a silver knife and pressed it along the side. He heard a soft chuckle from beside him as Avery watched the shriveled thing produce more juice than seemed reasonable. 

"You're something else, Sev. Share your notes with me once this is done, yeah?" "Always." Severus said with a wink. 

Severus scooped up the juice and carefully poured it into the cauldron. The effect was immediate. 

The potion, which had just been black as night, turned a lovely shade of lilac. "Oh-ho!" Slughorn shouted, "Looks like Mr. Snape is the furthest along now!" 

He couldn't help himself, he looked over towards Lily and met her gaze. She scowled before turning back to her own cauldron. 

Severus knew he should get back to work but his eyes were fixed on her. She had already added in the velarian root juice and had begun to stir. He watched intently as she stirred seven times counterclockwise. There was a slight pause and he watched as she straightened her shoulders. She stirred once clockwise.

Nothing exploded.

Lily began to stir faster, seven counterclockwise, one clockwise.

Severus jotted down the note in his textbook before even trying it himself. Seven was a magical number, after all, and the two of them had found that it either lead to utter chaos or improved results in potion making. There was no in between, though. 

If the Draught of Living Death was going to have a bad reaction to the clockwise stir, it would have already happened.

He repeated the motion, seven counterclockwise stirs, one clockwise. The potion turned from lilac to pale pink. 

Severus beamed. 

"Times up!" Slughorn shouted. 

He walked around from cauldron to cauldron, shaking his head with a laugh once he finished. 

With a wave of his wand, both Severus and Lily's cauldrons floated to the front of the room. The whole class remained silent as Slughorn looked between them.

"Perfect, perfect as always you two." He beamed at them both. "I did say I would decide on a winner and, this time, I have to go with Severus. The coloring in both is textbook but Mr. Snape's has the most incredible iridescent quality. Frankly, I don't think I have ever seen it done quite so well in my life. Fifty points to Slytherin!"

Avery clapped him on the back while the other Slytherin's burst into applause. He was still being congratulated as they filed out of the dungeon classroom. Severus was looking over his shoulder, not paying attention, when he ran straight into someone. 

"How?"

Lily was standing there, arms crossed over her chest. Abigail was standing on the steps behind her with Potter at her side. 

Her eyes flicked towards his copy of Advanced Potion-Making tucked beneath his arm and he shifted it into his bag. She knew of his habit to scribble notes in the corner. 

"Move along, Evans." Avery said, voice low with warning. 

Lily glanced at Avery once before turning back to Severus. She starred him for a long moment before she turned on her heal, red hair fanning out behind her. 

"Don't let her ruin this for you." Avery muttered as the pair began walking up the stairs together. "You're a great potion maker, you never needed her help. You don't owe her a damn thing." 

Severus nodded but his heart was racing. 

An idea began to formulate in his head. He began digging through his bag, looking for his schedule so he could see the next time they had a free period. 

He bit his lip. Not until Thursday but their next potions class would be Wednesday.

No matter.

He would go down tomorrow evening, perhaps even tonight.  He would wake up early and skip meals if he had to.

Hell, he would live in the damned dungeon if that's what it took. 

Hope bloomed in his chest. Lily had spoken to him. 

Elain sidestepped him easily enough and began taking long strides towards the coffee shop.

All of Elain's energy was focused on him behind her. She tried to identify his footsteps from the other pedestrians, ears pricking at each frustrated huff he let out.

He didn't speak during the duration of their walk nor while they waited in the queue. The only time he had truly made his presence known was when he made to grab for his wallet. Elain let loose a sound of disgust as she batted his hand away. 

The barista raised her eyebrows in concern at Elain. She was a regular and was friendly with the woman. Elain shook her head minutely before rolling her eyes. The barista chuckled slightly as Azriel crossed his arms but he remained silent still. 

They were now walking back to her apartment. Elain sipped on her drink as she considered her options.

She could always slam the door in his face once they got back to her apartment though he would likely just sit there again, waiting for her to come out.

She knew the words that she could spit at him that would make him walk away and never look back. Elain shook her head slightly. Even now, she couldn't bare the thought of striking such a blow. 

Azriel opened the door to the building and Elain breezed past him inside without so much a nod of gratitude.

She slid her key into the lock and opened the door, holding it open and gesturing him inside. 

It looks like they were doing this.

There was a stab of pain in her heart as she looked at him. He moved towards the spot on the sofa that he normally occupied with a familiarity that he had earned but now seemed so misplaced. How many times had she sat beside him, feet in his lap or curled up in a blanket as they watched TV or talked until her lavender and lemon candles burned out? 

It had all felt so right back then. Now it was messing with her head about how flipping wrong it was. 

Part of Elain wanted to sit beside him once again. She could say that they could forget her silly little confession so they could go back to the way things were.

But that was impossible. She knew that. 

Instead, she sat in the floral armchair that served as her coat rack during the fall and winter months when she was too lazy to take the few extra steps to the hooks in the wall. 

He looked at her and she looked back, taking the opportunity to really take him in.

She was struck by him. He was beautiful, he always had been, but his eyes were dull. There were bags under those dull eyes that normally weren't present. His skin, which normally was a warm bronze had an ashen hewn to it and his clothes were rumpled from his time sleeping on the floor. 

All together, he looked rather unwell.

Good.

Elain sipped on her coffee.

"You said you wanted to talk?" 

He nodded before letting out a long breath she hadn't realized he had been holding. 

"Why were you dancing with Eris Vansera last night?"

Elain blinked. Of all the questions he could have asked…

"I wasn't." She answered slowly. 

Memories of the previous night came back to her. She had danced with someone briefly before she got sick but it hadn't been Eris.

Right?

Her hands began to shake at the possibility. 

She hadn't seen the man's face. The man had grabbed her and she had let him.

"Oh god." She muttered, a hand flying to her neck in horror. 

"It's okay, it's okay." He looked like he was about to stand but thought better of it. Azriel leaned forward, leaning his elbows against his knees. "Feyre said she didn't think you knew it was him. I just needed to know."

His words cut through her disgust and horror like a knife. 

"'Needed to know'," she repeated. "Do you really think so little of me, Azriel?" 

"No. God, no, Elain." His face had fallen in horror but she wasn't having it.

"Get out." She stood up, "I don't need this from you, Azriel. I haven't spoken to you in weeks and I don't need you accusing me of this." 

Elain walked out of the living room and into the kitchen. 

"Yeah, and whose fault is that?" He retorted, voice raised as he followed her. Elain whirled on him.

"What do you want from me? I told you that I loved you, you said you didn't want me. I am not going to be like-" She stopped herself, physically holding up her hand to stop herself from saying anything more.

"To be like what, Elain?" Azriel seethed at her.

"To be like you!" She exploded, "I'm not going to pine after you for years. I love you. I love you so much that it drives me crazy half the time but I will not be some lovesick fool, wasting my life loving someone who doesn't love me back. I deserve more than that and, goddamn it, so do you." 

She didn't know when the tears started falling but by the end, they were coming so hard that she could barely get the words out. Elain ran her fingers through her hair and she pulled on the strands. 

Maybe she was mad, after all.

Azriel stepped forward and she held up a hand again, stepping back so she was pressing herself into the counter.

"Don't, don't touch me. Please." Her voice broke on the last word. 

She wanted him to ignore her, to step forward and sweep her up into his arms. She wanted him to get the hell out of her apartment and never see him again. 

In typical Azriel fashion, he did neither of the things she wanted. 

"Is that what you think of me, Elain?" He asked instead, voice quiet. 

His eyes were bloodshot. She had never seen him cry, never seen him get truly emotional. It tore her in two to see him so close to the edge now. After all he had endured and all her promises to never hurt him, here they stood.

Elain wiped her tears and took a deep breath before nodding.

"Yes. No. I'm not sure. I know it wasn’t fair for me to tell you how I felt. You've told me how you feel about her and I've seen the way you look at her. But I had to. I couldn't just live with it."

Azriel nodded slowly and Elain wiped her face again as she sniffled.

"Have you said everything you wanted to this time?" She asked quietly. 

Azriel let out a humorless laugh. "I haven't said anything I came here to." 

Elain waited, giving him the time to say whatever was so important. 

"I went to see Mor last night."

"Great, I'm second to her yet again." Elain couldn't help herself, the words tumbled out of her before they had even fully formed in her brain. 

"Can you just let me finish, Elain?" He breathed. 

She could tell he was trying to keep his temper on a leash, could see the fury burning behind his eyes.  Normally, Elain would fight back, tell him he had no right to speak to her in such a way but she was exhausted. 

Elain nodded.

"Thank you. I went to see her last night. I needed to ask her why she never came out and told me that she would never want me in the ways that I wanted her. I hurt you in the same ways she hurt me, I was just too much of an idiot to realize. 

"See, you're braver than I am, Elain. I knew for so goddamn long but I couldn't handle the rejection. Mor thought that I would eventually just get over it but as the years passed it became something, insurmountable or whatever. I think that's the way it felt for us both. I just got so used to the idea of being in love with her that it became a default setting for me."

"Why are you telling me this?" Elain breathed. 

"Because I need you to understand. I always thought she would come first for me, no matter what. But when Rhys told me last night that you had been with Eris," a chill raked down her spine at the name, "I knew I needed to see you. I knew. Every part of me wanted to be with you in ways that I have never felt for Mor. I needed to know that you were safe. It's why I was outside your door this morning. I let my mind run wild. Lucien had known where your apartment was so, what if, somehow Eris did too? It was ridiculous and domineering of me but I knew you wouldn't let me in and I couldn't stomach the thought that you were alone."

Elain didn't let the words register, not really.

"Azriel, I haven't heard from you in weeks. Even if I'm not your second choice, I don't want to be with someone who only contacts me because I crossed paths with a sociopath."

Rejection, then confusion, then dawning comprehension flashed across Azriel's face.

"You blocked my number."

It wasn't a question but she nodded slowly in confirmation. 

Azriel reached for his phone, punching in the passcode before handing it over to her.

It was pulled up to their text thread, the last sent message from yesterday afternoon. 

- You still mad?

She scrolled up. And up. And up.

Countless messages from the last few weeks. Some were just the word 'hi' while others were paragraphs long.

She didn't ask permission, just flipped over to his outbound call log to see the same thing. Call after call, all to her. 

Elain fell backwards into the counter, reaching a hand back to brace herself. 

She felt dizzy but there was still one final thing, one final question she needed to ask before she let down her walls completely. 

"You told me you didn't love me."

Azriel flinched. 

"I care for you, El." She felt her heart sink as she prepared for the rejection but he held up his hands. "I care about you and I never stopped. Even if we were just friends, I would still care about you.

"I want to try, you know? To see if this could be something. But you can't fault me for not wanting to slide a ring onto your finger right this second. I've been really pissed at you for cutting me out the last few weeks and I know I've hurt you." He sighed. "And I still have my commitment issues so if we are going to do this, I want to take it slow. Okay?"

Elain nodded, feeling slightly dumbfounded. "Yeah. Yeah, okay." 

Azriel sighed before pressing the palms of his hands to his eyes. 

"Now what?" Elain whispered and he just laughed. 

"Can we.. Can we just take a nap?"

Elain laughed too before reaching out her hand to intertwine their fingers to lead him back to her bedroom. 

As she curled in beside him, her head resting on his chest, she breathed in his scent. 

They were not in the clear just yet but Elain was willing to fight for him, to reforget the pain once more and try to make this into something wonderful. 

_____________________

AN: I have been sitting on this for weeks now. Part of me wanted to go all in with the angst but, each time I sat down to write it, I kept writing it in this way. 

I’m going to blame COVID and just not really having the emotional capacity to have more doom and gloom in my life right now. 

That being said.. I may return to this eventually. My favorite bit to write was part 1. I found it really interesting to explore a part of Elain we never really get to see in cannon. 

This was originally inspired by Reforget by Lauv, in case anyone is interested. 

I hope you all enjoyed. Thanks for sticking around. <3 

_____________________

Cass snorted, "Elain dragged them to some hole in the wall over in the west side. Nesta told me the bartender didn't know how to make a negroni. Needless to say, she’s less than enthused.” 

Azriel raised his eyebrows.

Not at the negroni comment, he never understood why Nesta liked them, but at the bar Elain had chosen. 

Cassian continued, "Since when has Elain gone to the west side anyway? After the whole negroni incident, Nesta said the bartender knew Elain by name. It’s weird, ain’t it?”

Azriel shrugged. It wouldn't be wise to open his mouth now. His anger towards the middle Archeron was flaring up again. Weeks of silence, of her not returning texts or calls, had frayed his nerves. He lifted his drink once more, hoping that Rhys would change the subject or that Cass would let it drop but Cassian pushed on, blunt as ever. 

"Are you going to tell us what the fuck is going on between the two of you? She disappeared off the face of the goddamn earth and you've been brooding ever since." 

Azriel worked to keep his face neutral. "Must you curse like a sailor the moment you get away from Nesta?" 

It was a well established fact that Nesta, despite having the ability to make even the crudest blush when she had a few drinks in her, abhorred Cassian cursing. And Cassian, who had sworn up and down his whole life that he would never change for a woman, did his best to accommodate whenever she was around.

All bets were off, though, the moment Nesta was out of earshot. 

"Seriously, man. I get if you can't talk about it because you don't want to betray her trust but is she okay? I miss her. She’s family and I miss her being around all the time." Cassian was practically pouting now. 

"She's fine." Az ground out. 

Rhys let out a long suffering sigh. "Not according to Feyre." 

"Just because she likes to hang out at a dive bar on occasion," Azriel started hotly but Rhys cut him off.

"It's not where she is at, its what she is doing."

There was a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

"What do you mean?" Azriel breathed. 

"She's drunk, as in 'can barely walk let alone walk in a straight line' drunk."

His voice remained steady but he knew that they were all thinking the same thing.

The news that anyone else in their friend circle was full on hammered wouldn’t have caused him to bat an eye. Sure, if it was Cass or Rhys, he would likely make their hangover a living hell but it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for them. They lived by the motto “work hard, play hard”.

But for Elain? For Miss. One-and-Done herself?

"She's an adult, she's allowed to cut loose with her sisters." Azriel answered tightly. 

Rhys shook his head as his phone lit up again with a series of messages. 

"She just left to go to the dance floor but Feyre talked to the bartender. Apparently this is normal behavior for her. Apparently he has been keeping an eye on her for weeks. He starts giving her watered down drinks when she gets too drunk which is, apparently, all the time." 

Azriel's heart was racing. 

"Is this because of Grayson?" Cassian mused, "She was a mess after they broke up. Maybe they are trying to make it work again. Or, tried and it failed."

I made my intentions clear, Elain. He had said to her.

Surely this didn’t have anything to do with that. It couldn’t. 

"Azriel?" 

Az blinked and refocused back on Rhys. 

"What?" He asked stupidly. 

"I asked you to, please, cut the shit and tell us what is going on. If Grayson is back in her life, fine. We can deal with that. I get why you wouldn't tell us because of how Feyre and Nesta would react but if it's something worse, we need to know so we can help her." 

"It's - no, it's not Grayson." 

Rhysand's phone started ringing, the screen flashing Feyre's name, but he kept his eyes locked on Azriel. 

Az sighed. "It's me."

Rhys let out a grunt of frustration before grabbing his phone off the table. 

"Hello?" His face was grave as he listened to the other end. After a moment, Rhys stood up, slapping some cash down on the table to cover the cost of his untouched glass of bourbon that had been sitting in front of him. "Yeah, I'll be right there."

Rhys shot a glance back at Azriel as he walked swiftly towards the door, phone still pressed to his ear. His face was a mix of confusion and anger. 

Azriel lifted his beer to finish the rest but Cassian snatched it out of his hands. 

"Come on now, brother. We don't need both of you being shit faced tonight." 

Azriel leaned his head back into the booth. The two sat in silence for a few minutes as the thoughts eddied around his head. He was furious with her. Absolutely furious. He wanted to break something but he focused on his breath trying to force his heart rate to steady. 

He had tried to call her. Again, and again, and again. He had lost track of how many messages he sent and voicemails left that just went unanswered. 

She had shut him out completely and it had taken everything inside himself not to show up at her door like some damn stalker to have it out. She had said her peace, she had got out everything she had wanted to but the moment she wasn’t told exactly what she wanted she ran away. 

It was ridiculous but he could, in a way, understand it.

Hadn’t he thought about doing the same thing?

But then he found out that she had started to avoid Feyre and Nesta and his anger overrode any sense of empathy he possessed.  

The whole thing was absolutely ridiculous.

A vibration in his left pocket had him snapping back to the moment. Az pulled out his phone, not bothering to look at who was calling  him. There were only a handful of people who would dream of calling him at this hour and, no matter who it was, he knew it would be about Elain.

"Hello?"

"Listen to me," Rhys started, "You need to fix this. Elain was just thrown out of one of the shittiest bars in the city but, before that, Feyre saw her dancing with Eris fucking Vansera." 

Rhys growled out the last words and Azriel paled. 

He couldn’t speak. Every thought in his brain vanished and he was left feeling cold and dark. 

"Feyre watched him walk over to Elain from across the bar. He knew who she was. I don’t know, man. I don’t know if it’s because of Lucien or the shit that went down with Mor but Eris knew exactly who she was when he went up to her. Thank God or the stars or whoever the fuck else is out there for Elain being such a lightweight. Feyre said Elain never saw Eris’ face and then started throwing up so she got kicked out. 

“Whatever happened between the two of you, figure it out." Rhys spat before he hung up the phone.

Azriel lowered his shaking hand as he met Cassian's gaze. 

"Eris was at the bar tonight." He muttered. Cassian's face remained calm but his eyes burned with rage. 

His heart ached at the idea of what Elain would say, what Mor would say, when they found out. The pig had been caught red handed brutalizing Mor but got off because his daddy owned some major textile manufacturing plant in city limits. 

As with everything lately, it was all a pile of tangled string.

Elain had been appalled to learn that the kind, red-headed man she had met at the book store, and subsequently gone on a few dates with months ago, was related to that piece of shit.

It hadn’t been a quiet revelation, either. Elain had gone to a picnic with Lucien to meet some of his family members when Eris walked up. She hadn’t recognized him but Eris knew once he heard the name ‘Archeron’.

There was never any indication that Lucien was anything like Eris, and by all accounts, he had no idea of what had happened but, still. Elain couldn’t stomach the idea tightening the connection between Mor and Eris so the two had parted ways amicably. 

Azriel was unsure if the sadistic fuck would use Elain as a pawn against Lucien or to torture Mor just a bit more and that uncertainty made him sick. 

"I need to be with her tonight."

Cass took a deep breath before nodding. "Who?" 

Azriel froze. 

It was such a simple question on the surface. Elain or Mor? Mor or Elain?

But that question, that choice, had been the start of this whole mess and his inability to decide had caused so much pain. 

Mor had been his first love, the first bit of brightness in his dark life. It had baffled him as much then as it did now that such a beautiful person could even look his way.

She had fought for him in so many of the ways that counted. He had been rescued from his abusers but he still felt like he was drowning every damn day until she stepped into his life. For the first time, there was light. She was so radiant that, even when they were apart, he still felt like he was slightly blinded. Like staring at the sun for too long. 

Her easy laughter and charm had him wrapped around her finger in an instant. There was no thought, no room for consideration. She had appeared in his life and he was irrevocably changed from that moment on.

It had been different, with Elain. 

She had come to him broken and at times he had hated her. Hated her for wearing her pain and sadness so loudly that she was like a damn mirror to his own suffering that he fought so hard to hide.  

Still, he gravitated towards her. Perhaps he wanted to help her because he still had some hope that he could heal himself. Perhaps he just really couldn’t control his desire to know what made certain people tick, to learn their secrets and desires. Perhaps it was because he was a masochist and just wanted to feel his own suffering a bit more but Azriel chose her. 

Again and again he chose her. 

At parties and dinners at first until it turned into quiet conversations alone, in coffee shops or on apartment couches or during long walks when sleep evaded them both. 

He whispered his traumas and, for the first time in his life, she didn't baulk. She stood steadfast with him on the shore as they both endured the crashing waves. Elain traded him with her own misery and Azriel prayed he handled her secrets with the same level of poise and grace that she possessed. 

He watched as, over time, she learned to pull the pieces back together in ways he never had managed for himself. She learned to fill the gaps that would never heal the same and love the scars, no matter how jagged, they left behind. 

It wasn't until she was gone that he realized how she had managed to begin to do the same with him. As she healed herself, she had begun to seep into his veins and warm his soul. So damn slowly that he hadn't even realized it happening. 

Until she left.

Her words haunted him and now he stood alone. Shivering and cold in the darkness of the void she had pulled open. 

Azriel swallowed, feeling a part of his heart shut off forever. It had only been a moment since Cassian had asked the damning question but it had felt like an eternity had passed. 

His friend could never know how much weight was in that question.

"I need to see Mor." 

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