&&; @flamesofday
She wasn't avoiding him.
It just so happened that whenever Elain heard the male approaching with her newly superior hearing, she remembered something she needed to be doing right at that moment. And she was just so incredibly busy tending to her new garden that had been provided for her and learning all sorts of new recipes with the twins, or even helping those in the city, that her days were packed.
She was not avoiding him.
Her sisters accused her of such, of course. But she had simply chuckled nervously and waved them off, assuring them that no such thing was happening. Nesta had assured her she was fine if she was avoiding him, while Feyre had merely eyed her with a concerned expression and a sympathetic lift of her lips.
She was avoiding him.
She finally admitted it to herself, and while it didn't necessarily make her feel any better about the whole situation, she supposed it was a start. It wasn't that she wasn't curious about the male, about what fate had decided to weave into her life, because she most certainly was. But it was that she was frightened; if she took this step to accept this male into her life, bond or no, it would mean she was finally letting go of her past life, of her human life. Lucien was what stood at the end of the path of this new life of hers. Her avoidance stemmed simply from the fact that she was scared of letting go of the life she knew, even though deep down, she knew there was nothing left for her there.
And she was so incredibly curious about him, about the male the Cauldron had deemed fit for her. She saw the happiness and love that had found her sisters, saw the change in them for the better. So why couldn't she just let go and allow that happiness for herself? She knew it was merely her stubbornness over something so big being decided for her, but what if it really did work out?
Finally, finally, after days, weeks, of mustering up the courage, Elain approached the male during one of his visits to the house, a beautiful flower with petals that resembled a stillborn flame cradled delicately in her hands. "I brought this for you," she murmurs, eyes lowered to the flower, the beauty of which had reminded her of him and his hair. Seeing the flower grow in her garden had given her the opportunity and courage to finally approach him, and she couldn't resist when the petals reminded her so much of him. "It reminded me of you." She adds, softer this time, as a faint blush heats up her cheeks and her eyes remain lowered, too embarrassed to meet his eyes.
