A modern AU where Rowaelin aren’t together yet
Rowan stumbled into he and Aelin’s shared apartment just past three in the morning after a brutal night of drinking with Aedion.
He flung the door open, crashing into a table in the foyer and nearly knocking over the ridiculous Tiffany lamp sitting on top of it that Aelin had spent a small fortune on.
Aelin padded out of her bedroom, a yawn escaping her lips as she rubbed blearily at her eyes. “Rowan?” she murmured.
Just the sound of his name in her voice made Rowan’s heart do a gods damned backflip. Gods, how long had she been making him feel like this?
He tried to take a step towards her, but stubbed his toe on the couch and fell forward with a brutal series of curses escaping his mouth. Aelin lunged forward, catching him by the shoulders and leaning him against her. She walked him around the couch and set him down gently on the seat. Aelin ran her fingers briefly through his close cropped silver hair before whispering gently into his ear, “I’ll be right back.”
Gods, his head wouldn’t stop spinning. Just how shit-faced had he and Aedion gotten? Rowan realized just how cold his body felt without Aelin there, and was just about to call her back before she emerged from the kitchen carrying some advil and a glass of water.
When Rowan just shook his head, his brain feeling too foggy to form the right words, Aelin just gave him a glare that left him reconsidering, her Ashryver eyes bright and concerned in the darkness. She watched as he took the pills and drank the water, sighing approvingly when he finally swallowed. Aelin took the glass from him, setting it down on the small table and sat down next to him, tucking her feet in under her. She shifted close and took his hand, squeezing it gently. “You should go to bed,” she murmured.
It was in that moment, when Rowan took in her exhausted eyes, the lengths she went to to help him, the closeness of her body to his, the rush of emotions he’d felt as soon as she’d walked through the door–
“I fucked up,” he said. “Oh gods, I fucked up.”
Aelin lifted her gaze to him, concern filling her eyes. “Why? What happened?”
“I–,” Rowan started, the words catching in his throat, trying to form the sentence he never would have said sober. “I’m falling for someone.”
Aelin seemed to pull away the slightest bit, a flash of what almost looked like jealousy passing through her eyes. It was gone as soon as he noticed it, and Rowan was left questioning if it was ever there at all.
“Damn,” said Aelin, forcing an almost too-bright smile on her face. “Must be a real special person to get the heartless Rowan Whitethorn to fall in love.”
Rowan held her gaze, pine green eyes absolutely unflinching in the white moonlight. His silver hair gleamed especially bright, and Aelin could have sworn something in her chest cracked looking at him.
“Yes,” he whispered. “She is.”
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