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duskandcobalt · 1 month

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Everywhere, Everything: Chapter Seven

Chapter Summary: Elain heads back to Velaris for Christmas after rejecting Graysen's marriage proposal.

Word Count: 6.6k

Warnings: mentions of dv (please see authors note below), smattering of smut (18+ pls)

Missed the first six chapters? You can find the Masterlist for this fic here 🥰

A/N: *peaks out from the hole I've been hiding in* heyyyy 😅

Once again, I must begin by saying thank you for all your lovely comments and messages about this fic and all the others. I cannot appreicate how much it means to me. A special thank you to everyone who's checked in with me over the past few months and given me kindess, support, and patience. There are some lovely people on this app and I am so honoured that you choose to read and engage with my fic.

Please note that there is a very brief mention of domestic violence in this chapter within the context of a conversation. If that's something you'd rather skip reading, please feel free to do what's best for you.

ENJOY XX

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The fire was dwindling down, empty cups were scattered on every available surface, Christmas music played over the speakers, and wrapping paper was strewn on the floor of Azriel’s living room.

It’d been a Christmas like all the others - drinking and eating and lots of gifts exchanged, though Nyx had made out the best of anyone, spoiled rotten by all of his aunties and uncles. They’d played a few games, exchanged a bit of gossip about mutual acquaintances, and throughout all the festivities, Azriel had kept a careful eye on Elain.

He watched her now, his brows pulling together above the rim of the whisky glass he’d raised up to his lips. She was sitting quietly in her usual spot on his couch, lazily tracing circles around the rim of her nearly empty wine glass.

There was something different about her tonight that he couldn't quite place but he was determined to figure out. While everyone else had been enjoying themselves, he could sense a peculiar cloud of something sad that seemed to follow Elain around no matter how hard she tried to smile and laugh and pretend like everything was okay when it was clear - to him, at least - that things were far from fine.

His first sign that something was wrong was when Elain had walked into his house earlier, avoiding eye contact and barely even bothering with a proper hug as she muttered a ‘Merry Christmas’ and a ‘thank you for hosting’ all while hiding behind a pile of gifts stacked tall in her arms. Even when she'd come back home with Graysen in tow she hadn't held back from him like that and her iciness had caught him completely off guard.

He’d been so anxious to see her again after all this time, that he hadn’t fully considered the reality of the situation. Azriel knew that the last time they’d seen each other had been tense but it hadn't ended badly by any means. And sure, he hadn't spoken to her properly in well over half a year but she replied to his sparse texts and he still woke up to a voice note from her on his birthday so he’d figured that that had to count for something. That maybe that was to be their new normal. He’d resigned himself to taking what he could get - that’s what he’d told her after all on Nesta’s porch that night. He wanted her in his life in whatever way he could have her.

The second thing to clue him in that something was wrong was that right after she’d placed the presents under the Christmas tree, Elain had made a beeline to the kitchen and poured herself a shot of whatever bottle of alcohol her eyes had landed on first.

It wasn't that he wasn't used to seeing her drink, although she’d certainly never been a drinker in the way the rest of their friend group indulged, but he’d never once seen her drink like this - knocking back shot after shot when she thought no one was watching. It was rare for her to even pour a drink without asking if she could. Almost a decade of knowing her and Elain always asked permission no matter how many times he insisted that she help herself to whatever she wanted.

Azriel had counted at least seven trips to the kitchen tonight - all for a drink, none for food. Even the speciality cheese she adored and that he’d purchased just for her after she confirmed her attendance, sat untouched. But for having downed a minimum of seven drinks, she didn’t really appear to be all that drunk. He had to give her credit because she held her alcohol surprisingly well - the only real give away that she was drunk was a slight stumble as she stood up from the sofa the last time she went to the kitchen and a droop to her eyelids that could be attributed to exhaustion.

Elain had sat quietly most of the night, speaking only when spoken to and channelling most of her attention on Nyx when he’d been awake but now that her nephew was fast asleep on the sofa next to her, Shadow curled up at his feet, she had no real distraction and Azriel watched curiously as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat, opening her mouth a dozen times as if to speak only to seemingly decide against it and retreat back into herself.

He’d planned on once again cornering her to try and figure out what the hell was going on and to see if there was absolutely anything he could do to ease whatever clearly ailed her. He’d intended to follow her into the kitchen the next time she went to drown her sorrows but he never got the chance because after a prolonged moment of silence amongst the group - she finally spoke.

Azriel all but froze as Elain cleared her throat and wrung her hands together in her lap, tugging at the sleeves of the long sleeved black top she was wearing. Her empty glass of wine had been carefully placed on the coffee table in front of her.

“Graysen proposed,” she hiccupped, nervously tucking her hair behind her ears as she delivered her news without even a second of preamble.

The two words were softly spoken and she’d said them in one breath with no break in between but Azriel heard her loud and clear.

His stomach dropped, the three or four drinks he’d consumed turned sour in his stomach and did very little to ease the pain of his heart slamming against his chest as Nesta and Feyre began firing off question after question - all of which were ignored by Elain and none of which he could actually hear over the incessant buzzing in his ears.

He prayed that he’d heard her wrong. Prayed that there was no way she’d actually said what he thought she’d said. It wasn’t until he saw Feyre reach for Elain’s left hand that Azriel forced himself to focus, his eyes zeroing in on her fingers - at the vacant space where one would expect to find a ring after an announcement such as the one Elain had just made.

“I said no,” she whispered, catching Feyre’s confused expression as her sister’s index finger slid over Elain’s bare skin.

No.

She’d said no. She’d said no. She’d said no.

Azriel repeated the words to himself over and over again as it was his own personal mantra, drilling it into his head as he finally allowed himself to breathe. He couldn’t look at her face, couldn’t bear to find out what expression he’d find there. All he could do was stare at her hand - at that perfect, unadorned finger - no glimmering diamond to be found.

“A few months ago,” he heard her tell the girls.

“Why’d you say no?” Nesta asked, her voice soft although Azriel could hear the smallest inkling of relief in it that mirrored his own feelings. He wondered if maybe Nesta had seen through Graysen’s facade as well and had quietly hoped that her cousin would come to her senses and leave him.

Azriel tore his attention away from Elain’s fingers and up to her face only to watch as her eyes lifted to meet his for a fleeting moment before she quickly looked away from him and back to Nesta.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “We hadn’t even talked about it and I was caught so off guard. It just didn’t feel right.” She took a deep, staggering breath, Azriel could see the shimmer of tears beginning to well along her lash line. “I don’t think I ever really loved him…. I never really like them all that much.”

She said the last part to herself, a drunken admission whispered to the floor. It was a confession that she’d spent her entire adult life with men that she didn’t even truly care for. Azriel couldn’t bring himself to wonder why she did what she did or why she’d finally admitted it. He wouldn’t let himself consider that maybe she found herself staying in meaningless relationship after meaningless relationship for the same reason he found himself avoiding them all together.

“I think… I think I may need to lay down,” Elain muttered after a moment of tense, awkward silence. It was clear that no one in the room quite knew what to say or do. Feyre and Nesta were staring at her dumbfounded. Cassian and Rhys were exchanging mildly panicked looks as they tried to figure out what to do in this situation. “I feel a little dizzy all of a sudden.”

“Come upstairs,” Azriel was on his feet before he could even think to stop himself, speaking without even consciously meaning to as he bypassed Feyre and Nesta to get to Elain. He stepped forward, one hand outstretched towards her.

He didn't miss the look Feyre gave Nesta. A silent enquiry as to whether they should let him take her upstairs - as if the two of them knew what had happened the last time he and Elain had been left alone on Christmas. Nesta just nodded, one subtle dip of her chin that had Feyre watching in stunned silence as Elain placed her hand in Azriel’s.

Neither of the girls had ever said anything to him about that night other than to acknowledge that Elain had, in fact, flown home the following morning. An emergency at work was the flimsy excuse Nesta had given him the following day when he’d called her and done his best to enquire about Elain’s whereabouts without raising any suspicion.

Azriel carefully pulled Elain up, keeping her hand in his as his other arm wrapped around her waist to keep her upright as he slowly and carefully led her up his stairs, guiding her to the guest room a couple doors down from his own bedroom.

He flipped back the duvet and sat her down on the bed. He could feel her eyes on him as she silently watched him lower himself to his knees so he could unzip her boots and slide them off her feet.

“Lay back,” he tapped gently on her calf, hands hovering around her in case she needed help.

“Not the first time you’ve said that to me,” Elain quipped, flopping back in a less than graceful manner before turning onto her side to face him. There was the tiniest smirk on her lips, the smallest bit of amusement shining in her sad eyes. He almost found himself smiling at the drunken comment until her expression changed, those pretty lips of hers turning down at the corners.

“Az.. will you stay with me? After everyone goes?”

Azriel grimaced, ignoring the pull from the part of his heart that was ready and willing to bend to her every whim. “I can’t, Elain.”

“Why?” Her eyebrows pulled together to create a small crease on her forehead. He fought the urge to reach out and smooth away that visible line of tension with a gentle pass of his thumb. “You always used to stay with me.”

“It’s different now,” he exhaled, shoulders dropping as he absentmindedly ran a hand through his hair. “You’re not mine, Elain.”

“That’s not true,” Elain frowned, fighting to keep her eyes open. “I’ve always been yours.” She said it with every bit of drunken sincerity in the world, whispered soft and sweet even as she lost the battle to sleep and her eyes began to flutter shut.

Her words were like a knife to his heart. He knew she never would’ve said it if the amount of alcohol in her bloodstream didn’t outweigh her good senses. He had no idea whether she’d even remember any of this in the morning.

“Why did you stay with him? If you didn’t love him? If you didn’t like any of the others? Why would you stay with them?” Azriel couldn’t help but ask, going against his better judgement to seek an explanation for the questions that had haunted him for years even if he knew that whatever answer she gave him, it was unlikely to offer him any semblance of peace.

“It’s easier to pretend if there’s someone else,” Elain’s hands came up to her throat, her fingertips mindlessly searching for something. She frowned when she came up empty, her nails digging into the space between her collarbones instead. The sight unsettled Azriel enough to momentarily distract him from what she’d just said.

The necklace he’d given her on her birthday a few years ago, the one she’d worn religiously every day since, the one that tethered her to him, was missing from her neck and it was like a punch to his gut.

“The chain broke,” Elain whispered, having followed his line of sight to where he’d been openly staring at the place the gold pendant had sat against her skin for half a decade. “It’s in my bag, I was hoping you’d be able to fix it.”

Azriel nodded, relieved that she hadn’t actually taken the necklace off herself. He stood there, arms hanging uselessly at his side for a couple more seconds until her eyelids drifted shut once again. He walked towards the door, deciding to let her sleep this off, but he paused before he could leave, turning towards her once more.

He thought maybe he was a sadist because asking these questions, pushing for these answers, would only serve to expand that ever growing crack in his heart. Still, he couldn't seem to help himself.

“Lain?” Part of him hoped that she’d already drifted off to sleep, that she wouldn’t answer and he wouldn’t get to ask his question and have to hear her response..

“Yeah, Az?” The corner of her eyes crinkled as she looked at him, squinting.

“What did you mean?” He asked. “When you said it’s easier to pretend?”

She paused for a moment, teeth scraping over her bottom lip as she turned so she was on her back, her eyes focused on the ceiling.

“When I’m with someone else,” she started, voice so quiet that he had to strain to hear her over the music carrying up the stairs and under the gap in the door. “It’s easier to distract myself from the fact that sometimes I want you so badly, I think it might kill me.”

The ache in his chest was so sharp and so immediate that he had to grip the handle on the door harder just to feel like he had some sort of control over his body. He had no idea what to do with that information. Had no idea what to say back. He’d waited what felt like a lifetime to hear her say those words to him, he’d just never imagined that it would be so painful.

He couldn’t speak, could barely even remember his name. He hadn’t realised how long he’d been silent until he noticed that she’d fallen asleep, her head now tilted towards him.

Azriel set his shoulders and backed out of the room, quietly shutting the door behind him. He took a deep breath, pushing back every bit of emotion that he felt, before slowly making his way back downstairs.

Elain stuck an arm out from under the covers, her fingers blindly reaching to her nightstand for her phone. It wasn’t until she felt the sharp corner of a wooden surface instead of the rounded edge of her own bedside table that she realised that she wasn’t at home in her own bed. She peeked out from under the covers, taking in her surroundings with one blurry eye.

Light was beginning to filter in through a pair of cream curtains covering a rather large window. The bed she was in was comfy and not completely unfamiliar, the bed linen looked similar to a set that she’d helped Azriel choose back when they’d gone shopping for…

“Fuck,” Elain groaned, sitting up and dragging her hands over her face.

She wasn’t at home. She wasn’t in her designated room at her sister’s house. No - she’d been fast asleep in Azriel’s guest bedroom.

It didn’t take much to figure out just how she’d ended up here. The pounding in her head and the dryness in her mouth were enough to tell her that she’d maybe taken it a little too far with the alcohol last night.

She’d started drinking before they’d even left Feyre’s, just a couple of glasses while getting ready that she told herself were for liquid courage. She’d known the second that they pulled into Azriel’s driveway that she’d need far more to get through seeing him again under a whole new set of circumstances that only she was privy to and so she’d thrown caution to the wind and had been throwing back drinks any chance she got.

She really hadn’t even been planning on telling anyone about the proposal but after an hour or so of drinking, she’d felt the urge to say it - to let them know what had happened. To let them know she and Graysen were done. Elain couldn’t remember much past the moment she’d drunkenly blurted out the news.. she remembered Feyre and Nesta’s surprised faces and the faraway look on Azriel’s face when she’d dared to glance at him but everything past that moment seemed to be a blur.

If she really tried to push for details, she could vaguely remember being helped up the stairs because she was too far gone to manage on her own but that was all her hungover brain could string together.

“Lain?” The low register of Azriel’s morning voice rumbled through the door as a knock lightly sounded on the surface. “You up? Can I come in?”

“Yeah, come in!” She called back, wincing at how sore her voice sounded in her ears.

Elain sat up, quickly running a hand through her tangled hair as she propped up a pillow behind her and let the duvet fall to her waist. It was so much colder in this room than she’d expected and she didn’t fully register why until Azriel walked in.

“Morning, how you feeling? I brought some -” he’d been halfway through his sentence, sleepy eyes scanning over her until they widened at the exact same time the tips of his ears went red.

She’d lost her top at some point during the night - something she hadn’t realised until the cold morning air had hit her bare skin. Azriel turned around quickly, the glass of water in his hand sloshing over slightly with the speed at which he averted his gaze. “Fuck. Sorry! I thought.. You said to come in and I thought… fuck .”

Elain quickly tugged the sheets back up to her chin, fighting the urge to pull them over her head altogether and suffocate herself from embarrassment. Twice now, she’d woken up in Azriel’s house on the day after Christmas naked in one of his beds. Maybe next year she’d check off the last remaining room.

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t even realise I - wait, you can turn around…” she fumbled with her words, watching as he slowly turned to face her. His cheeks were pink and the hand that wasn’t cradling a glass of water and an entire pack of headache tablets came up to fidget with the worn neck of the old t-shirt he’d chucked on this morning. “I always get so hot at night and I usually sleep with a fan and I just must’ve… taken it off. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I should’ve gotten you a change of clothes but I didn’t want to…” he trailed off, coming closer to hand her the water as he opened up the packet of tablets and slipped out a few. “I barely saw anything, if that helps.”

Elain took the tablets from him. “Barely anything, huh?”

She took a small bit of satisfaction from the way he frowned in confusion before he caught on, the blush that had finally subsided from his cheeks came back full force.

“ Not what I meant,” Azriel shook his head, raking a hand through his hair as she tossed back the tablets. “There’s plenty to see… just the right amount.”

“I’d stop speaking now if I were you,” Elain rolled her eyes. “Thank you for the tablets and the water and for letting me stay the night.”

“It’s nothing,” Azriel shrugged, gingerly sitting on the very edge of the bed. His eyes scanned over her again, lingering on the bare skin of her shoulder that had escaped the cover of the duvet before they slid to her fingers and then back up to her face. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Could be better,” she answered, realising that she hadn’t actually gotten around to responding the first time he’d asked her. “Can’t drink like I used to, I suppose.”

“You’ve never drank like that, Lain.” Azriel chuckled. “I think that’s part of the problem.”

He was right. She was notoriously a lightweight when it came to alcohol and had never needed more than four or five drinks before she was just the right amount of drunk.

“A shower and some food and I’ll feel brand new,” she sighed.

“I’ll grab you a towel and some clothes,” he nodded, fingers mindlessly tapping at his knee. “Have a shower and come down, I’ll make you some breakfast and then if you’re up for it we can go over to the studio and I’ll fix your necklace. Fresh air might do you some good.”

“You don’t have to do that, Az. I’ll call Feyre to pick me up and get out of your way.” Elain started to look around for where she might’ve tossed her top, suddenly anxious that she’d been here too long. That she was eating into his day, once again taking up time that she didn’t deserve.

“I know that I don’t have to, Elain. I want to.” He insisted, voice gentle as ever as he looked over at her. “You aren’t in my way.”

Elain didn’t say anything, just looked down at her lap as he stood up, adjusting the waistband of the plaid pajama pants he had on. “Chocolate chip or blueberry?”

“What?”

“Pancakes,” Azriel clarified, a shy grin on his lips. “Chocolate chip or blueberry?”

“Blueberry, please.” Elain couldn’t help but mirror her grin, especially when her stomach audibly grumbled at the mere mention of food.

An hour or so later, Elain sat quietly, perched on a bench top in Azriel’s workshop. She was warm from the scorching shower she’d taken and clothed in an assortment of clothes that he’d handed her with a towel this morning - his shirt, his sweatpants… a lacy pair of underwear she recognised as the ones she hadn’t bothered to search for when she’d snuck out of his house the previous year.

She watched him as he took a seat, sliding a frame of protective glasses over his eyes before he fired up a small torch. He situated himself, leaning forward as he began to carefully solder Elain’s necklace back together.

She told herself she was just watching a master at work but her attention had drifted from the actual work being done to focus on the movement of his deft fingers, the shifting muscles of his strong back and shoulders. She studied the side of his face - the slope of his nose, the concentrated furrow of his brows, the way his lips pressed together as he worked.

She didn’t realise just how intensely she’d been staring at him until she found herself looking into his actual eyes rather than just his side profile. Elain quickly sat up straight, rolling her shoulders as she lowered her eyes and tried to keep her cheeks from flooding with colour.

“You said the necklace broke while you were changing,” Azriel stood up, pushing his glasses back, using them like a headband to keep his thick hair off of his forehead. It was ridiculous that he managed to look good even like that.

“The way the chain was broken,” he spoke carefully as he approached her. “It didn’t look like a simple snag, it looked like there was some force behind it.

Elain swallowed, her cheeks now burning for an entirely different reason. She turned to look out of the window to her right, pretending to watch the snow as it drifted lazily from the cold, gray sky.

“Lain?” Azriel tried again. He was standing in front of her now, just inches from her knees. “How did the necklace really break?”

Elain paused, unsure how to proceed or what to even say. She couldn’t lie to him. Not again. She’d told herself in the shower this morning - after she’d had a small cry and wallowed in self pity - that this needed to be a new start, that she couldn’t keep shutting him out. Especially now that she no longer had the excuse of having a boyfriend in the picture.

“Graysen… he didn’t like the necklace very much,” she started. “He always had an issue with it, even before he met you. He didn’t like that I never took it off or that it was from a friend . It only got worse after he came home with me and saw us and then when I… when he proposed and I said no, he said that if I didn’t want to accept the ring, I needed to take off the necklace. I guess to prove that I cared about him even if I didn’t want to marry him just yet.”

“You didn’t take the necklace off,” Azriel stated, eyes boring into her even though she couldn’t quite bring herself to look back at him.

“I couldn’t do it,” Elain’s voice shook slightly as she thought back to that night. “He obviously wasn’t happy with my choice and so he just… he reached forward and pulled it off of me.”

Elain’s eyes were shut, her heart racing at the memory of how she’d felt that night. How alone she’d been, how momentarily afraid. She couldn’t bring herself to tell Azriel that she’d woken to a small, raised scar on the side of her neck the next morning. She hadn’t realised that she’d been crying until Azriel’s hand cupped her face, the rough pad of his thumb gently sweeping across her cheek to brush away hot tears.

“I’m so sorry,” she mumbled.

“What are you apologising for?” Azriel asked.

She could hear the restraint in his voice, the underlying anger that he carried on her behalf.

“I don’t know,” Elain finally looked at him, giving him a sad smile. “I’ve just been so awful to you for so long now.”

“You haven’t,” he assured her. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Lain. I just hope you know that how he acted - pulling this off of you - that’s not okay. You didn’t deserve that.”

“I shouldn’t have led him on…” she shook her head. “I wasted his time. I wasted yours… he was right to be angry with me.”

“Look at me,” Azriel demanded, palm sliding from her cheek down to her jaw so that he could tilt her face up towards his. “None of that matters.”

“It does though because I -”

“Elain, did he ever…” Elain’s eyes travelled to the clench of his jaw, the way his throat flexed as he trailed off. “If he put his hands on you…”

“No, Az.” Elain lifted her hand up to cover his where it still cradled her face. “There were words occasionally and he’d… when we… never mind,” she blushed, swallowing away the bitterness at remembering what the sex had been like after an argument or whenever he’d been jealous. “It was never… he never hit me.” She said finally.

Elain studied Azriel’s face carefully. Let him see that she was okay. That the only marker that anything had happened was a broken necklace that was easily mended.

She knew where his mind had gone - knew his fears of her being treated the same way his mother had been treated.

He’d confided in her years ago - told her about what he’d witnessed growing up and the anger he felt towards the man he didn’t even care to call father. Explained how ashamed he felt at being too small to really be able to do anything to help.

Elain couldn’t bear the thought of him feeling like that again. Certainly not over her.

“Azriel,” she squeezed his fingers to get his full attention. “He didn’t hurt me. I promise.”

“Okay,” he nodded eventually, worried eyes meeting hers for one more moment as if to confirm that she was in fact unharmed before he leaned back and picked up her necklace from where he’d sat it on the bench next to her hip. “Here, just like new.”

Elain didn’t reach for the necklace, instead she just gave him a shy smile and echoed the question she’d asked him when he first presented her with this necklace all those years ago. “Put it on me?”

Azriel returned her smile with one just as shy, waiting as she gathered her hair and twisted it up to move it out of the way. His hands slipped around her neck, the chain cold against her skin.

Azriel’s head dipped so that he could see what he was doing, his cheek skimming her hair as he took his time fastening the necklace. She’d missed the feeling, the reassuarance that the small bit of gold nestled against her chest provided her.

“Last night… Did you mean what you said?” His question was so quiet, half hushed by the way his face was tilted into her hair.

“Oh god,” she groaned, dread seeping through her veins.

She’d been wondering all morning what had happened last night, had been trying to fill in the blanks between the bits she could remember… which wasn’t all that much. She was scared to even ask - afraid to know all the ways she might’ve embarrassed herself the previous night. “I don’t really remember what was said, to be honest.”

He finally pulled back and straightened up, hands reaching forward to gently maneuver the necklace until it sat just right around her neck. Each brush of his fingers against her skin made her shiver in a way that she couldn’t possibly hide from him.

The way that he was looking at her certainly didn’t help. Neither did the drag of his thumb against her neck, right over a pulsing vein that gave away her racing heart.

“Right,” Azriel gave her a nervous smile that made her stomach drop in anticipation. “When Nesta asked you why you said no…”

“I do remember that part,” she cut him off, unable to bear hearing it again although she knew it could only get worse.

“Well, when it was just us upstairs, after you’d asked me to stay -”

“Jesus, Az, I’m sorry -”

“Not something to apologise for,” the fingers of his other hand tapped out a pattern on her knee that caused yet another shiver to zip up her spine. “I asked you why you stayed with Graysen or with any of the others if you didn’t even actually like them and you told me that it was easier to do that than admit that you, um… wanted me.”

Elain bit the inside of her cheek as she glanced away from him yet again.

“Is that true?” Azriel prodded her for an answer and when she found the courage to look at him again, the look in his eyes, the unmistakable heat, threatened to stop her heart altogether.

“What happens if I say yes?” She felt breathless, a little dizzy. Just like she felt a year ago when she’d been in a very similar situation - sat on a countertop, Azriel standing in between her knees. Their entire world balancing on a precipice.

She wasn’t sure when she’d started to lean into his touch. Couldn’t pinpoint when her face had moved so close to his that his nose practically grazed hers. She had no way to tell if he had leaned down or if she had keened upwards, her body arching up to him like a flower seeking the sun. She didn’t know when any of it had happened but she didn’t fight it as her eyes fluttered shut and her lips parted in anticipation.

Waiting. Wanting.

He didn’t answer her, only smoothed his thumb over her throat once more before repeating his own question. “Is it true, Elain?”

“Yes,” she breathed, her voice verging on desperation.

Azriel swallowed once, eyes tracing a slow path from her eyes to her lips before he answered her with action.

Their lips met, clumsily at first though they fell into rhythm quickly, muscle memory kicking in as their mouths came together in a way that bordered on frantic. Her hands tangled in his hair while his ventured to her waist, pulling her into him while simultaneously pushing her further back onto the workbench until she was practically flat against it, his body pressing hers down.

“Elain…” Azriel’s voice was almost pained as he said her name, his lips coasting along her jaw, a different kind of restraint in his tone than the restraint he’d spoken with a few minutes before.

“Please,” she all but whimpered, desperate to feel his lips on hers again.

“Can’t do this if you’re going to run again afterwards, Elain.” He told her, his hands still wandering, sliding under the soft fabric of the shirt she wore. His shirt.

“I mean… my flight is booked for tomorrow,” she couldn’t help but joke, squealing and squirming as his fingers pressed into her side as punishment.

“S’not funny,” he grumbled.

“Sorry, sorry…” she schooled her face into a serious expression. “I do have to go tomorrow but it won’t be because of this, Az. Not this time. I promise.”

“We have a lot of talking to do,” Azriel told her, all the while his hands travelled further up her torso until his fingers grazed the soft skin of her breasts.

Just that slight touch had her tugging him down towards her as she leaned further back once more, presenting herself to him. His for the taking.

“Later,” she told him. “Talk later.”

She knew it was stupid - to once again go down this route without having properly spoken about what they were doing. What this was. If it was even anything. All she knew was that she was tired of pretending. Tired of being afraid of the unknowns, of the what ifs. She wished she had any idea how this would all end, how it would play out. But that was a conversation for another day. Right now, all she wanted, all she needed , was this.

“Later,” Azriel agreed, smiling into the crook of her neck before coming back up to kiss her again. This time it was unrushed, almost lazy. He took his time familiarising himself with her mouth the same way he took his time circling her nipples with his thumbs. She moaned into his mouth - half at the blissful feeling of his hands on her skin, half at the memory of what that same motion had felt like when he’d slid his hand up under her skirt the last time they’d done this.

“Always want you like this,” she admitted, mind hazy as his mouth travelled down her neck and over her sternum as he pushed up her t-shirt until his lips were on the bare skin of her stomach.

“Yeah?” his fingers tucked into the waistband of her sweatpants, tugging them down as she lifted her hips to aid in the process. Her underwear was pulled to the side, his fingers gliding over her entirely too easily with how wet she was for him. She heard him swear under his breath, in awe at his effect on her.

“Always,” she reiterated, gasping as he slowly slid a finger inside her. “For you. Always like this for you. Az, please can we just -”

She was speaking complete gibberish, anxious to get what she’d been coveting all this time even if she hadn’t wanted to admit it to herself. She didn’t want to waste any more time.

“Don’t have a condom with me,” he told her with a kiss to the inside of her thigh as he continued to touch her. She was distracted from her disappointment when he added another finger - tested the stretch of her.

“You don’t have any here?” The lack of a condom hadn’t been an issue last time but it had been a year and she knew Azriel had a rotation of girls that he occasionally saw so when he didn’t follow up with a but I haven’t been with anyone, she didn’t let herself linger on it for too long.

“Don’t really make it a habit to have sex in my workplace very often, or ever, to be honest. Safety concerns and all…” he trailed off, his breath hot over where she ached for his touch. “So this might just have to do for now, wanna make you co-”

His words were cut off by a shrill ring from somewhere besides them.

“Ignore it,” she told him, hips tilting up in search of more as she flung a hand out to the side in search of her phone. Her fingers blindly fumbled on the screen until the ringing stopped.

Azriel continued, fingers curling in just the right way as he circled her clit with his tongue - ever so slowly bringing her closer and closer to the edge.

“Az, oh my God, I think, I think -” Elain gasped, grasping at his hair. She wanted to tell him she was close, to not stop, that she was going to come. But the shrill ring of her phone sounded again, effectively ruining the moment.

“You should probably get that,” Azriel reluctantly pulled away, fingers slipping out of her. He sighed deeply, forehead resting against her bare thigh as she reached for her phone and glanced at the screen.

Two missed calls and fourteen unread texts. If it wasn’t for previous trauma of missed calls and texts, she might’ve let it go and urged Azriel to continue. She tapped on the screen a little harder than necessary.

“Hello, Nesta.” Elain huffed as she sat up, gently pushing Azriel away as she adjusted her underwear and pulled her pants up and her shirt back down.

Azriel grinned, shamelessly watching as Elain made herself decent to speak to her sister while she tried to pretend like she hadn’t been splayed out on his workbench half naked, with his mouth in between her thighs mere moments ago.

“Where the hell have you been? I’ve been texting you all morning, it’s almost one in the afternoon. I’m glad to know you’re alive.” Nesta rattled off, exasperated. “Azriel wasn’t answering his phone either.”

“I’m alive. I’m with him. I’ll be home soon.” Elain’s words were short. She couldn’t keep the annoyance out of her voice at having their time so rudely interrupted.

She knew the moment was over, that she’d need to go back to her sisters and explain herself. God knows they’d be anxiously waiting for answers now that she’d sobered up. But her disappointment faded because the way Azriel was watching her with bright, happy eyes and lips swollen from kissing her more than made up for it.

She half listened to whatever Nesta was saying, too focused on the man in front of her - his dark, messy hair. His broad shoulders and strong arms. His calloused hands. All those tattoos that snaked up his arms and over his chest - old, familiar ones and a few new pieces that she longed to learn about. His enviably long eyelashes. Those kind emerald flecked eyes.

This was Azriel. Her Azriel. Her best friend.

How could she have ever thought this was anything but exactly right?

#elriel fic #everywhere everything #my writing #elain x azriel #modern au #acotar fanfiction #elriel fanfic #elriel smut #once again posting at 1am on a work night #oh well what can ya do #overlook any and all mistakes actually that’s what you can do #no one yell at my girl nesta #shes simply concerned for her sisters wellbeing #the chapter in which elain and azriel find at least one singular braincell to share between them #i say this with love #okay bye its bedtime

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varpusvaras · 6 months

Text

Bail stares up at the sky and looks his death in the eye.

He wakes up with a start and almost falls down, but his descent is stopped by the edge of a desk that is suddenly right in front of him. He grabs at it and stops himself from hitting his chin on it, and stares, with his arms shaking and his breath caught up somewhere in his throat.

He is not sure how long he stands there, staring at the desk which sudden existence he cannot comprehend, when there is a sound somewhere to his left and footsteps coming closer.

"Bail?" It's a woman's voice, so familiar but one he knows he shouldn't be hearing speaking to him. "Sir?"

Bail lifts his head and looks over at the voice.

He looks right into Sheltay's face, currently laced over with thin worry.

Bail stares at her. She has been gone for so long, but her face is now clear in his mind and she stands there, just like she was back then, just like she was before they had lost her. He had almost forgotten how much Winter looks like her mother, but there is no doubt of it now.

A new fear grips him. Was Winter off planet, when it all happened? He is not sure suddenly. She must've been, because Bail isn't sure what he is going to say to Sheltay otherwise. He focuses on her again, and thinks, frantically. Shouldn't she know it already? If Winter is also gone, now, shouldn't Sheltay know it by now, shouldn't her daughter be here with her? No, no, Winter must've been off the planet, just like Leia, otherwise he-

Bail looks at Sheltay again. No. No, something is not- something is not correct. Sheltay had cut her hair, just a couple of weeks before the accident, but it is now long and tied high up, like she used to style it when she was still working on as his aide back in the Senate. Bail looks at her more closely. It has been so long since he has last seen her, but...

Sheltay looks truly concerned now.

"Sir?" She calls again, and takes a step closer. "Is everything alright?"

Is everything alright? Bail thinks, almost hysterically. Is everything alright? You are dead. I am dead. Or at least we both should be.

Sheltay doesn't look dead, though, and Bail certainly doesn't feel like dead, either, as he draws in a breath to his now burning lungs. He draws in another, then another, before he feels like he knows again how breathing properly works. Breathing shouldn't feel necessary for someone who was dead, and Bail does feel the instant relief in his body with every breath he takes in.

"I", he starts. He what? He doesn't know what to say. If this isn't what comes after death, what is supposed to happen when one becomes one with the Force, then what is this?

He breathes in deeply again, just to ground himself further. He looks down on his hands, still holding onto the desk. He recognises the desk, now. It's his desk, the one he used to have in his office back in the Senate. He looks furher down, towards his feet. He recognises the carpet beneath them, as well.

He lifts his head and looks around once more. He is in his office, back in the Senate Building, but something is not correct with it either. Leia had been the one using the office more often now, and she had changed some of the decorations and brought in things of her own, and none of those were there now. The place looks just like it had back when Bail had been the only one to use it, back in the days when the Republic had still been standing.

"Bail", Sheltay is now standing right next to him, and reaching out towards him with her hand. "Are you not well? Do I need to call someone?"

Bail looks at her again. Yes, he can now see it. She is younger than what she had been at the time of her death. She is not wearing any of the gifts her husband would so often give to her. She looks just like she had back then, back when the Republic had still been standing, back when the War had been ripping the Galaxy apart.

Bail turns around. He has a row of glass cabinets situated behind his desk, and he looks at himself from the reflection of them.

He had already expected it, seeing himself with all the years gained during the reign of the Empire taken away. There is not even a hint of grey in his hair, and there are so many lines missing from his face that he almost thinks it funny for a moment. Then Sheltay is grabbing his arm, forcing him to look back at her.

"I'm serious", she says. She is looking him over now, her eyes racing over him up and down. "Do you need a doctor?"

Bail shakes his head.

"No", he manages to say. "No, I- I just need to sit down for a moment."

He really does. He takes a step forward, to walk around his desk, and Sheltay guides him over to he couch and quite firmly sits him down.

"Do I need to call someone else?" Sheltay asks again. "Breha?"

Bail looks out of the window, at the pale colours of Coruscant's morning sky. He then glances at the chrono on the wall. It's still early on Alderaan, too early. Breha is not getting up usually until two hours later, earliest. Bail doesn't want to wake her.

It hits him then that in this place he is now, Alderaan is still there. Alderaan and Breha are still there-

-and Leia is not.

It's a strange type of grief he feels then, not one he had thought possible to even exist before this. Leia is not dead, but she is still gone just the same.

Sheltay probably sees him look at the time, as she nods.

"Later, then", she says. "Fox?"

Bail stops breathing.

He stares at Sheltay, because he had been looking at her and cannot make himself move now to look anywhere else.

How could he have forgotten? If Bail is here, if Sheltay is here, if Breha and Alderaan are here, then Fox is here as well.

"Fox", He tries out his name out loud, and Sheltay seems to take that as a confirmation, as she takes out her commlink and starts typing on it.

Bail manages to move, and takes the moment to look up the date.

It's- he is barely second year into the War. It doesn't seem logical, for him to be put in here, in this time, if he truly is dead, not if not for some kindness from the Force, giving him a glimpse of a time when he truly thought there was still a possibility for a brighter future to be right around the corner, when most of the people he loved were still there with him.

It's just strange, to have only him be aware of it all, and not Sheltay. Bail doesn't remember a day like this ever happening before, not that it matters, if this is just some illusion before he finally ceases to exist completely. It's strange, to make everything appear right like it was so long ago, and not like it had been just before his death. It was strange, to make himself feel so alive, just to have him be dead.

Perhaps, a thought enters his mind and doesn't leave. Perhaps you really aren't dead. Perhaps you're here because of all the mistakes you made, and you need to repent for them, before you can let go and move on.

It almost makes him laugh. That, he thinks, that he can do.

Sheltay puts her commlink away, and sits next to him on the couch.

"He said that he will be here as soon as he can", she says. She puts her hand on top of Bail's, and it's warm.

Bail breathes in and nods.

"Thank you", he says, and then it hits him that Fox is alive.

He had thought of it just a moment earlier, but now it truly realises for him that Fox is alive. He has been gone so long as well, so long, too long. Bail has already grieved him in his heart, to a point he has almost stopped hurting so much. Bail had thought, briefly, during his last moments, that perhaps they could still meet before the very end, if he just hadn't already crossed over to where there was nothing left, but this-

This is an entirely different thing.

He needs to call Breha and tell her, he thinks, briefly, before he has to wonder if Breha remembers either. If it's really just him. That does make the most sense, as Bail is the one who had done all the mistakes, not Breha.

Perhaps he's in his thoughts for longer than he thinks he is, because suddenly the door is sliding open, and Fox is stumbling in, his hands already pulling his helmet off of his head.

"I'm here", he says. He's breathing hard, like he had just been running. "What's going on?"

"I'm not sure-" Sheltay starts, but Bail doesn't hear what she is saying. He stands up, and walks towards Fox. Fox, who is hurrying to put his helmet down on the desk, in order to get his hands free, and then walking towards him.

Bail looks at him as he walks. He remembers it all now, how Fox used to look back then during this time. The way his hair curls over his forehead, where the silver strands are on his temples, how his eyes shift from dark brown to golden when the sliver of sunlight from the window hits them just right. There are a few things missing, things that Bail knows only came later. The way his skin would be bruised just from pure exhaustion. The way he would be tense, even when he was trying to relax, just for a moment. This was, is, before all of that. This is before that one night, when everything had started to unravel. This is before Fox had started to cry himself to sleep every night, calling himself all the horrible names there existed in the Galaxy.

This is before all of that. Fox still looks just like he had when he had still looked at Bail and Breha with wonder in his eyes and a smile on his lips whenever they would say I love you.

He looks just as beautiful as Bail remembers.

Fox opens his mouth to say something, but he is so close already, and Bail cannot wait for anything. He pulls Fox into his arms and holds him, trying to feel him through the armor. He buries his face into Fox's neck, not caring about the cold, hard alloy of his pauldron digging into him, and thinks he can hear his heartbeat beneath the warm, tan skin.

There are hands on his back, then one at the back of his head.

"Bail?" He hears Fox's voice clearly from this close, even though he is speaking quietly, almost whispering. "Are you alright?"

Bail breathes in Fox's scent before answering, a mixture of regulation soap, bolt residue and armor polish and just him beneath it all.

"Yes."

"You're crying."

Oh. Bail lifts his face up, just a bit, and blinks. There are tears stuck to his eyelashes, heavy and warm, and he thinks he can see some having landed on Fox as well, if he looks closely enough.

"I'm sorry", he mumbles. It has been a while he has cried, or been overwhelmed like this. He had not given himself permission for being nothing else but calm, when he had heard about Leia being captured. He had not let himself cry when he had held Breha as they awaited for their death, no matter how much he had wanted to do so. Breha had needed him too much for him to fall apart even more.

"It's okay", Fox says. He is carding his fingers through Bail's hair. "What's going on?"

So much. So much is going on, and Bail doesn't know where or when to start.

He knows he needs to decide on those, sooner or later, but before any of that, he has one thing to say.

"I love you", he whispers against Fox's skin.

Fox stills, just for a moment, a moment long enough for Bail to wonder if the version of him Fox had known before in this time had even gotten to say it yet.

Then he continues, running his fingers up and down, his other hand on Bail's back holding onto him just a little tighter.

"I love you too", he whispers back. Bail closes his eyes.

When he opens them, he's ready to take on the Galaxy, once again.

#do you believe me if I say this was supposed to be just a short little snippet lmao #in the actual time travel fix-it idea I have in my head all three of them know and are aware #and the relationship is developing during the second life #but I wanted to write something where they were a thing before already and suddenly everybody is alive for one of them #I decided it was Bail's turn to cry lmao so he got picked for that role he deserves to be the babygirl for once #Fox and Sheltay are very concerned #but then Bail tells them that they gotta kill Palpatine and Fox is on board instantly #sw #tcw #my writing #ficlet #time travel au #one of a kind at least #Bail Organa #Commander Fox #bail/breha/fox #Sheltay Retrac #Star Writing

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