hearts of metal

xxxv. can i stay with you

Aelin Ashryver Galathynius was in love with Rowan Whitethorn. There. She could admit it, if only to herself in a dark room at night. If only after dreams of Sam melted into dreams of Rowan.

She'd see Sam, sprawled lifeless across a metal table. The scene would warp and shift till it was Rowan in his place, skin a couple of shades too pale. Then she'd awake with trembling limbs and sweat dripping down her neck.

It had been a week since her birthday. Every encounter with Rowan, no matter how small, left her heart beating too quickly.

A brush of hands under the table. Eye contact across the living room.

Currently, she was trying to be subtle while watching Rowan discuss something with Aedion. Work related, she was sure, if the furrow in his eyebrows was any indication. She wanted to wipe away that worry, but instead she tore her gaze away.

"Done ogling Whitethorn?" Lorcan whispered into her ear.

She elbowed him soundly, grinning when he grunted in pain. "Fuck you."

He laughed. "Please. Ever since your birthday, you've been so obvious. The only one who doesn't know is Rowan himself and your dumbass brother."

"Jerk," she hissed.

"Bitch."

"I think you mean fire breathing bitch queen," she said mockingly.

"You-"

Vaughan pointedly cleared his throat across from them. "No fighting, kids."

Aelin and Lorcan both scowled. "I'm right though," he murmured slowly.

She was about to snap another retort, when Aedion interrupted from across the table. "Where's that necklace from, Ae?" His gaze was focused on the gold fireheart necklace, right beside her locket.

"One of my friend's gave it to me. For my birthday," she said smoothly. Her eyes met Rowan's knowingly.

Lorcan snorted beside her. This time, she kicked him in the shins.

He cursed under his breath, and Aedion raised an eyebrow at the two. Her brother didn't ask any more questions though and turned back to his work.

"I hate you, Salvaterre," she said.

"Likewise Galathynius."

Vaughan rolled his eyes across from them.

Rowan didn't think he could fall in love again. He didn't deserve it. Not after Lyria.

He tried to pay attention to Aedion's words, but half of his focus was on Aelin. She was bickering with Lorcan, their words too soft for him to catch.

Aelin elbowed Lorcan sharply, then grinned. Rowan's stomach flipped at the sight. He'd never get tired of seeing her smile, nor the way it lit up the room.

And when Aedion asked about the necklace and Aelin said it had been a gift from a friend, Rowan most certainly did not feel disappointment. They were friends. That was all.

It had become a near constant mantra anytime he saw Aelin.

Rowan left later that day without seeing Aelin again. He went home, had dinner with his family, and went to bed. What he didn't expect were the dreams.

He re-lived Lyria's death in those nightmares. But gradually, the images morphed into Aelin. And then, it was blonde hair instead of brunette hair soaked in blood. Blue eyes instead of brown staring lifelessly at him. Aelin instead of Lyria he had failed.

Rowan awoke with a start. Unable to go back to sleep, he lurched out of bed and threw on his shoes before sneaking out.

This was a habit of his. Sneaking out at night to go to the Galathynius household. Sometimes he sought out the twins, if they were awake. Other times, he'd find Rhoe and Aedion and help them with work.

But today, there was one person on his mind.

Aelin was reading in a corner of the library when she finally noticed the time. It was well into the night already, but the storm outside was calming and pulled her into a peaceful reading trance.

With a sigh, she put the book down and made her way out. She walked down the hall, but the door to the garden caught her attention. It was slightly open, as if someone hadn't properly shut it, and there were pools of water inside.

Cautiously, she approached the door and swung it open. The sound of pattering rain instantly intensified, droplets striking her face and clothes. She noticed someone standing out in the garden.

Her hand was already reaching for a knife, when the figure shifted and silver hair glinted in the dim light.

Aelin stepped into the pouring rain with a nervous heart. She let the door shut behind her, then stepped forward.

"Hey, buzzard," she greeted. The lone figure turned, hair drenched and falling into his eyes. He didn't respond, and her heart pounded. "It's late. What are you doing here?"

He took a few steps towards her, arms wrapping around her waist. She froze at the unexpected hug, but slowly responded.

The rain continued to rage around them. "You okay?" she asked into his ear.

He nodded his head, without pulling away. "Couldn't sleep."

"Why don't we get you inside?" she said, before leading him in. They entered the house, the rain quieting behind them, and trudged upstairs to her room. "Wait here," she said, once they were standing near her bed. She left to steal some clothes from Fenrys' room, then returned.

Rowan hadn't moved an inch. He took the clothes he was handed and slowly looked up to meet her eyes. He was still dripping onto the floor, so she nudged him towards the bathroom.

He walked away, leaving her to change in the bedroom. The soaked clothes were dumped into a corner.

By the time Rowan emerged, Aelin was already sitting on her bed. She patted the space beside her, and Rowan took a seat there.

She grasped his hands and hers and allowed the silence to swim between them. He'd talk if he wanted.

After a couple of minutes passed, he said. "I dreamt of Lyria. I haven't had dreams of her in a while, but tonight...I kept seeing her." He described his dreams slowly, having to stop several times. At one point, he started to say more, but cut off. Whatever else he saw, he didn't seem to want to tell her.

All the while, Aelin's heart sank. She was no stranger to nightmares of death, but to see Rowan so shaken...She squeezed his hand in silent comfort.

He leaned his head onto her shoulder. "Did I ever tell you what my tattoo meant?"

She glanced at him in interest. "No. It's the Old Language, isn't it?"

"It is. It's the story about Lyria. Who she was to me, how she died. It's supposed to be a reminder."

A reminder. The words slammed into her.

Her eyes trailed over the tattoo with new appreciation. "I know you won't believe me, but what happened to her wasn't your fault. She wouldn't blame you."

He glanced up and gave her a wry smile. "I could say the same to you about Sam."

"Yeah, you could," she breathed. "What do you need?"

"Just-can I stay with you tonight?" he avoided her gaze, uncharacteristically nervous.

It had been a while since they'd shared a bed. Aelin couldn't deny that her feelings had changed wildly since then. Just the thought of Rowan spending the night beside her sent her heart into overdrive.

But he needed the comfort, so she nodded. "Of course."

Without another word, the two clambered under the covers.