hearts of metal

xxxix. don't touch me like that

Rowan was seeing red. He usually avoided interacting with people at events like these and opted to observe silently instead.

Tonight, his eyes had barely left Aelin. He watched as she charmed everyone she talked to. Anytime someone's eyes lingered too long on her scarred back or the slip of skin exposed at her leg, he had to bite back a growl.

He also watched her dance with the others, mostly Fenrys. When she was with his friends, he was at least comfortable with her safety. They wouldn't let anyone touch her, nor were they interested in her as anything more than a friend.

She was laughing at Lorcan, while trying to step on his toes. The man tried to return the favor, but she was too quick. At least someone was having a good time, he thought sullenly.

But then someone unfamiliar went up to her, and he was instantly alert. The stranger grinned brightly, and what was worse, Aelin smiled right back.

The two made their way to the dance floor. Rowan watched with growing irritation as the man held onto Aelin's waist. He swore to Hellas if the man's hands dipped any lower, he would physically remove them.

Rowan lasted a couple minutes (quite an achievement) before striding over and interrupting them, eager to separate the two. The man had the audacity to wink at Aelin before leaving.

He swallowed the urge to scoff at the man, instead taking his place dancing with Aelin. Slowly, he put his hands on her back, brushing the bare skin there.

Aelin didn't seem angry or surprised. Instead, she had the same look on as in the car. Like she was itching to test his patience. "You know," she murmured, "I've been waiting for you to dance with me all night. If I'd known all it took was dancing with a cute guy, I would have done it sooner."

Hellas help him.

Maybe Aelin was having a little too much fun teasing Rowan tonight. First in the car, then while dancing. Could you blame her for wanting a bit of a reaction?

It didn't help that he looked amazing in his tux. Her eyes trailed appreciatively up his figure, all the way to the tattoo peaking out of the white dress shirt.

"Who was that?" Rowan grumbled.

"An old friend," she said nonchalantly. "Why? Is there a problem, Whitethorn?"

"No," he muttered, but his hands tightened around her waist.

She smirked up at him. She remembered the incident at her birthday party with Dorian, when he'd acted all protective only to claim it was on behalf of Aedion. This time, though, Aelin was sure it was jealousy.

After all, his eyes had hardly left her all night. Trailing up and down her figure, the same she was doing to him. The dress really was killer.

"Maybe he was an old fling," she admitted. Slight exaggeration. They hadn't done more than flirt, but she wasn't going to tell Rowan that. Might as well see how far she could push him till he snapped.

A muscle in his jaw ticked. "His hands were awfully low," he muttered.

"Like this?" She moved his hands lower, laughing when they immediately sprang back up to her back. "Lighten up. You're so tense."

Rowan relaxed slightly. As the music picked up, he sent her a small smile and began moving faster. They were waltzing in mini circles, and Aelin found herself growing slightly dizzy.

He twirled her in turn with the music, before tugging her back towards him.

"You're a good dancer," Aelin mused. "Have you been holding out on me?"

"I'm good at lots of things," he said.

"I guess socializing is not on that list," she remarked. "You've been hiding in a corner and glaring at everyone."

"Not everyone," he said sullenly. "Just that friend of yours."

She hummed and rested her head on his chest as they danced.

"You really do look gorgeous tonight," he murmured.

Aelin leaned back and grinned up at him, her insides warm and fluttery. "Why, thank you. You look quite dashing yourself, tonight." She moved one hand to the edge of his tattoo, trailing the ink up his neck.

"Aelin," he muttered tightly.

"What?"

"Stop it."

"Or?"

"Or I won't be able to stop myself."

Who said I wanted you to, buzzard? Aelin thought.

"And if I mentioned that I'm not wearing anything under the dress?" she said coyly.

Rowan felt his self control snap, already worn out too thin. Before he could stop himself, he was dragging Aelin out of the ballroom into the quiet hall. "You wicked thing," he muttered. He pinned her to the walls.

She looked up at him with a fiery gaze, the gold in her eyes shimmering even in the dim light.

They were only inches apart, and his mind was blaring that it was too close. But his body thought it was too far and ached to fill the space between them and devour her soft, crimson painted lips...

Aelin was perfect. Strong and gorgeous, but stubborn and infuriating at the same time. A knack for getting under his skin and never leaving.

He never wanted her to leave.

He was in love with Aelin Galathynius. The realization washed over him like a bucket of ice, chilling the very blood in his veins. Because he didn't deserve her...not after he'd failed Lyria so harshly.

A hand drifted to his cheek softly, and Rowan tensed. "Don't touch me like that," he said. He hardly recognized the cold voice that came out, too swept up in his confusing flurry of self hatred and regret.

Aelin immediately retracted her hand, as if burned. Her brows furrowed as she stared up at him. "I'm sorry," she rushed out. She made to flee, but Rowan didn't move his arms from where they were caging her in.

"Let me go, Rowan," she said. There was doubt flickering in her eyes, which he hated himself for putting there.

"I don't want to," he muttered, fighting to keep his voice softer.

Her frown lingered. "Are you kidding me?" she said with a bite to her voice. The doubt melted away into anger, and Rowan was glad. He'd take the anger. He never wanted her to think she wasn't enough, when she was everything to him.

"What's your deal, Whitethorn?" She shoved him by the shoulders, and he let her push him away.

His thoughts were churning too fast for him to decipher. His nightmares flooded back. Lyria, on the ground in a pool of blood. Her brown hair spread out around her. "I can't," he choked out.

She stared at him with furrowed brows, until her expression softened. Her mouth parted in some sort of realization. Like maybe she understood. She had lost someone too, after all. Her voice was firm as she said, "come find me when you know what you want."

Then she turned on her heel and left. Left him staring at the wall where she'd just been and cursing himself.