𝒜 𝒞𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝑅𝑒𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒮𝒸𝒶𝓇𝓈 | ᴀᴢʀɪᴇʟ

Chapter 114

Chapter 114

The morning sun was a glorious thing. Arwen thought so, at least, and decided to spend her morning underneath it. The vines wrapped around the webbing of the lattice tickled her neck and snagged her hair, and the late summer blooms were a strange concoction in her nose. The stone path she sat upon, legs outstretched before her, was warm and almost uncomfortably so but a weight resting on her thighs kept them from lifting.

Arwen paused from her writing, the parchment rested on the stone next to her, to smile at Azriel's eased expression. His eyes were closed over, dark lashes dusting his cheeks. "Do you not have work to do today?" she asked.

He took a long breath, eyes remaining closed. "Do not speak to me of work. It ruins..." He trailed off, lifting a hand and making a loose wave. "This."

She kept her chuckle silent if only not to disturb him further. It was awkward attempting to write a letter at the angle she did and used a flat book to prop it up but she wouldn't dare ask him to move. Instead, she rested her palm on his far cheek and let her thumb idly move as her concentration went back to the words she would be sending off to Kallias whom she would be visiting in a few short weeks.

"What are you thinking about that has you so relaxed?" she asked after signing off the letter and reaching for her now cold tea.

"The song you played on the pianoforte last night," he said, one corner of his lips turning up.

Arwen frowned. "I didn't play on... Oh." She had indeed made noises with her body and the ivory keys. "I'm not sure that's a relaxing thing to think about." Her heartbeat sped at the mere thought. "But I'm glad to know it made a lasting impression."

Azriel sighed and lifted his head, angling towards her with a hand bracing him on the other side of her legs. "Clearly it's not what you're thinking about." Humming, she thought about what to answer with. A hooked finger lifted her fallen chin. "Tell me."

Placing down her tea, her fingers went into her lap to fiddle with themselves. "Cassian," she admitted, pushing her thoughts of Elain to the side. "I'm worried. We've fought before but this one felt bigger."

"He was worried for you, as I was."

"He was also angry, as you were."

He smiled. "And look how easy it was for us to make things right again. You worry for no reason."

Arwen sighed and rested her head against the lattice which was marginally uncomfortable. "Cassian is not you. And I..."

Azriel tilted his head to her height. "And you what?"

Guilt swelled in her heart. "After you left I threw some things away," she admitted, hoping that he would say something that she could spring the conversation off to anything else, but he remained waiting. "I threw the bracelet away that he gave me. The one with the amethyst. Into the fireplace."

His eyes went to her now empty wrist where it had come to sit every day but was now bare.

"I threw my birthday present to you in there too," she whispered, hiding her wrist in her lap. "I'm sorry."

Azriel's expression softened. He assessed her quietly for a few moments, then asked, "What did you get me?"

She looked away. "It doesn't matter. It's gone now, burnt to ash."

"It matters to me. I want to know what you thought to give me, so I can appreciate it nevertheless."

His hazel eyes had a way of drawing hers back. "Drawings," she answered beneath her breath. "I was making a scrapbook of my favourite memories of you."