Bittersweet Sugar - An ACOTAR fanfiction

Chapter 5 - Reminiscence

Feyre awoke to the sound of a laugh of delight.
Not a scream, not a screeching alarm, not a shout of "Feyre! Feyre! You have to get up now!". A musical, bubbly laugh. Where was she? Not her own bed. Not Tamlin's. So....
Oh my god, I'm in Rhysand's bed.
Feyre groaned. Last night had been a mix of horror and joy. Horror being Tamlin's input. Joy being Rhysand's. She raised a hand to her face. The agonising pain was absent. Feyre wondered exactly how she would explain this to Nesta and Elain if they bothered to ask. They most likely wouldn't, though. Feyre didn't mind. It was one less thing to worry about.

But...who was laughing? Not Rhysand. No, this voice was high-pitched and unmistakably female. Not a girlfriend of Rhysand's - the public knew well enough that he was available. And besides, he wouldn't have given her his bed and told her he cared for her if he had a girlfriend. Right? Right, Feyre decided firmly. The laugh sounded again, just as bright as the first time. Feyre sat up, curious but cautious.
What had even happened last night to leave her in Rhys' bed? Had they....no. At least, it didn't feel like it. Had he slept there as well?
If he had, Feyre couldn't blame him. It was his bed and she had... fallen asleep in his arms?
Oh god, she had. Right there. Rhys had a small apartment on top of the coffee shop for "emergencies". Feyre had fallen asleep on him. There was only one armchair, and Rhys had seemed so inviting...
So she'd curled up in his arms and went to sleep.

Feyre mentally slapped herself. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Although she did have to give Rhys credit for not kicking her out or doing anything creepy. A deep voice that Feyre recognized as Rhys immediately muttered something to his female companion. It was met with another bout of sunshine laughter and Feyre could almost hear the warmth and the smile in it.
  It sounded like a laugh Feyre herself could have had if she wasn't as cold and broken.
But Feyre wasn't jealous. No, she wished nothing but happiness towards the girl with the sunshine laughter.

She figured it would be fine if she left the room and greeted whoever happened to be below. After all, this wasn't her home - she had no right to lounge in Rhys' bed while he did the hard work. She had a job here, after all!
Well, if Rhys still wanted her here. Would he?
The only way to find out was to get her lazy self out of bed and go find out. Which is exactly what Feyre did. Well, she would have, but the bed was so comfy and by Rhys' alarm clock it was five a.m. so Feyre sighed and nestled back into the warm ebony coloured covers.

She awoke again much later, aware of a presence in the room. Feyre had always been a light sleeper- back in the day of her family's poverty, her life had practically depended on it.
As a poor family with a permanently injured father and no mother, the three sisters had been left to fend for themselves- and also defend themselves. A burglar had broke in once to their small "hovel", as Nesta called it, intending to steal some of their few worthy possessions. Feyre had woken and managed to fend him off before he took anything valuable.  Nesta and Elain had bracelets of iron, bought to "ward evil spirits away". Feyre hadn't received one- her sisters had went shopping with her precious money that she had made solely by her own cunning and spent it on stupid bracelets. The anger had eaten at her for days after, making Feyre irritable and generally in a pissy mood.

  What had angered her more, though, was when they whined about Feyre working.
"But we need you here! You do the housework! You can't work. You just can't!" they had argued, but to no avail. Feyre was not their slave nor their maid and even now her sisters treated her as less than them, even Elain.
Elain, so naive and "too soft" to help her. Anger threatened to consume Feyre even now at the mere memories. Elain, her oh so idiotic older sister. She would have been content to let them all starve just so long as she had a new pet to coo over. Then there was Nesta. Nesta, who whined and snarled and bit when cornered. But Feyre understood her more than she understood Elain. She was scared and angry and hurting and had to direct her pain somewhere, so she had directed it at Feyre. Feyre, with eyes that matched hers and a will so strong it matched Nesta's own. Feyre had not been okay with letting them all starve and she knew Nesta felt guilty about not stepping up, despite how loathe she was to admit it.

"Hello, Feyre Darling," breathed a male voice. Rhys. It was Rhys in the room. Feyre had been so caught up in her thoughts that she hadn't even noticed or called out. "Hi," Feyre greeted.
"It's only nine o'clock, but I thought you might want a warning before all of my...friends...gather and disrupt you."
Friends? Why had he hesitated? Who? Feyre's mind was racing. "Sorry for falling asleep," she said in lieu of a proper response. It was all she could think to say, strange as it was.
Rhys simply chuckled and responded,"Don't be. You're quite adorable when you're snoring."
Feyre felt her face heat and mentally cursed herself. "I don't snore!" she snapped, but there was no real bite to it.
"If that helps you sleep at night, sure you don't," Rhys joked. She mentally cursed him too. Feyre sat up, groaning, then stood.
"Bit of a rude awakening?" Rhys asked with his trademark smirk.
Feyre could only smile in return. Then curse as she tripped over a stray shoe. Rhys laughed, Feyre swore and after a while she found it funny. After quite a while. People from downstairs (Rhys' friends?) began talking. A whistling kettle could be heard even over all the chatter. The nosies blended together and separated and Feyre found herself marvelling at the fact that people could be so happy in a world that was cruel and dark and tried to break their spirits and wipe away their smiles.
Feyre felt more at home here than she did in her own home and that scared her.