i n t h e s h a d o w s - a z r i e l (slow updates)

Chapter 3

He was staring at her while she was telling him how she'd met Feyre. Her smile was huge and she sometimes stops talking to laugh . He had to admit that the story was funny. She explained that there was a party for artists and she came dressing as Van Gogh, Feyre came as "Starry Night" They had both looked at each other then nobody could stop them from laughing. They'd stayed with each other for the rest of the evening and they became best friends. After that, they were always together doing bad jokes to people. She smiled at the memories then looked at Azriel who offered her a cup of tea.

She took the cup, brushing his scarred hand. He flinched, scared that she would find him horrible but when he looked at her there was only curiosity and understanding. "Scars don't disappear even if you're immortal?" Her eyes met his and his heart melted. There was no pity in them, just understanding. He saw she was hiding her left wrist while saying this. Surely that was something she didn't realize she was doing but she did it as a habit. He immediately knew what she was trying to hide. He understood now why she asked him that. She didn't want anybody to see hers. He sat beside her and brush her arm. "You saw mine, it would be fair that I see yours. I won't tell anyone, I promise." He looked at her in the eyes and sensed her relax. He gently took her wrist and looked down to see a map of scars. Some were deep, others were light cuts. He hid the pain in his eyes because he knew that it won't help her but it did hurt him. He couldn't erase the image of her, hurting herself.

She showed her scars to someone. She'd never done that. Even Feyre doesn't know about this. And now that she saw him staring at her scars she felt weird. However, it was comforting that she was not the only one who had scars. Seeing his scarred hand holding her scarred wrist was somehow reassuring. He finally looked at her and offered her a warm smile. It was a faint smile but it lightened the room. He surely didn't smile often because if he did, he would have a ton of women at his feet. Well, even if he doesn't smile, she doesn't understand why he doesn't have someone. He was not just handsome but he was so kind and warm. Even with his shadows around him, he was like the light you see in the darkness. A faint light but you know that if you come closer, it will light you too.

She was drowning in his hazel eyes when he said "A story for a story?" She frowned but didn't ask what he meant because she immediately understood as he looked down at his hand still holding her wrist.

"I was so young when it happened. I lived with my father, my stepmother and my two half-brothers. My stepmother locked me in a cell without any light or windows." She flinched as she remembered the month in the Autumn Court."For eleven years, she'd trapped me there and let me go outside only an hour a day and let me see my mother for an hour every week. My Illyrian instincts had pushed me to train and fly but I was not allowed to do so.

"I was eight when it happened. My half-brothers poured oil on my hands then lit them on fire to see for how long I could stand it. Warriors saved me when they heard my screams. They sent me to an Illyrian training camp. There, I was well-treated because of my shadowsinging gifts but the scars remained." He finally looked at her and let go of her wrist, seeing her tears running down her face. He knew they were because of the story he just told but also because he accidentally hurt her. He hadn't seen he was squeezing her wrist so hard because of the memories. However, she hadn't stop him. She knew he had to tell this to someone, to let go of this burden. She was right because he felt better now. Well just for a second because seeing her crying broke his heart. "I'm sorry I-I didn't see I was hurting you I-"

"Don't, don't apologize. You had to take that burden off your shoulders. This," she looked at her wrist, "it's nothing." She took his hand and let her fingers run on his scars. He did the same with her wrist and they stayed like that for a few minutes. He finally took her chin to lift her head so he can look at her. "A story for a story, remember?" He smiled at her as she looked at her scars. "Let's say I had a rough beginning. " She felt like her pain was nothing beside his. She didn't want to bother him with her story now. She knew he waited for her to continue but she couldn't.

He looked at her. "You don't have to be scared to tell me you know," he said taking her hand. "You have a burden to take off your shoulders as well."

And so she did. She told him everything. Her childhood, when her father had beaten her for the first time, her mother doing nothing against it. The fear that she'd felt just by hearing her father's footsteps. She told him how she had been feeling better when she'd painted or sung. She told him about the library of the village where she'd hid all day and read for hours to escape from her life. He flinched when she mentioned all the nights that she'd spent crying because she was so scared of the dark but she couldn't turn on the light because it would've made her father angry and he would've beaten her. Tears were running down her face as she continued her story. The moment she'd decided to run away and went to an abandoned farm. She had a faint smile when she said that she'd met Feyre just after that and that she'd taught her how to hunt. She had been gazing while telling him her story but when she looked at her wrist she bit her bottom lip. "These were to escape from my life too. When you cut yourself, you focus on the pain so you forget about your life for a bit. It's a drug." She finally looked at him. Her cheeks were red, her eyes burning but she didn't care because she finally told someone. It was a relief to share this with someone. It was hard at first but then she'd lost it. She was lost in her memories, living her past again.

She closed her eyes when he brushed his hand on her cheek, wiping her tears off. He took her in his arms and stroke her hair looking blankly at nothing as he saw the images of her past like it was his. He felt her pain and fears as she was lost in her past, images flashing in both of their heads. She eventually fell asleep.

He watched her sleeping in his arms as he thought about their evening. It had been emotional but they both felt better after telling each other their story. In more than five hundred years, he hadn't opened up to someone like that. He had told a bit to Rhysand and Cassian but not like that.

When he looked at the clock on the wall, he decided to put her in bed as it was already midnight and they had to wake up early tomorrow. He carefully put her in the bed then headed to the couch where he will sleep this night. As soon as he closed his eyes, he began to dream. It was dark, he couldn't see anything but heard voices. Male voices. They were in the same room as him and they were laughing. Their laughs made him shiver but that wasn't the only sound in the dark. He heard someone sobbing and trying to calm his breaths. At first, he was confused about finding out the sounds were coming from him but then he understood. It was not him, it was Eileánóir. She was dreaming and was unconsciously sending her nightmares to him. In seconds he was in the room where he'd put her minutes before. The vision in front of him broke his heart. Eileánóir was crying, she kept saying "stop" as she struggled with nothing. She was just beating the air but just by closing his eyes, he saw she was trying to break free from the grip of a man of the Autumn Court. He recognized a warrior. He swore he will kill him for what he did to her then slowly took her in his arms to calm her. He took several kicks but he didn't care. He couldn't stand the vision of her, hurt. Even after a few minutes, she was still terrified and the kicks didn't ease so he closed his eyes and concentrated on an image of the cottage at dawn with her, painting in the garden. He managed to send her the image and she finally calmed down, the peaceful image replacing her nightmare. He stroked her back, still thinking about the image, scared that if he let go of the vision, her nightmares would start again. So he spent the night there, beside her, thinking about a peaceful morning where the mortal woman could paint. He fell asleep after hours of looking after her, ensuring she did not start to dream again.

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Hey! I really love this chapter! I wrote this one with all my heart so I feel it's the best one by now :)

I feel like I had to write about them sharing their past and it turned out as I wanted to be. If you suffer from something that they mentioned or anything that hurt you like they hurt Az and Eil', find someone to talk with. I can tell you that it helps to find someone that will understand or just listen to your story, your fears. You can always send me a private message if needed, I'm not the best at comforting someone but just telling someone will help you, even a bit.

So... Yep that was an emotional chapter but there will be happier ones, I promise ;)