A Court of Fire and Shadows.

chapter thirteen.

Elena wakes up with a groan, looking around the room, finding herself feeling rested. Sitting up slowly and seeing Azriel pulling on pants, the muscles in his back flexing rather nicely. Staring at him for a few seconds before realizing he was putting on pants. Clearing her throat and beginning to stand up, checking she still had her pants on, which she did, thank the gods.

"We didn't like- you know-" she mutters as he turns around, and he lets out a laugh, shaking his head.

"Cauldron no. We slept, that's it," he says, sounding as if doing something with her was the last thing he would ever want to do, and that thought made something unexpectedly twist in her chest.

"Yes, because fucking me is the worst thing that could possibly happen," she mutters, hating how she sounded. Azriel turned to face her, his brow furrowed, his shirt skew.

She just shakes her head slightly, standing up and walking towards him, straightening out his shirt. She could feel his eyes on her as she does up the last of the buttons, before turning and walking to the door.

But Azriel stops her, his hand pulling her back gently, so she was standing in front of him again, although she won't meet his eyes. Confused as to what he was doing, before he pulled her against his chest, his arms wrapping around her tightly, his nose buried into her hair. And she slowly wraps her own arms around his middle, although her's can't fit all the way around, listening his heartbeat, her cheek pressed up against his chest.

"You know I didn't mean it like that, princess," he whispers into her hair, and she slowly pulls back to look at him. And he looked at her, his one hand coming out to cup her cheek, his thumb rubbing over her cheekbone as she tilts her cheek into his hand, letting out a deep breath.

A knock sounded on the door, and they both sprung apart, cheeks blazing, Elena already moving to pick up all her things.

And she supposed it was only fitting that the woman knocking on the door was none other than the same woman she'd walked in on after the battle, the one who was tangled up in him, tasting him as if he was her favorite sweet. That idea alone made her feel nauseous.

But Azriel pushes past the other woman, gently, standing in his doorway, going after her.
"Elena-" he grinds out, his jaw clenched.
But she cuts him off, "Why is she here Azriel. Maybe a quick fuck before breakfast? I'm not mad at you, just angry I couldn't leave fast enough to give you two some alone time. Now seriously, I've got shit to do-" she turns on her heel, continuing to walk down the passage, Azriel's hand lashing out to close around her arm, pulling her back to him. "Don't touch me," she snarls, and surprisingly enough, he dropped her arm immediately, although his face didn't soften.

"Stop it. I have no idea why she's here, I broke everything off with her the day you saw us, I just hated the way you looked at me, even if it was just for a split second before that cool wall of yours went up. And I knew I had to, I needed to do anything I could to not make you look at me like that again. And then you did, that night at the bar. As soon as you turned your back on me I felt as though all the walls were closing in and I couldn't breathe, and I felt absolutely ridiculous because I didn't even know you! But I know you now, and I know you're not just going to hate me for whatever the fuck just happened."

Elena stared at him, at his ruffled hair and his chest that was rising and falling quicker than usual. "Can we talk after breakfast?" is all she says, before turning and striding back down the hall. Her mind was racing, thoughts of his confession swirling around and around and around. She didn't want to walk away. She wanted to kiss him until he forgot how to speak, how to breathe. She wanted to run her fingers through his hair and make it even more messy, wanted his hands to roam wherever they pleased. But everything was too much, too soon, too strong.