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highqueenofelfhame · 2 years

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a/n: my god, i have been working on this literally for a year. or, at least sitting on it since all too well tmv came out. as soon as i heard it, i knew i wanted to turn my two illicit affairs drabbles into a full story that has been dancing in the forefront of my mind since my first listen. this is the illicit affairs story. it was initially meant to be a oneshot, but it's getting so long i've been advised to split it up into parts. this is part one. i hope you enjoy. please please please reblog this so others can see it. i've been working so goddamn hard on it and if it flops i will be so sad lol. ok ok ok enough from me, on with the show.

rowaelin // 14,994 words // all too well playlist // masterlist

The buzzing of voices filled the bar like a large swarm of bumblebees occupying the space. Friday nights tended to be rather crowded and full of an eclectic group of people that fought over the old jukebox in the back corner of the main room. The patrons ranged from college students to working professionals, all of them sipping their preferred poison while swapping stories of their days and sharing the gossip of the moment. A few swayed to the music on the tiny dance floor, laughing with friends and speaking loud enough to be heard over the crowded din.

Neon lights cast nearly ominous glows over every surface. It would have a much colder vibe if it weren’t for the warmth of the Edison bulbs dangling from the ceiling. In the end it created a lovely atmosphere to decompress after a long week, and that was precisely why the Staghorn was so cherished amongst the locals. It looked more like a dive bar on the outside, but the inside was well cared for and loved by everyone who lived in Orynth. It was usually tourist-free, and while most of the older crowd would prefer if the rowdy college students would choose somewhere else to gather, no one really complained about the company they might find sandwiched in its walls.

It was the week of Samhuinn, and there was no shortage of students running around campus in elaborate or silly costumes. In the back room that housed the pool table and dartboards, Aelin Galathynius was perched on a bar stool with a cocktail straw pinched between her teeth while her best friend gave her a rundown of the fashion crimes committed this week on campus. Her nose was still burning from the stream of gin that had come out of it when Lysandra went into painstakingly accurate detail of the too-small dinosaur onesie she had seen trekking across the courtyard Wednesday morning.

It was her brother’s turn with the darts, and, despite giggling her way through Lysandra’s story, Aelin’s eyes were razor focused on if Aedion’s aim would stay true or land slightly to the left like it often did. He was her true competitor in the game they were playing, and nobody else ever came close despite the full roster of names on the scoreboard below theirs.

Each Friday was essentially a night full of wagers amongst their friends for which of them would come out on top. Several regulars usually watched the two take their turns, the blunted edge of the dart finding its home in or very close to the bullseye with every throw. Aedion and Aelin held the top two spots, though a third had appeared a few days ago that was dangerously close to knocking Aedion out of his second-place spot. Tiny tally marks noted who had won how many games in any available space between letters, and numbers indicated their highest scores. While her brother boasted the most wins, Aelin was more than proud to gush about having the highest score. It drove Aedion to near madness, made even worse by Aelin creeping up to steal the victory of most games won by him, too.

Seldom were other names present on their chalkboard, but a few had managed to take a permanent spot with them in the last few weeks. She knew that if Aedion lost that second-place spot, all hell would break loose, and the will to keep competing against his sister would go down the toilet while he sulked into a pitcher of beer for an evening.

Ace Ashryver Bitchthorn Salvaterre Fen

That was the list of names shaded in red from the sign above, Bitchthorn, making her laugh the most, considering she was pretty sure it had said Whitethorn at one point or another.

“Fuck,” Aedion groaned, stalking to retrieve his darts almost before Aelin even had time to process what a shitty throw he’d made.

“Are you even trying?” Aelin placed her drink on the table beside her, ice clinking melodically in the glass. “At this rate, whoever Bitchthorn is will take your second-place ranking, and you’ll be down to third place. How does that feel, big brother?”

“For that comment, I am only claiming you as a cousin.”

“I’m going to tell mom that you said that,” she teased while snagging her own darts from their placeholders on the wall. She wouldn’t; they both knew that. When Aedion’s mother died in childbirth, and his father died when he was three while on a deployment in the Wastes, it had stayed a sore subject for just about everyone. There were times when they could joke about it and times they couldn’t. They never could to her mother. It made her feel like she’d failed her sister, Aerin, and the nephew-turned-son left to her charge.

“In that case, I hope Bitchthorn destroys us both because your ego clearly needs to be knocked down a couple of notches.”

Aelin was grinning widely at the taunts, standing with the tips of her toes just kissing the line from where she was meant to throw. She took her stance, legs shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, shoulders and arms loose and ready to fire. The dart was evenly weighted and cool between her fingertips as she rolled it back and forth, slowing her thoughts until the voices and music became nothing more than a dull buzz in her ears. Despite the alcohol coursing through her system, she only saw the red circle in the center of the board. Aelin threw the dart on an exhale, and it found its mark dead-center. The second dart notched just below the first but still inside the bullseye.

Just as she released the third, a hard body knocked into her and completely threw off her aim. Aedion howled as the dart embedded itself in the wall above the target while Aelin whipped around to scowl at the hulking brute that ruined her game. She was still leading on Aedion, but now he had more of a chance at redemption. She hadn’t even come close to hitting the board because of him.

This time, the muffled sounds of the bar had little to do with concentration and everything to do with anger. Much of it dissipated when she took in the face of the man whose hands were heavy on her shoulders to steady her from falling over. Gods above, he was beautiful.

“Sorry about that,” he said sheepishly, tucking a piece of golden hair behind his ear. His other hand dropped from her shoulder.

“Don’t be. I might actually get to win now,” Aedion shouted, his low chuckles still shaking his body. Lysandra backhanded his shoulder.

“She gets to throw again. That was interference.” Aelin turned toward the voice that said it, thankful that someone was going to be on her side. Her defense was the kind of man that she drooled over. Well over six feet tall and tattooed, he had one hand in his pocket while the other held a glass tumbler of something dark. Aelin guessed whiskey– it seemed to fit the bill based on appearance alone. If his rolling, lilting accent hadn’t done it for her, everything else about him really, really did.

Sure, the guy that had ruined her shot was easily the most beautiful man she had ever seen in her life, but the one leaning against the table with piercing green eyes that she didn’t want to look away from was something… else. Golden boy was too perfect, whereas this one was more rugged. Chiseled by the gods, specifically chosen to drive her personally insane. The idea that she had ever thought she preferred men with brown hair seemed so unbelievably stupid as she stared at the man with silver hair and a smirk on his face. He had a single dimple on his cheek that seemed to be directed at her.

The returning smile she gave him was almost involuntary.

“I agree with Santa over here. It was definitely interference, and I get to throw again.” Aedion didn’t have anything to say to that but a low string of grumbled curses. It made Aelin’s grin widen while she retrieved her dart.

When she made eye contact with her personal savior, his brow quirked as if to say, Santa? Aelin simply shrugged as she took her stance back up, blocked out the new distraction behind her, and let the dart fly free.

Three bullseyes, her highest score yet. Now she just needed to try for a fourth of a different kind.

~*~

Despite how much Aelin didn’t care about Rowan being a gentleman, he was nothing short of one on their first date. They had just gone out for coffee, returning to his apartment soon after to continue their conversation. Neither of them had wanted to say goodbye even though the pair had sat in the coffee shop for four hours until they began to close down. So they had traded uncomfortable wooden chairs for Rowan’s oversized and extremely comfortable couch. The coffee turned to wine, Rowan at some point deciding to make them both dinner. Before either of them knew it, it was well past midnight and Aelin said she should probably get going.

She would have let him take her to his bedroom and ravage her wholly after the last several hours. It had been an achingly long time since she had found someone that she felt she could tell anything and everything to. Their conversation flowed so easily with no judgment coming from either side. Maybe the bar was on the floor in that aspect, but it had been rare that she found a partner so willing to accept her as she was. The need to pretend wasn’t weighing her down. She felt she could just… be.

Being early November, the air was sharp and cool. It had been two weeks since their first date and autumn leaves twirled toward the ground, crinkling and crunching beneath her boots. Every breath she took was crisp and rejuvenating. She loved this time of year; loved the sights and sounds and the energy that buzzed around her. The holidays were just around the corner, and she couldn’t be more excited for the coming weeks with her friends.

A warm and calloused hand caught hers, long fingers lacing with her own. Aelin looked over at Rowan, who wore a slight smile on his lips while they walked down the street toward his apartment. It had been two weeks since she had first met him at the bar and discovered that he was Bitchthorn in the flesh. His last name was really Whitethorn, but in a tantrum after being defeated, his friend Lorcan changed his name on the board. Aelin wasn’t a huge fan of Lorcan, but the story still made her snort when she thought about it.

“You’re staring,” Rowan said flatly, eyes shifting from the path ahead to meet her gaze. Aelin shrugged, tugging her hand free and leaning into his side as they walked. A content hum rose in her throat, something akin to a purr, when he draped his arm around her shoulder. She couldn’t help but inhale deeply, savoring the pine scent that always lingered on his skin and clothes. There was no way in hell that she would ever tell him, but she switched up her laundry detergent for the first time in years because she wanted to smell like him all the time and not just after she had been tangled up in his sheets.

It was only the third date they had been on, but she was struggling to imagine what her future would look like without him in it. Her stomach lurched, and her fingers twisted his shirt into her fist. There was only one other person she had felt like this with, yet her feelings for Rowan struck her harder and deeper than she’d ever felt with Sam. They weren’t exclusive, hadn’t even discussed what they were to the other yet, and Aelin’s mind was running wild with visions of what the years to come with Rowan would look like. For all she knew, this was just a fling for him.

She tried not to think about it.

It was easy not to when he peeled her jeans from her legs and tossed them into the corner of his room. Their kisses had quickly become frenzied, neither of them taking the time to even remove her shirt. Nothing but pleasure crossed her mind, save for his name as he moved over her, inside of her, pulling sighs and moans from her lips. His skin was marred with the shape of her mouth, red lipstick smudging down his abdomen and staining his white sheets. It certainly didn’t feel like a fling when she was on top of him with his fingers fisting her hair; foreheads pressed together as they tumbled over the edge together and he finished buried deep inside her.

After he cleaned her up, Rowan settled in bed beside her with a steaming mug of hot cocoa for her to sip, and it was bliss. As her head nestled into the soft spot between his neck and shoulder, the cup to her lips, Rowan said, “I want to know everything about you.”

“Like what?”

“Everything,” he repeated, tightening his grip around her body for emphasis.

“That’s a lot of ground to cover,” she joked, a comfortable silence settled over the pair while she enjoyed the drink he’d made her. After a few minutes, she held out the cup containing the last sip of sweet warmth she had saved for him. Despite telling her last week that he wasn’t big on sweets, he finished it and placed the mug on the nightstand beside him. “That goes both ways. I don’t even know what you do for a living.”

“I’m a professor. I’ll start teaching at the university next semester.” Aelin knew he was older than her. Ten years to be exact. But she’d never thought of him as old enough to be her professor.

Doing her best not to tense up, she traced her finger over the edge of the tattoo on his ribcage. The university, he’d said casually. Her eyes closed as she swallowed despite her mouth having gone dry.

“Like UT?” The University of Terrasen, where she was starting in January as a graduate student going for her master’s in art history. Ice cold flames had quickly licked up and down her body, leaving her trying to be casual as she wiped her hands against the sheets.

“One and the same,” he confirmed. She felt him nod with the words, and she made her own head bob up and down. “What do you do for work?”

“I work at an art gallery downtown, but I really want to get a job at the art museum when…” she almost said when she graduated, but she stopped herself. Physically biting her tongue, she paused for a moment before carefully finishing, “ – when the time is right. What is it that you teach?”

She hoped it was anything but art, but her heart plummeted through the floor when he answered, “Wendlyn art and architecture history. The current professor retires at the end of the semester, and I had glowing recommendations from Wendlyn. Helps that I’m a native.”

“You’re about to become the wet dream of so many young students,” she joked, having to peel her dry tongue from the roof of her mouth to answer.

“I’m about to become very hated by so many young students,” he amended, a low chuckle sending shivers down her spine. “I’ve been called, multiple times, a ‘stupid asshole’ for how hard I grade assignments. I tend to be unforgiving.”

“I’m most thankful to my hardest teachers and professors. I still hate them, don’t get me wrong.” They shared a laugh before she continued, “But not having them go easy on me helped me learn that not everything is meant to come easy. You have to work hard to get what you want. If you get it all handed to you, you don’t deserve it half as much as someone that worked their ass off for it. And it’s not as rewarding to have things handed to you. I would know.”

“Know how?”

“I grew up getting things just because my parents are who they are. My dad founded and is CEO of one of the biggest tech companies in the world.” She could see the gears turning in his mind, trying to connect the dots of whose daughter she might be.. Except she had told him that her last name was Ashryver, commonly using it for school and work to avoid people crawling up her ass to get a recommendation from her father. Sometimes they wanted to pitch ideas, other times it was clout they sought after for one reason or another. “Galathynius Tech.”

“You said your last name was–”

“Ashryver. It is, technically. My parents forewent a middle name and shoved both their names together. But I use my mom’s for most things because I’m constantly having to fight off people that want to use me as nothing more than a connection and it got tiring. I was over it by sixth grade.”

“I can’t say I blame you,” Rowan leaned over to press a soft kiss to her shoulder. “I have no interest in technology, so nothing to worry about from me. I wouldn’t have a cell phone if I didn’t absolutely have to.”

“That’s a very aging statement, professor,” she teased. Warmth bloomed in her belly, using the title shooting a thrill through her body. It was probably a little fucked up that she got immediately hot, some deeply hidden fantasy stirring in her mind. The bite Rowan’s mouth formed against her skin told her his mind had gone to the same place.

“Tell me something you’ve never told anyone else.”

“Will you settle for something I just don’t talk about?”

His lips were soft against her shoulder as he said, “Yes.”

It took her some time to be able to find the words. There were only a few people that truly knew what happened, and they only really knew because they’d been told by other people. To most, she was just in an accident. To others, they had more details. Outside of first responders, she hadn’t gone into detail about what happened. But with Rowan… for the first time since it happened, she wanted to.

“I was dating this guy named Sam. We were together for a little over a year and a half and on the weekend before my twenty-second birthday we’d been out drinking. Not Sam, he was the responsible one and he drove the two of us everywhere that I wanted to go. Up until we got into the car to go home it had been the most fun night. When I can separate what happened after with what happened before, it’s one of the best nights I’ve ever had. Just because it was all of my friends, all of us were drunk and so carefree and nothing mattered.”

Aelin paused, leaning forward to pull her shirt up to her shoulders, leaning forward so Rowan could see the scars down her back. There was a heavy, silent tension in the air as he ran his fingers over them so gently she felt her heart might break.

“On the way home, a drunk driver ran a red light and t-boned us on the driver's side. We started flipping, and because I’d been fussy and downright petulant about my seatbelt, I didn’t have it on properly. I was ejected on one of the rolls and slid down the road and earned a serious case of road rash. When I stopped, I hit my head so hard on a curb I couldn’t see straight for days. The only bit of peace I’ve ever been able to find was that they said Sam died on impact. I didn’t know he was dead and I started crawling toward the car, screaming for him. Glass and gravel was digging in my skin, I had cuts up and down my arms and legs and a huge gash on the side of my head. I don’t remember feeling any pain, though. I just remember crawling for him until I couldn’t move anymore. And then I woke up in the hospital.”

She shrugged at the end of her story, fingers picking at a loose piece of string on the blanket that covered her legs. Rowan’s fingers were heartbreakingly gentle against her back as he traced her scars, noting everywhere that gravel and glass had been embedded in her skin. With a shaky breath she added, “The survivor’s guilt ate me alive. Some days it still does.”

“When I was twenty-five, I lived with my girlfriend, Lyria,” Rowan said quietly, fingers still grazing her skin. “We used to go for runs every morning, but I’d been out late with everyone and didn’t want to go when she woke me up. So she went alone, which she’d done before so I wasn’t too worried about it. But the sun was barely out, and someone hit her with their fucking truck and left her there to bleed out on the side of the road. When they caught him, it was an older guy that swore up and down he didn’t see her. That he ran because he was just scared and confused.”

Aelin looked at him over her shoulder, extending her hand to take his. Rowan exhaled heavily, pulling her so she was snug in his arms with her head tucked beneath his chin as he quietly said, “She was pregnant. She hadn’t told me yet, but she was. I found out at the hospital.”

“So you understand,” she whispered against his chest, her lips nearly tracing the words against his skin. There would be no apologies to be mistaken for pity. They were just two souls laid bare for the other, confessing worst nightmares that had been made real. Two people that had suffered greatly but survived it and had managed to find each other.

“And so do you.”

Someone that could understand her ins and outs, that could understand her fears and worries. Maybe not exactly the same, but when people didn’t experience something the way the two of them had, there was no way to relate to it. Survivor’s guilt and the trauma of losing someone you loved was a difficult thing to match no matter how hard someone might try.

Rowan, though… he could understand the way she felt. He could understand the anxiety and fear that crept into her bones in the middle of the night, whispering awful things in her ear to keep her awake. And this revelation made the earlier admission that he would be her professor, that their relationship now had an expiration date on it even harder to bear.

But instead of admitting the truth then, she curled around his body and listened to the steady beat of his heart. She breathed in sync with him in long, slow intervals, hoping and praying to any god that would listen that maybe it wouldn’t have to crash and burn quite so soon.

~*~

Despite the anxious nerves that bubbled up in her body like a fresh glass of champagne, Aelin grinned widely while they drove up the winding mountainside. The windows of the rented SUV were rolled down despite the chill in the air, Aelin’s golden hair whipping around wildly while she wove her hand in and out of the wind. The fingers of her left hand were laced with Rowan’s on the center console. That little bit of contact alone seemed to warm her entire body.

Bright, unbridled laughter escaped her lips as Rowan began singing along to the song on the radio in a dramatic fashion. It was one from the eighties that she knew all the words to but couldn’t remember the title of to save her life, and soon their voices were twined together just like their fingers.

It was beautiful up here. Aelin had always loved the mountains, loved the sights and smells of pine and cool air. The trees that weren’t green year-round were losing their leaves. The forest floor was red and gold, bare branches reaching for the sky high above her head. Beautiful was the only word for it; she thought to herself as the song changed to something more modern.

Pulling her hand back into the car, she took to adjusting the green scarf around her neck. The closer they got to the little mountain town Rowan’s family lived in, the cooler it became. It took him no time to roll up the windows and adjust the heat as she pulled her scarf up to hide her icy, pink nose and cheeks. Despite getting colder, her heart and soul had never been warmer.

“We’re almost there,” he promised, pulling around the bend and driving into the little town where Aelin was starting to see the beginnings down the road.

“No complaints here.”

“You’re just nervous.” Teasing laughter pulled at the words, his hand sliding from hers down to her knee to squeeze. She swatted it away, looking at him like he’d said the most offensive thing she’d ever heard.

“I don’t get nervous!” She cried, the lie so blatant and obvious that they both started laughing.

“You don’t lie either, I suppose.” Rowan’s eyes slid from the road over her face, a silver brow raised in question.

“Not once in my li– Rowan!” Her hands went to brace the dash as he slammed on the brakes, very nearly running the red light in the center of downtown. The man beside her was on the receiving end of glares from people out and about that Saturday afternoon, a few horns honking behind him as they, too, came quickly to a halt to avoid ramming into him.

“I’m so sorry,” Rowan swore, reaching over to brush a piece of her hair that had caught on her lip in the fiasco. Instead of answering, Aelin started laughing again. He soon joined in with her, the two fighting off tears as the light changed to green, and he started back down the street. “Don’t do or say anything else cute. You nearly caused a car accident and got me a ticket.”

“Sure, sure. It’s my fault that you can’t keep your eyes off me for more than two minutes at a time.”

“Entirely. If you looked like a troll, I wouldn’t have such a hard time.”

“And here I thought you liked me for my personality,” she scoffed. Rowan lifted her hand to his lips and placed a kiss on her fingers, eyes staying glued to the street.

“You are the single person put on this earth to drive me absolutely insane. The complete package wrapped with such a pretty bow.” Aelin’s cheeks warmed at his words, her smile softening as she leaned over to kiss his cheek despite how hard her seatbelt tried to keep her in her seat.

It wasn’t long before they pulled into the driveway of a modest home nestled on a street a few blocks from downtown. After taking off her seatbelt, Aelin pulled down the mirror to fix her windswept hair, examining her face for the first time since leaving the airport bathroom. She went as far as to dig a small hairbrush out of her bag and detangle the golden strands, her nerves becoming more like a bottle of champagne ready to explode than a small, fizzy glass.

“You look perfect,” Rowan told her, turning her face toward his with his fingertips so he could lean over and give her a sweet kiss. “They are going to love you.”

“Easy for you to say,” she grumbled, loosening her scarf a bit as she reached for the door handle.

“Aelin. You have nothing to worry about. Nevermind that I haven’t brought anyone home to meet my mother since I was in college. You already have a high score for that alone.” Aelin couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled out of her or how his words seemed to ease the pressure in her chest. The statement even managed to wipe away any taste of jealousy of the other women Rowan had ever been with.

Not that it bothered her– she was more worried about not having the same life and relationship experience that he did rather than the women he’d dated or slept with. Rowan was ten years her senior, thirty-four to her twenty-four. He didn’t quite know her exact age yet, either. Not that she was hiding it from him. He knew she was in her twenties, but she had skated around it the first few weeks of them hanging out, and it simply hadn’t come back up in the time since.

Aelin inhaled deeply as she hopped out of the car, admiring the home as she shut the door behind her. Rowan pulled their duffel bags from the trunk, slinging them over one shoulder so he could offer her a hand to take. She did, gladly, following him up the steps and into the foyer of the house as he called out that they were home.

Home. It was exactly what this place felt like. Not home the same way her parent’s house was, but home in that it could be nothing else. It smelled like cinnamon, spice, and the fire that roared in the fireplace. Visions of Rowan young and playing video games on the dark green couch in the living room to their right took hold of Aelin’s mind. She could immediately see him crowding the kitchen island with his friends after a big sports game, the loud chatter of teenage boys filling the space.

It had such a warm and welcoming air to it that it was easy to imagine holidays spent at the dining room table or Rowan and his parents sitting around a Yulemas tree exchanging gifts. As she took a deep breath, she could smell the makings of dinner from the kitchen just as a woman about Aelin’s height rounded a corner with an apron tied around her lean frame.

“Oh, my goodness,” she said, bypassing her son entirely and coming to take both of Aelin’s hands in hers. Behind his mom, Rowan’s eyes softened while he winked at his new girlfriend. “Rowan, she is just beautiful. You didn’t do her justice.”

“I don’t think I could if I tried.” There was a gleam in his eye as he put their bags on the living room floor, with Aelin shaking her head like he was ridiculous. Because he was.

“Hi, Mrs. Whitethorn. It’s lovely to finally meet you,” Aelin said, a grin on her lips. She would be lying to everyone if she said she hadn’t rehearsed that line an embarrassing amount of times in her head.

“You will call me Ivy,” his mom said, dropping her hands to pull her into a warm embrace. Aelin returned the hug, thinking of how much it reminded her of the ones her own mother gave. “Your father is in the garage; go drag him inside. I have him pulling down the Yulemas decorations.”

“It isn’t even thanksgiving yet,” Rowan reminded her, shaking his head as she patted him on the cheek. Her hands dropped to her hips at the slight incredulity in his tone.

“Now, when has that ever stopped me?”

“It hasn’t,” he laughed, bending to press a kiss to her tanned skin. Rowan shrugged off his coat and hung it on a hook by the door before helping Aelin out of hers. She unwound the scarf from her neck and passed that off to him as well, watching as he situated them beside his before he kissed her forehead and vanished deeper into the house.

“Come, come. I’m working on dinner, but we’ll have some time to catch up without the men for a few minutes, at least. How was your flight?”

“Pretty good, actually. My mom is from Varese, and we go there most summers, so it’s not a trip I’m unfamiliar with.” They weren’t in Varese, about an hour’s drive south in a small mountain town called Mistward that Aelin had heard of but never been to. So far, she was in love with it, much like her mother had promised when she first told her of the trip to meet his family.

It was probably a little too soon for the meeting, but Rowan wasn’t going to go home again until Yulemas, and that wasn’t a holiday Aelin was ready to spend away from her family just yet. Rowan had a few things he wanted for his new apartment from his parent's house. The trip had quickly become about her meeting his family, despite only having been seeing each other for a month at most.

“You’re sure it’s not too soon for you to make a six-hour flight to meet your boyfriend’s parents?” He’d asked her one evening while they laid in a tangle of limbs on her couch.

“Oh, is that what you are? My boyfriend?” Aelin had tried to tease but was so thrilled about finally having a conversation about their relationship's status that they soon became a heap of tangled limbs and kisses.

Aelin lingered in the hall beside the kitchen while Rowan’s mother began asking her questions about her mother and the summers they spent in Wendlyn. Aelin’s replies came half distracted, her eyes caught on photos of Rowan’s life hanging on the walls. There were group photos of Rowan on his childhood and teenage sports teams, a photo of him in full football pads with his arms around the shoulders and waist of a boy and a girl that had matching silver hair, same as him. The one that almost elicited a giggle out of her was one of him as a boy with round, wire-framed glasses on his face and a wide, toothless grin to match.

“Darling, wasn’t he?” His mom asked, joining Aelin in the hall. “There’s plenty more where that came from, too.”

“I need to see all of those.”

“I’ll pull out the photo albums in the morning,” Ivy said with a wink, the two women heading back toward the kitchen. Aelin was hovering by the barstools by the island as the door to what she could only assume to be the garage opened, and Rowan walked back in. He was tailed by the vision of how Aelin imagined he would look in thirty years' time. An older, nearly as handsome man with the same silver hair.

“You must be Aelin,” his father said, approaching her. He was every bit as tall as his son, and she had to tilt her head back to look him in the eye. Aelin started to hold her hand out for him to shake when he laughed warmly and pulled her in for a hug. The severity of his face had made her think that perhaps he was more formal, but no. Matthias Whitethorn seemed every bit as soft and loving as his wife.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Rowan’s been going on and on about you the last month.” Ivy gushed, reaching out to squeeze her hands. Aelin’s heart swelled at how sweet the gesture was.

“Has he, now?” She looked to her boyfriend, who gently guided her to sit on a stool while he made his way to the coffee pot to make them both a cup. Settled with one leg crossed over the other, she propped her chin in her hand and gave his parents her full attention. The beginning of the conversation with his dad started out much like with his mom– he asked if the flight had been alright for her and took interest when she mentioned her mother being from Wendlyn as well. His parents volleyed questions back and forth, Aelin answering them all as Rowan placed a mug in front of her. Full of cream and sugar, just how she liked it. It earned him a smile, and a mouthed thank you between answers.

Dinner went off without a hitch, Ivy and Matthias sharing stories of Rowan as a child that had his cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment. Aelin hadn’t laughed so much in a long time, learning about the silly things he’d said and done from the time he was in diapers. His father proudly showed her photos from his high school and college graduations, which turned the question onto her own education. Aelin licked her lips anxiously as she sat back in her seat, finding Rowan’s hand beneath the table.

“I graduated high school in Orynth, and I’ve never wanted to leave Terrasen for longer than a single adventure would take. So I went to the University of Terrasen in Orynth. Once I graduated with my bachelor’s in art history, I took a little over a year off to travel and see art all over the world. My parents have a lot of connections, so I met with some of the greatest living art historians in the world. And then I went back for my master’s.”

It wasn’t a total lie. Not really. She did return to Orynth for her master’s– she just hadn’t started yet. She would begin in January, the same semester Rowan was due to begin teaching. A teensy fact that Rowan didn’t quite know yet.

“Just like our Rowan. No wonder you’ve hit it off so well.” Ivy paused with a smile that Aelin had to force back onto her lips, “What do you do with those fancy degrees of yours?” His mother asked, finishing her last bite of dessert. Aelin paused to sip her water, trying to gather her answer in her head before she said it out loud.

“Right now, I work at an art gallery, but I want to work in museums. I’ll have to start at the bottom of the food chain, but I’m excited to start that part of my career. I’ll start sending out applications soon.” Aelin was starting to feel uncomfortable with how easy she was at giving half-truths and saving the whole of it for herself. She would begin sending out applications– but for internships until she finished up her degree in two years.

That response earned her a whole slew of new questions about art, what she loved about it, why she felt it was necessary. His parents really took the time to get to know her, whereas her last boyfriend’s family couldn’t have cared less about anything she did. To be fair, Chaol really only liked her as a trophy. As soon as the honeymoon phase died down and she started pushing back, he bailed. She still thanked the gods for that– she was so much better for it.

Still, having Rowan’s mom and dad’s undivided attention was new for her, and it was nice to say the least. They weren’t measuring her up to someone else, they didn’t criticize her career path no matter how rocky it could start out. The pair took the time to really understand where she was coming from and listened while she rambled through their last glasses of wine and while they cleaned the kitchen. Matthias would point out when she had thoughts that lined up with something Rowan had told him years ago, and Ivy loved how passionate she was about conserving art for future generations to enjoy. It was strange, how much she felt like she belonged here despite having met them mere hours ago.

She had to push that sinking feeling into a locked room deep inside her chest.

Soon after cleaning up for dinner, Aelin, Rowan, and his father were seated around the living room watching television when his mother dropped a stack of books on the coffee table. Ivy and Aelin shared a conspiratorial grin at the same time her boyfriend let out a low, displeased groan. The two women laughed as Aelin lowered herself to the floor, reaching for the book on top. It was made of stained, worn ivory fabric with edges covered in frilly lace. Aelin remembered Aedion’s baby book looking similar to this; her own had been pale pink but felt more like an actual book.

She flipped to the first page and saw Rowan’s full name– Rowan Matthias Whitethorn– his date of birth, his weight in pounds and ounces, and finally, his length in inches. Her fingers traced over the handwritten letters, pausing on the inked imprint of his bare baby feet near the bottom. The smile that appeared on her face was involuntary, and she spared him a look over his shoulder. The always stoic man she was quickly falling for had a flush from his neck up to the very tips of his ears. Choking back the laugh she desperately wanted to let loose, she reached behind and squeezed his knee.

“I am so excited about this.” Her voice was little more than a whisper and directed at Ivy, yet Rowan heard anyway, reaching out to tug on the ends of her hair. It was enough to get the laughter rushing out of her. Anything to make this man squirm was an excellent use of time in her eyes.

She wasn’t sure just how long they sat around the coffee table, Aelin flipping through every single page of the books while he and his parents offered stories and anecdotes of his life. There was even a high school yearbook that, according to Rowan, was the most mortifying of it all. He had been crowned prom king his senior year, but not because of popularity. His group of friends had badgered nearly everyone in the school into voting for him simply because they knew he would hate it. Rowan wasn’t big on attention; he didn’t even really celebrate his birthday for that very reason. In the photos of him dancing with the prom queen, his girlfriend at the time, the poor buzzard looked absolutely miserable.

Despite his embarrassment, Aelin loved hearing about his early life. Ivy made her laugh so hard that water nearly came out of her nose when she went on and on about just how hopeless he was with girls growing up. Something that he, apparently, hadn’t grown out of until he was in his third year of college. There were so many stories about failed dates, about his inability to express his emotions, about the poems he’d tried to write for pretty girls in middle school. He was no good at any of it, Rowan snatching an example from his mother’s hands before Aelin had the chance to read it. He’d ripped it up so quickly that tears of laughter had streamed down her face at the dramatics. It must have been truly terrible, then.

She was sitting with her back against the couch, head turned to look at Rowan and leaning against his legs for extra warmth when he began telling one of her favorite stories of the night. While he spun the tale, he dropped a blanket around her shoulders that she was quick to bundle her hands in while she listened eagerly.

“We hopped the fence, both of us running for the other side of the practice field that we could jump another fence to and make it out onto the street and off of school property,” Rowan was saying, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. “Later, we discovered that Vaughan had jumped into a dumpster to wait it out. Lorcan and Connall escaped because the cop chasing them was more out of shape. But there were, like, ten of them. We didn’t know where they were at any given moment. And by the time Fen and I started across the field, two of them were running at us from where we were headed. There was no time to stop or change course because there was nowhere to go.”

“So what did you do?”

“Fen was carrying the bag, right? Had it thrown over his shoulder. It was just a plain duffel bag, stuffed to the brim with mostly toilet paper and silly string. We weren’t trying to do anything totally illegal. But we did change the locks to all the gates–”

“Thanks to the keys he stole from me,” Matthias grumbled, but there was amusement in his eyes. Aelin doubted it had been all that funny when it happened, but now, so many years later, it seemed they could laugh about it.

“Right,” Rowan confirmed, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “So we’re running across the field, two cops are coming at us from the other side. We knew we were screwed, so I grabbed Fen’s arm, we both stopped, and I immediately raised my hands in the air. They had their guns drawn because we were trespassing and running from the police. We had a bag that they didn’t know the contents of. The five of us were all well over six feet and causing trouble. So my hands are in the air, Fen is holding onto this bag like he’s scared of them taking it, which is fucking hilarious considering there was nothing too damning in it.

“The cops start yelling what’s in the bag! Just over and over. Fenrys is shaking, fumbling to unzip the bag, which was just stupid, so I yanked it off his shoulder, threw it on the ground and as one of the cops reached down to unzip it, Fen just cries out It’s just toilet paper, sir! The man had tears in his eyes. I get that in the moment, it was scary, but none of the rest of us reacted the way he did. Just crumbled immediately under pressure.”

At that, Aelin’s laughter began anew. She remembered meeting Fenrys that first night she’d met Rowan. The impossibly beautiful man with the first face and a dark twin to match. The idea of someone with so much confidence crumbling under pressure had her cackling wildly.

“The two of us got arrested for trespassing, dad bailed us out, and to this day, we tease him relentlessly for it. As soon as we were in the jail cell, I turned and started to say something about it, and he told me to shut up. Obviously, I didn’t. And then I told everyone when we got together a few days later.”

Of all the stories she’d heard today, it had made her laugh the hardest. It was hard to reconcile the Fenrys she’d met with the Fenrys in the story, and she couldn’t wait to bring it up to him the next time she saw him.

Her favorite story, though, had been one his mother told her about Rowan finding a young, injured hawk when he was eight. Ivy had been baking in the kitchen when Rowan stumbled in, shirtless but holding the bundle to his chest. When she asked what he had, he showed her and begged that they take it somewhere that it could get healed and later released into the wild. A stoic hardass this man may be, but he’d always had a tender side. Aelin had seen it over and over, but it was sweet to know it had always been there.

They didn’t realize how late it was until Ivy and Matthias decided to head off to bed, which turned out to be sometime after two in the morning. It was then that Rowan gathered their bags where they still sat by the front door and led her to his childhood bedroom.

Because of how late they had arrived and dinner had been so close to finished, Aelin had little more than a peek into the bedroom he’d spent his nights as a child. She took a moment to look at all the trophies and team photos that lined floating shelves on the walls while Rowan dug through his bag for something to sleep in. Aelin’s polished fingers ran down the worn spines of books he had clearly loved, some of the covers ripped or missing corners from the wear and tear.

It wasn’t the room of a boy but a growing teenager. The bed was a queen to adjust to his rapid growth, the sheets, and duvet a plain dark green. A few textbooks were stacked on a desk in the corner, ones that seemed to be from his college days. Apparently, that was some of what he’d come back for. He wanted to use the notes he’d taken to teach his students.

Rowan was watching her, his travel clothes long gone. Instead, he was in a pair of sweatpants with no shirt, sitting on the edge of his bed and watching Aelin embrace his room. When she’d gotten her fill, she walked over to him, standing between his legs and draping her arms over his shoulders.

“I love it here,” she said quietly, twisting her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Yeah?” Aelin hummed in response, kissing him softly. “It’s not much, but it’s home.”

“It’s perfect. It feels like a home. The way it looks, the smells, the way it’s decorated. That your bedroom is still the same it was when you graduated highschool.” Rowan smiled softly at her, tucking her hair behind her ear and pulling her in for a kiss. One that Aelin knew, had his parents not been down the hall, would have quickly devolved into something more. Instead, she pulled away and shook her head as if to clear it, “My parent’s house is home, don’t get me wrong. But it’s never felt this cozy and lived in. And your parents are…” Aelin took a deep breath, wanting to say everything that filled her mind. Ultimately she decided against it, feeling a knot forming in her throat at everything she couldn’t bring herself to say. To divert her emotions, she kissed him quickly and disappeared into the bathroom to ready herself for bed.

Something about that house, Ivy, and Matthias had Aelin sad to leave a few days later. For the first time after meeting a boyfriend’s parents, she found herself eager to return.

But she knew she probably wouldn’t.

~*~

The mental hourglass that Aelin had of their relationship was running out. While she was the only one that knew it and she did her best to ignore it, the idea plagued her waking thoughts and jerked her out of fitful nightmares. It didn’t help that their relationship seemed to just continue to heat up, despite telling herself that she needed to be pulling away.

It was nearly Yulemas now and just under a month until she would return to UT to start her master's degree at the same time that Rowan would begin teaching a course she was due to take in the same semester.

Much to her horror, when she had gone online to register for classes, Rowan’s was the last of the history requirement courses available. Her first pick was a course on art and architecture history in the southern continent, but it was already full by the time she submitted everything to her admissions advisor. Because of the strict outline that mandated she take three art history classes per semester, she had quite literally no other choice but to select Rowan’s class as her third and final for the spring.

The sword of Damocles hung over her head every time she saw him, swaying back and forth each time his hands explored every inch of her skin. Aelin was constantly cursing herself, sometimes finding the words on the tip of her tongue but entirely unable to get them out of her mouth. She knew she had to tell him, knew it was getting down to the wire of when they could have a conversation about it that wouldn’t end in a blowout.

Yet his sweet disposition when they were together made her almost forget. When they hopped into one of their cars to go for hikes up in the Staghorns, or when they lay on his couch watching movies, it didn’t feel like their relationship was as cursed for a fatal end as she thought it was. When they stood around throwing darts and Fenrys lifted her off her feet to celebrate yet another win on her part, it felt like everything was fine. Those moments made it so easy to fold up the whole truth with her half truths like they were tiny pieces of confetti. Aelin locked it all inside her heart, praying it wouldn’t pop off like a firework.

Still, as he tossed her the keys over the hood of the car, her cloudy mind had her missing the catch. They landed with a clatter on the ground, her favorite keychain winking in the afternoon sun. Rowan chuckled, teasing remarks that didn’t quite make it through her ears falling from his tongue. Her laugh was forced as she got into the driver’s seat, turned the key, and gave life to her car. In the seat beside her, Rowan gave her a long look as though he knew something was wrong, but she found a smile that she punctuated with a loud, smacking kiss and that seemed to ease his worries.

Today they were going out to do some Yulemas shopping for their friends and family. It was an easy decision to decide to go together. Aelin already had a gift for Rowan hidden in the top of her closet; she just had a few more names to tick off her list. She wanted his help selecting a present for Ivy and Matthias, and since he would be meeting her family at New Years, he required her assistance as well.

Thinking about New Years was already psyching her out. It had been enough to meet his family while she had continued to delude herself that maybe they could make this whole thing work, but him meeting hers when it was bound to go up in flames once she revealed her lies seemed cruel. It was cruel to her family, to Rowan, to herself. It would only cause unnecessary hurt when everyone was attached and getting along. Her heart ached for how his parents would react. The thought of never seeing Ivy Whitethorn again made her eyes burn.

Aelin wasn’t stupid. This entire thing was her fault and hers alone. If she had just confessed as soon as Rowan mentioned he would be a professor, one that would likely teach her, maybe this would pan out okay. But now, several months deep into their relationship, falling more and more in love with him by the second… it all just felt doomed.

Despite the hurricane of hurt that was headed directly for her, she would savor these last few weeks. No matter how hard she had to keep choking down her lies or how much it would hurt when it all crumpled like a piece of paper in a garbage bin, she wanted to soak up the last bit of happiness while she still could.

The desire to have Rowan smiling at her like she was the only important thing in the world outweighed her guilty conscience that day which was how they ended up walking with laced fingers through the over-crowded shopping mall. Strangers who were also scrounging for last-minute gifts bumped into them restlessly, sending Aelin rocking into Rowan’s side. He was quick to steady her, his hands warm where they grazed the skin of her lower back beneath her shirt. It earned him a grateful smile as they braved the sea of teenagers and adults.

Despite how hectic it was, Aelin loved this time of year. She loved the sights and smells, the general cheer that seemed to hang in the air. The massive Yulemas tree in the center of the open ice rink downtown always brought her joy. She had dragged Rowan down to the parade and ceremonious lighting, citing that he needed to experience Orynth at Yulemas time in full swing.

Rowan didn’t love the crowds. More than once, he grabbed her hand and pulled her along behind him to weave in and out of people. When they stopped at the jewelry counter, he cursed them both for waiting so long to do their shopping.

“This is the best time!” She cried, her grip tightening on his forearm as she struggled to keep up with him.

“This is the worst time,” Rowan argued, giving her a pointed look when a man on a mission nearly body slammed her into the jewelry counter and Rowan had to, once again, keep her from toppling over onto the floor. Okay, sure, maybe it did have its downsides, but–

“Think about all the happiness that will come from these gifts! Imagine the children’s faces when they wake up in just a few mornings and get to open all their presents. And all the yummy desserts these people will be sharing with their families, all the memories that are being made right now.”

“You really have a flair for the dramatics,” he said, eyes skimming the various pieces of jewelry through the glass. Aelin grinned and mocked a bow. She was rewarded with a soft laugh and a kiss on her temple.

She was dramatic, Aelin would be the first to admit. Maybe that was why she was waiting so long to shatter both of their hearts.

~*~

For both of them, Yulemas went without a hitch. Both of them had much needed family time, and Rowan arrived at her parents in the late afternoon. The big party wasn’t until the next night on New Year’s eve, but tonight family and friends would still find their way to the Ashryver-Galathynius home to kick things off with a lavish dinner that a private chef had been slaving over all day.

Aelin paraded him all over the house, introducing him to everyone in a quick manner. After showing off the bedrooms, living rooms, and the theater room in the basement, she rounded off the tour by pulling him out onto the deck to show him the view. Maybe she also wanted to hint at some private jacuzzi time, but as soon as they stepped foot outside she knew he would love it out here as much as she did.

The house was nestled in the mountain side and it was picturesque back here. Especially once the sun set, or when you wanted to lay out and look at the stars. Both were things Aelin planned to do with him over the weekend, before having to go back to the harsh reality that was to become her life. It was a place that Aelin commonly found herself in growing up when life became too overwhelming or she just needed some peace and quiet. There were notches hidden along the wooden railing to show how many books she’d finished out here under the stars when she was supposed to be sleeping.

“I want to kiss you at midnight right here,” he told her, leaning down to give her a preview of what she would get on the next night. Maybe she should start a new tally on the posts: how many kisses she could coax out of Rowan Whitethorn when they were supposed to be asleep.

With her parents bustling around preparing for dinner, they didn’t have much time to stop and talk to Rowan just yet. So Aelin led him back up to her bedroom, putting his bag on the chaise lounge at the foot of her bed before hopping onto the plush bedding while she watched him peruse her room the same way she had his.

“This house is incredible,” he mused, pulling back her curtains to peer out at the scenery that surrounded them.

“It’s definitely… It's home. It doesn’t always feel like it, but it’s home.” It was hard to explain why, exactly, she sometimes felt so disconnected to the place she grew up. Maybe it was because she’d grown up with parents that were so busy building an empire that they weren’t always around. Maybe it was because she spent a lot of time at friend’s houses when her mom and dad had to leave for week-long business trips that she wasn’t allowed to go on. Maybe now the feeling of Rowan’s childhood home dwarfed hers with how inviting and warm it had been. But her parent’s estate still overflowed with memories and she loved it for that.

“My mom would love the kitchen.”

“She’s more than welcome to come make something in it. Gods know my mother seldom has,” she snorted, falling onto her back as he sat down beside her. Rowan chuckled, running his hand down her thigh to her knee and giving it a gentle squeeze. “There’s a really good chance that my ex boyfriend is going to be here tonight, by the way. If it were up to me, he wouldn’t be, but I never have a say in any of this.”

“Chaol?” The thing about Rowan was that he actually listened to her. When she told him about Chaol Westfall, he had spent the entirety of the conversation rolling his eyes. He even forced a gag when Aelin said that he wanted her to be a trophy on his arm and nothing more. When he said that didn’t sound like Aelin at all, she had smiled.

“Yep. His dad works with mine, and he’s a piece of work. His mother is sweet enough, I don’t know how they ended up together. It’s no wonder Chaol turned out the way he did. Annie did her best but his dad is just…” Aelin trailed off, unable to find a word fitting for the frigid man she’d grown up around. Rowan hummed in response, seeming to understand as he leaned back on his elbows to look down at her.

“And your parents are fine with the way he treated you?”

“They didn’t really know in full. My mom was ecstatic when we started dating because I’ve known him and his family for most of my life. His best friend Dorian is also one of my best friends. It made sense until I stopped being what he wanted me to be. He was the first, and only, guy that I’d dated since everything happened with Sam. I think Chaol thought I’d become more submissive and small since the accident, and my parents were just happy I was dating someone again. Plus, they not only have personal ties to his family, but business ones as well. I wasn’t going to risk my father doing something stupid for the sake of my dignity, or whatever.” Aelin waved her hand dismissively, rolling onto her side to look at Rowan.

“If things go sideways, I’ll be sure to defend your honor.” Amusement shone in Rowan’s eyes and Aelin knew he would, given the chance. But she doubted anything would happen to require it, so she simply leaned over and kissed him once, twice, three times.

Three little words floated to the forefront of her mind that she had to swallow down. Aelin hadn’t said I love you to anyone since Sam. Already, though, the words wanted to bubble out of her mouth and into his. Reminding herself it was too early, she occupied her lips with his until a knock disrupted the both of them.

“Aelin, my love?”

“You can open the door, Mom,” she laughed, the two of them sitting up as the door swung open to reveal Evalin Ashryver Galathynius herself.

“Rowan, I am so sorry we’ve been so neglectful. I promise breakfast will be entirely about getting to know you.”

“It’s really no problem at all, Mrs. Galathynius. I’d be more than happy to help tonight if you need it,” he replied respectfully, offering a kind smile that made Aelin want to kiss his face all over again.

“Nonsense. Guests will be arriving soon for dinner, so the two of you may want to get changed.” Evalin’s gaze shifted to Aelin, “Have you decided on what to wear tonight?”

In response, Aelin looked over at her closet and squinted at the contents that she could see, one eye nearly closed as she tried to zero in on something. “I’m wearing that new gold dress I sent you pictures of tomorrow. But tonight… maybe something black?”

“You have that black and gold one.” A woman on a mission, Evalin entered Aelin’s closet and began combing through the rack that held her fanciest dresses. When she found what she was looking for, she held it up for Aelin to see, who was now leaning against the closet door. Rowan was still seated on the bed, responding to a text.

“I haven’t worn that one yet.”

“I think it’s perfect, wouldn’t you agree?” Evalin nodded her head toward Rowan and winked, mouthing ‘It’s low,’ to Aelin in reference to the partially open back of the dress that dipped all the way to the bottom of her spine.

“I think you’re right, mama. I think you are absolutely right.”

~*~

Aelin did her makeup while Rowan showered and got dressed. He was devastatingly handsome in a simple black suit and tie. There was another option, one that was a dark green velvet suit that would bring out the stunning shade of his eyes. That one, Aelin decided, would match her perfectly tomorrow and was entirely too hot for him to wear for a stuffy dinner. She’d helped him adjust the tie around his neck and promised to be downstairs soon.

Aelin’s little list of secrets grew as she hid her dress from his prying eyes. It was one that had been sitting in the back of her closet for years, reserved for some future gala where she could get away with the risque back. Her mother pulling it out for this party, for Rowan to see, seemed to be perfect.

After he disappeared down the hall and she shut the door behind him, she sat back down to trace her full lips with a dark red lipliner, filling in the center with her favorite red lipstick. Drama seemed the way to go, which was why she had pulled her hair into a simple updo with two bat-wing combs holding it all together like a crown. The beachy curls she’d done before gave it an intentionally messy look, one that would keep her long hair off her back to really show off the beaded, golden dragon that seemed to be crawling up toward the nape of her neck.

By the time she had zipped herself into her dress, she was itching with anticipation to get downstairs and let Rowan see her in all her glory. Some would say she was cocky, but it was simple confidence that coursed through her. When she looked in the mirror for the final time, she saw a queen smiling back at her. A queen that would bring a man to his knees.

Stepping into a pair of black patent heels, she gathered the train of her dress and made her way down the stairs. People she both did and didn’t know were already mingling in the sitting room the steps led into, several pairs of eyes following her as she made her descent into the formal chaos. It didn’t take her long to spot Rowan on the other side of the room, who was completely slack-jawed at what she’d chosen. Aelin had to bite her lip to keep from grinning too hard as he sat down his flute of champagne on the fireplace mantel and made his way to her. When she stepped off the bottom step, she turned so he could see the breathtaking golden design, along with her scarred back on display

“You…” his head shook as though he needed to clear his thoughts, or like it might help him find the word he was looking for.

“Cat got your tongue?” she winked, slipping her hand into the crook of his elbow when he offered her his arm.

“You are magnificent.” The reverence in his voice had her stepping a little closer to him to lean up and kiss him, laughing when she pulled away and using the pad of her thumb to wipe the dark red from his lips.

“I know.”

“Of course you do.” Rowan’s eyes rolled, but there was still so much emotion flickering in them that had nothing to do with annoyance. It was heat and adoration in his gaze, the former sending warmth straight to her lower belly. He looked at her like he was starving and she was his favorite meal. When he looked at her like that, their future didn’t seem quite so bleak.

Aelin had almost forgotten they were in the center of a party. Unfortunately, no matter how badly she wanted to pull Rowan into the study and let him devour her, she had to greet the guests. The women showered her with compliments on her look, touching the tips of the bat wings with their fingers. Aelin knew that her mother would get a boat load of compliments about what a beautiful young woman she’d grown into. It almost made her want to snort.

“Aelin Galathynius, as I live and breathe,” a voice drawled, and Aelin’s eyes dashed to the entry hall where one of her favorite people in the entire world leaned against a door frame, hands in his pockets.

She quickly dropped Rowan’s hand and bolted for him, running as fast as her heels and the train of her dress would allow. As soon as she was close enough she launched herself at him, arms going around his neck. To Dorian’s credit, he caught her and led them into an easy spin. Both of them laughed as he righted her on her feet. Aelin had expected Rowan to follow, but he hadn’t. He was standing by the stairs watching with a slight grin on his lips. She waved him over, grabbing his hand once he was close enough.

“Dorian, this is my boyfriend, Rowan. Rowan, Dorian Havillard.”

“Childhood best friend, extremely bi-sexual–”

“Dorian!” Aelin smacked his shoulder, earning a low chuckle. Her eyes narrowed and she pointed her finger directly in his face, nearly poking his nose. “He’s spoken for.”

“I can tell. His eyes haven’t left you since you made your grand entrance.” Dorian held his hand out, and the two shared a solid shake.

“I’m sure I’m not the only one,” Rowan added, eyes glancing around. Aelin’s did too, snickering over the few pairs of eyes that were still admiring the dress her mother had chosen for the evening. It was probably a bit much, but the Galathynius’ were kind of known for always doing the absolute most.

“Rightly so. You look beautiful, my darling girl,” Evalin said as she approached, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s cheek. “I can’t believe Rowan is still standing.”

“I thought my legs were going to give out there for a second.” Aelin wrinkled her nose at him, sure that he was full of it. After a wink, he said, “Knocked the breath clean out of my lungs and stole the words right out of my mouth.”

“Oh, now you’re just sucking up to my mom,” she teased, sliding her arm around his waist. Rowan’s came to rest on her lower back, his thumb brushing small circles over her exposed skin. It made her all the more desperate to drag him away, to loosen his tie and roll up his sleeves while he edged her towards ecstasy. Again, she found her lip tucking beneath her teeth as she looked back at her mother, who gave her a knowing look.

“Well, it’s working,” Evalin said, patting Rowan’s shoulder before disappearing through the crowd to greet her friends.

Dorian, Aelin, and Rowan fell into easy conversation. Their group expanded as more of their friends and the ‘young crowd’ arrived. Aelin was excited that, despite the age difference, he was quick to get along with everyone. Nehemiah had nudged her at one point, eyebrows raised nearly to her hairline. Elide and Manon had separately snuck her high fives that she was certain Rowan had caught onto.

When Chaol showed up, she had introduced them before going to grab herself another drink. Just as she was walking back toward her friends, she overheard Rowan say, “Nice to meet you, Kyle,” and she’d laughed so hard that champagne had come out of her nose. The burning that followed had been entirely worth it.

By the time Lysandra arrived with Aedion, Aelin had an easy buzz and a grumbling stomach. The hors d'oeuvres weren’t cutting it anymore. She was thrilled when dinner was ready to be served and they all scrambled for their chairs.

By the end of the night, Aelin was tipsy and sad to see her friends leave despite knowing they would be back in less than twenty four hours for the New Years Eve bash. She gave them all lingering hugs, even her cousin and her very best friend who would be sleeping just down the hall. This was turning into one weekend that she knew she would never, ever forget, the memories burning brightly through the haze of champagne.

After saying goodnight to her parents, she and Rowan made their way up to her room. They showered together quickly, neither of them wanting to risk making too much noise and being caught. Not to mention that they were both exhausted, especially from his day of travel. Instead, they tenderly washed each other’s hair and bodies until they were clean. It had been a fun night, but she was beyond ready to sink into her sheets and dream about sweet nothings until the smell of bacon and waffles woke her in the morning.

But sleep never came. Rowan’s breathing evened out almost immediately. Constantly jealous of how fast the man managed to fall asleep every night, Aelin watched the ceiling fan spin round and round in her dark room. Her mind was racing again, blistering the truth by dragging it over the hot coals that had become her mind. Everything was mostly fine during the day, but the demons really crept out when the lights turned off and the world got quiet.

After what felt like hours, she gave up and slipped out of bed. She tried to keep her footsteps light as she made her way downstairs so as to not wake everyone else. There was no reason for her to be headed toward the kitchen. Just at the thought of putting more food into her body, Aelin’s stomach ached in protest. Yet all she could think about was the half-eaten chocolate hazelnut cake on the kitchen island that would surely chase away the nightmare of a truth.

The kitchen was dimly illuminated by the ice dispenser on the fridge. She was a thief in the night as she swiped a clean fork from the drawer and removed the domed lid of the cake plate. Not wanting the clatter of getting a plate, she began eating small bites that melted on her tongue. It was the sweetest distraction.

Until she heard footsteps padding down the hall, and saw Rowan appear a moment later. Part of his stomach was exposed from his arm being lifted as he rubbed the back of his neck and yawned widely. If she were closer, she would have been able to count each of his teeth.

“What are you doing awake?”

“I couldn’t sleep.” Her eyes were downcast as she poked at the thick layer of icing, finding it hard to look at him. The truth was a raging ocean, desperate to crash through the dam that was her mouth. Aelin clenched her jaw to keep it in.

“What’s on your mind, love?” Rowan’s hands were gentle as he took the fork from her hands and placed it on the counter. He brought her arms up to his neck and slid his hands down to her sides. Aelin was quiet as she rested her forehead against his chest for a moment, listening to the sound of him breathing to ground her.

“What isn’t on my mind?” The laugh that escaped her was hollow, that ugly truth trying to claw its way out.

The look on Rowan’s face was pensive when she looked up at him. Instead of pushing her in the moment, he placed a kiss on the wrinkle between her brows while he began to sway them in place. The vibration from his chest could be felt in her arms as he hummed a song that was familiar but she couldn’t quite place.

When he took her hand and forced her into a twirl, she laughed. The awful feeling in her chest lifted if only by a little. Aelin almost hated that he was so good at scaring off the monsters. It didn’t seem fair when she could hear the tick tick tick of the bomb in the back of her mind but feel so at peace with being in his arms.

This time, though, she couldn’t just shrug it off. There was no forcing it into a locked room or a box. The truth had become too big, the whole thing had become too much of a mess. It wasn’t anything that she could figure out or salvage on her own. While she desperately wanted to avoid this conversation, she couldn’t keep the words down anymore.

“I need to tell you something,” she finally said with a shaky voice as he pulled her back into a light and casual carriage.

“Okay.”

Aelin’s mouth twisted into a knot much like her stomach. Their movements stilled but she couldn’t quite get herself to let go of him. Worried about what the next few minutes would entail, she rocked up on her toes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. Rowan kissed her back, his hand cradling the back of her head.

“Baby, whatever it is, you can tell me and we can talk it out.”

“I don’t have my masters. I’ve been– I’m taking your class this semester,” she blurted, her voice quivering as much as her fingers and lips.

Beneath her hands, his muscles tensed as he breathed, “What?”

“After I graduated, I traveled for a while. After the accident I just… I managed to finish out my bachelor’s degree and I graduated, and I traveled for a little over a year. I took an internship for six months in the Southern Continent, and then just traveled all over to really soak up the art. And I start this semester for my masters degree.” Each word she said seemed to get softer and more quiet than the last. It didn’t matter that she had rehearsed this speech over and over the last few months. It was an effort to get any of the words out at all.

Rowan’s hands moved to her wrists, and for a moment she thought maybe he was going to tell her it was okay. Instead of words of encouragement, he pulled her hands from his neck and dropped them like she had burned him. He stepped away from her, all the warmth in the room going with him as ice flooded her body. The tension became so frigid she wrapped her arms around her body to give back some of the warmth. Or maybe it was to keep herself in one piece, to keep from shattering into a million pieces on the floor.

“I don’t– fuck, Aelin.”

“I know.” Even to her own ears, her voice sounded small and foreign.

“You should have told me from the beginning.” She knew that, too. Through the haze of her frantically beating heart, she tried to come up with a solution that he might agree to.

“If we just talk to the Dean–”

“You are my student. In my class. In my department. It doesn’t matter that we have an established relationship. You should have told me the truth from the beginning so that I had time to prepare and figure something out. You should have chosen any class but mine–”

“I tried! There wasn’t anything else to fit my schedule and I needed the credit. This isn’t me trying to live some weird fantasy, Rowan. I want to finish my degree and start my career, not jeopardize both of our futures.”

Rowan sighed, his shoulders caving as he rubbed at his face. The silence was a heavy, deafening thing. The roaring of her blood in her veins filled the space between her head. It sounded like she was drowning. The way she was forcing air into her lungs felt like it, too. Tears were burning and clouding her vision as she blinked furiously to keep them from falling. They had never had a fight about anything, save for what they wanted to do for dinner. Their first real and only fight being about the end of their relationship was crushing her in ways she wasn’t prepared for.

Aelin didn’t think she would have ever been ready for this. The invisible string she had always felt like connected them was taught and struggling not to break. She swallowed hard, eyes unfocused on the cake on the counter while she wished she could take back the confession. Hiding it for longer wouldn’t have done any good, but preserving what they had, what they were to each other…

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her heart shattering like glass in his hands. “I know I should have told you sooner. I just wanted to keep this. To keep you.”

His expression was unreadable, hands moving to rest on his hips. Like hers, his eyes were bloodshot and watery, with evidence of more than one tear having fallen down his tan cheek. There was still the rest of the night, there was still tomorrow. Maybe after they settled a little bit she could take him out back and they could lay beneath the stars and figure out this complicated mess she had made.

Maybe he wanted to keep her, too.

“I’m going to get my things and go home,” he finally said, breaking the silence.

“I don’t– please don’t leave me, we can figure something out, we can–” her words failed her. Aelin didn’t have the slightest clue of what they could do, but she was willing to seek out a solution until they found something that stuck.

“I just need time to think.” There was a finality to his tone that she had never quite heard before. The lines of his face had hardened, his jaw sharp and his lips pursed while he looked at anything but her. It was the first time that she had ever felt so young next to him, the first time she had ever really, truly felt the age gap between them.The feeling of being scolded by her parents caused heat to creep up her neck and cheeks, the tips of her ears turning cherry red.

Just like when she was younger and getting in trouble, she knew there was nothing else to be said. Not only because if he needed time she would give it to him, but because of the way he’d said it. No room for argument or debate. It was final.

The knot in her throat made it hard to swallow, to breathe. She found herself speechless as he left the kitchen and disappeared back up to her room. The silence that followed was filled with gasping sobs and she finally started to break down now that he wasn’t there to see it. Aelin’s arms wrapped tightly around her body, her nails digging into her shoulders so hard that it hurt. It took everything to not fall to her knees.

After what felt like ages, Rowan reappeared in the kitchen with his bag over his shoulder. The sadness in his eyes struck her to her core. Knowing that she was the reason for his pain made everything worse, even as he crossed the kitchen and gently wiped the tears from her cheeks. Even though she had wrecked everything they were, he still wanted to comfort her. That alone had the tears falling faster.

“Please don’t leave me. Please don’t break up with me, don’t end this, I can’t–” she begged, her hands reaching for his neck. That he allowed her touch at all surprised her, but his following words sucked all the air from the room.

“I’ll call you, okay?” His voice was raw, the auditory version of tears. All she could do was nod her head and dig her fingers harder into her skin as he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

And then he was walking away, taking her heart with him. The front door closed moments later, and Aelin sank to her knees and cried.

~*~

It was a rare day that Aelin Galathynius didn’t feel like partying. Especially if that party was to celebrate a major holiday that required getting all dolled up. Yet as she sat in the corner of the room in the sparkling gold dress she had thought would bring Rowan to his knees before her, she didn’t care.

She didn’t care about the dress, her smudged makeup, or the half-assed curls she’d done. It didn’t matter that it was written all over her face how upset she was as her friends and family buzzed around the closer it got to midnight. Every now and then, someone would come and check on her, but she kept insisting it was fine, that she didn’t need a babysitter and everyone else should have fun.

Her mom had found her that morning, still sitting on the kitchen floor with her arms wrapped tightly around her legs. Silent tears streaked down her cheeks as she numbly explained everything. Evalin sat on the floor with her, embracing her daughter while she whispered that everything would be alright. Aelin wanted to believe her, but wasn’t sure she was capable of it. It didn’t feel like anything would ever be alright again.

It wasn’t just the relationship she was mourning, but the version of herself she was when she was with Rowan. Evalin had always told her that she should find the person that made her not be afraid to unapologetically be herself and keep them forever. Rowan was that person. There was never any judgment from him, only acceptance. Aelin had always been a wildfire, but after everything with Sam it had been dampened. It was the first time in years that Aelin had truly been herself, and she wasn’t the only one that knew it. Over the last few months her phone was riddled with texts about how good it was to see her happy, how good it was to have her back.

Aelin swallowed her, fidgeting with the beads on her dress. Her friends wandered over to where she sat in the corner, Dorian perching on the armrest of the oversized chair she’d claimed. The golden shoes she’d been so excited to wear were haphazardly slewn on the ground while her feet remained tucked beneath her body. If anyone were to bring up whatever conversation was being had later, Aelin wouldn’t be able to tell you what it was about. Her eyes had been fixed on the fire for hours and she had no desire to stop now.

Minutes before midnight, Aelin stole a full bottle of champagne and slipped outside while everyone scrambled to find their partners or a random pair of lips to kiss. It was cold, but she welcomed it, her bare feet padding along the brick flooring until she was able to curl up on a lawn chair. In seconds, she was shivering, and with shaky hands she popped open the bottle, holding it out over the ground. Some of it splashed onto her hands and legs but she was beyond the point of caring.

Through the windows, she could hear her loved ones shouting a countdown. Then they were cheering, and she didn’t have to look inside to know that everyone was sharing kisses and excitement for the new year. Aelin was supposed to be kissing Rowan right now. Her mind was supposed to be racing with what was to come for their relationship. She wasn’t supposed to be alone in the cold, thinking in what-ifs and guzzling champagne straight from the bottle.

The back door slid open, then closed. A moment later a jacket was being draped over her shoulders. She didn’t have to look over to know it was her father; the scent of his cologne was enough. Rhoe was quiet, running his hand over the back of her head while she stared at the stars.

“It’s supposed to be fun,” he said quietly, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the top of her head. It was supposed to be fun, but Aelin couldn’t find any joy in the day. “Happy new year, Fireheart.”

“You too.” Her voice sounded disconnected and odd, quiet and scratchy. She hadn’t spoken much since she spilled everything to her mother. As she took another swig, filling her mouth with fizzy bubbles, she registered her dad’s footsteps retreating back inside.

Instead of making the new notch of ways she’d kissed Rowan on the balcony, she broke the bottle and used its sharp edge to carve a new line into the wood instead: ways that Aelin had broken her own heart.

Aelin stayed there, begging the stars until her bones began to hurt from the cold. Only then did she make the journey back to her room, the confetti a mockery of her exploded secrets scattered on the floor.

The only semblance of comfort she got that night was falling into her bed that still smelled faintly of pine and snow.

~*~

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