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mariaofdoranelle · 5 months

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Look at Us Now - ch. 20

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I think this is my time to shine with an unhinged A/N! I went to Rio to see Taylor Swift, she postponed my show when I was already inside the stadium enduring so much heat several people were passing out or got 2nd degree burns just to touch metal. Then I had to run from not one, but TWO mass muggings (if there’s even a translation for ‘arrastão’ in english). But now I’m home, on a very long break!! And with every intention to bring back LAUN Thursdays.

I’m also using two prompts! This anon one and this from @autumnbabylon

Warnings: language, light NSFW, a small home explosion

Words: 3,8k

If watching Maisie leave because of their custody arrangement was a painful part of Rowan’s weekly routine, he wasn’t ready for the ache he felt in his chest today, when he watched Aelin go with their little girl as well, after everything that happened in the past hours.

Turns out she was meeting Dorian today to discuss a patient she was seeing tomorrow morning. Even if they worked at different places, they often sought each other out when dealing with a difficult or uncommon case.

It was a bittersweet feeling, being alone after one of the best moments of his life. It all came back in flashes while he tried to clean Maisie’s room and the mess of toys she leaves scattered after her stay. He could barely remember where each toy went because his mind only had space for Aelin’s kisses and hips and soft sighs and the lavender smell that still lingered on his arms.

Rowan felt this joyful heat inside him, as golden as Aelin’s hair, making his hands tingle and giving him a sense of weightlessness he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Aelin barged into his house and demanded things he was preparing himself to beg her. Aelin pressed on his bed, squirming under his touch. Aelin having a lazy Sunday morning while he cooked his girls breakfast. Aelin. Aelin. Aelin.

His mind sounded like a terribly cliché broken record today.

A few knocks on his front door snapped him out of his thoughts. Did Aelin forget something?

A resigned sigh left Rowan’s lips when he realized it was not the blonde he was hoping for.

“Rowie Bowie.” Fenrys’ smirk was too big for his face. “I know something you don’t know I know.”

Before he could forget, Rowan picked the speeding ticket that was sent to his place and handed it to his friend. “You should really update your home address.” A pause. “And drive carefully.”

Fenrys moved out before Maisie could even speak. His bedroom even became a guest room, but the man has yet to change his address in any official records. Rowan didn’t mind as much as he protested, though; at least his friend’s Amazon packages were going to the right place.

“I should’ve gone to Aelin’s with Dor.” Fenrys folded his ticket and shoved it down his pocket as if it were an old napkin, then threw himself on the couch. “I swear to God, Rowan, you tell me every gossip in that base at lightning speed, but when you and Aelin finally—“

“You know I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Well, Aelin is telling right now. Over Adarlanian candy.”

Rowan chuckled and grabbed two beers in his fridge, then tossed one to Fenrys. ‘Kiss and tell’ sounded like such a diminishing way to put what happened last night, but the message was still the same. He didn’t mind how Aelin processed what happened and if she talked about him to her friends, it just wasn’t his style.

“Dorian was in Rifthold this week?” Rowan changed the subject, finally catching on the ‘Adarlanian candy’ comment.

Being a self-employed doctor gave the man a flexible work schedule, something that Fenrys could only dream of, working in the military. Dorian always waited for Fen’s breaks to go on trips, but Rowan saw how his friend looked like a lost puppy whenever his boyfriend left for medical conferences or to visit his family in Rifthold without taking him.

“Yeah. When he came back, he suggested we take the next step in our relationship.” Fenrys had a silly smile on his face, eyes trained on the beer bottle he clutched. “I’m very excited about it.”

Rowan sat back, surprised. “You’re getting married?”

“Not yet. We’re not ready,” said the man who’s been living with his boyfriend for about five years. Rowan wouldn’t mention it, though.

“You’re becoming exclusive?”

“Nope. Would you let me finish?”

Rowan raised his brows, a silent request to proceed, and watched his friend’s expression slowly melt.

Fen continued, “We’re adopting.”

Wow. Rowan’s mouth fell open, and he couldn’t quite find the words. Fatherhood is no joke, so this was the last thing he expected to hear from his most unserious friend, but he was so incredibly thrilled for Fenrys. He would absolutely nail it, just like he did everything he set his mind to.

“That’s amazing, Fen.” Rowan sipped his beer. “So Maisie gets a playmate, huh?”

“You bet she does,” he chirped, beaming. “We don’t have a lot figured out yet, and Dor’s still picking the breed, but I’m so excited.”

“The… breed?” Rowan trailed.

“Dor’s really into this dog breed stuff, so I’m letting him call the shots. I don’t care about that, I’m just happy to have a puppy.”

Oh. They’re adopting a dog, not a human. Now that Rowan thought about it, it made more sense.

They chatted a little more in his living room, and it was in the middle of a heated discussion about a colonel’s love life—more specifically, his excess of mistresses inside base—that Rowan’s phone chimed.

It was Aelin, and he was confused to hear Maisie’s screeching while her mother tried to talk to him. “What happened?”

“She wants to—“

“WANNA SEE THE PUPPIES,” Maisie interrupted.

Aelin sighed. “She just learned what an adoption fair is, and—“

It was hard to hear her over their daughter’s screams, especially because Aelin liked to look collected when Maisie threw a tantrum, which meant no shouting over her. However, Rowan understood her saying something along the lines of “It’s on your weekend with her.”

So that was the issue. Rowan was still a little confused, but it sounded like Aelin couldn’t give Maisie permission to go right away because it would be during his parenting time, and the little girl lost it.

“Hey, um—“ he cleared his throat. “Can you hand the phone to Maisie? I’ll put it on FaceTime.”

In the meantime, he cast a glance at Fenrys, grimacing. “I think Maisie wants to go to the adoption fair with you.”

His friend didn’t look up from his phone, smiling. There was a chance Dorian was texting him that right now. “Good. I bet she’s better at finding cute dogs than Dor.”

Over the phone, after hearing the story again from his daughter’s lips, Rowan looked deep into Maisie’s puffy eyes, using his serious dad voice to ask, “Did Uncle Dorian invite you to see the puppies, or you invited yourself?”

The last thing he wanted was to intrude in the couple’s plans, and he knew Maisie wasn’t beyond that to see puppies.

Yet, she shook her head. “He asked me. I promise.”

“Okay, then.” Rowan’s warning stare didn’t relieve Maisie yet. “But…”

His last word hung in the air, filling his daughter’s hopeful, wide eyes. Everyone joked about how every Whitethorn had the exact same set of pine-green eyes, yet Maisie’s were his favorite. He would do anything to never see them tainted with red, absolutely hated when his little girl cried, but he still needed to set boundaries.

“We’re not adopting any dog, okay? You can play with them, you can help your uncles pick theirs, but we’re not bringing a puppy home.”

Maisie agreed to his terms without protest, though he didn’t know for how long. Rowan sloped back on his couch when the phone call ended, waiting for Fenrys to finish raiding his fridge.

“Dor got you real good, man,” he said on his way back, holding two beers and a plate of Aelin’s chocolate cake. “Munchkin will call herself Ryder and make your life hell until you adopt an entire Paw Patrol for her.”

Rowan snorted, knowing his friend was absolutely right. But that’s okay, he also had faith in his own parenting skills. Being a five-year-old’s dad meant he had some pretty good bribes up his sleeve.

˜˜

Rowan should’ve known he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands away from Aelin for long.

His restlessness restarted after Dorian picked Fenrys up in his house to leave, and it was almost embarrassing how little he contained himself before speed walking the way that led to Aelin’s house.

Now she sat on her office’s desk, legs wrapped around him, right beside the medical books and magazines she should be reading now.

“We’ll have more time later if I just—oh, fuck.”

Rowan swallowed her whimper with a kiss, both hands on her ribcage while his thumbs teased her nipples under her shirt, through her lacy bra. Aelin pressed herself against him as if they could get any closer, and the weight of his length on her made her chase more friction in that area, biting his lip as she did.

“Did you lock the door?”

“Yes.” Rowan kissed the spot between her neck and her shoulder, careful not to leave a mark. It meant more trouble than it’s worth in their line of work. “But you still need to keep quiet.”

She chuckled, her breath fanned against his neck and made him want to do unspeakable—

“Don’t you think she’s too quiet?”

Her sentence sliced through his lustful haze. This was a dangerous sign, some of his most traumatizing moments as a parent started when Maisie was quiet for too long. He did some parent math in his head. Aelin’s clothes were still on, so they weren't gone too long. But he had a feeling it was longer than he should leave his kid unattended.

Rowan took a step back. “I should go check on her.”

Her bittersweet smile said she agreed, but Aelin was quick to tug him closer again, though it lacked the heat from when she did it minutes ago. “But it’s really rude to leave me hot and bothered like this.”

His reply was a noncommittal huh, too distracted by the smirk on her lips to think of a smart retort.

“Uh-huh. And I’ll only forgive you if you stay the night.”

Rowan smirked. “I guess I have no choice. I can’t leave unforgiven after such a great offense.”

She gave him one last kiss, though it was a bit hard amongst all the grinning, and sat back on the chair behind her books. He took the room in while giving himself time to cool down after their make-out session. Their houses had the exact same layout, but she used as an office the room Rowan used as a guest room, formerly Fenrys’ old room. The thought made him snort, calling her attention. He could trust Aelin to turn one of the biggest rooms in the house into a library.

She squinted her eyes at him. “What’re you laughing at?”

“Did you know that Maisie’s been telling her friends that her mother’s office doesn’t have walls, just books?”

“Yeah, I got that email too.” Aelin’s voice was amused.

Rowan stepped around the room, reading the books’ spines. Her office was nothing more than four walls of shelves, a couch by the window and a big desk with her computer in the middle. And a smell that kept Aedion and his allergies away from here.

The most frequent genre was medical books, but they weren’t even a third of them all. She just had everything there. Modern and classics. Fantasy and non-fiction. Horror and romance. At the latter section, Rowan’s eyes went up, away from what Maisie’s prying eyes could reach, and finally found what he was looking for.

“What’re you looking for?” Aelin asked, her voice as grave as a crime scene tape. Do not cross.

But it was too late for her, because he already found what he wanted. The Wrong Mr. Right. The Darkest Temptation. Doctor Daddy. Forbidden Single Dad. He tugged at a random one, wondering if he’d find a shirtless man in the cover.

“Put it back!”

The smirk Rowan concealed with a mocking pout was near transparent. “But I want to see if the pages are sticky.”

“Rowan Whitethorn.” Aelin got up from her chair. “You. Are. Ridiculous.” She pointed at the locked door. “Now go! You have a daughter to feed.”

In the living room, he found Maisie lying on her stomach on her play mat. Rowan’s chest warmed at the sight of his little angel. He kept his steps light, ready to sneak up on her. She was just playing on his phone, and to think he thought she’d—

What he saw on the screen was enough to sour his mood.

“Maisie.” Rowan used his stern dad voice, making the little girl stiffen. “What did we talk about games with guns?”

“Daddy.” Maisie’s voice was just as serious, maybe too stern for her height. “You’re a good man, but I can’t accept that.”

He didn’t argue, just outstretched his hand, waiting for her to give the phone back.

She complied with a frown. “Uncle Fen says you work with guns.”

Phones and Fenrys. Two of the long list of things he couldn’t leave Maisie with unsupervised. It wasn’t his favorite class to teach, but Rowan occasionally taught Gun Safety, mostly when there was a shortage of instructors or when Lorcan got mad at Fenrys for letting the new recruits cosplay James Bond with the guns. Not the kind of knowledge he wanted his five-year-old to have, though.

“Sometimes, I teach young people how to be responsible when they’re carrying a gun. It’s very different from those games you want to play.”

“Sounds boring.”

“Very. Now let’s make your mom some tea.”

Rowan set Maisie with a coloring book in the dining table while he looked for a snack to give Aelin while she studied in the office. When he found the tea bags and cookies, Rowan struggled to start the stove. In fact, after further inspection, half the knobs weren’t working.

“Mais, did your mom tell you anything about the stove?”

“She says we need a new one,” his daughter said without taking her eyes off her art piece.

Sounds like Aelin. Of course she’d try to buy a new one without even trying to fix this one. Stoves weren’t his area of expertise, but anyone could fix anything in the Youtube Era.

Which led him back to an issue he was currently dealing with, Rowan mused as he searched for Aelin’s limited toolbox. He failed Aelin when she needed him the most. She pushed him away and hid major stuff of her life from him because she found him unreliable and untrustworthy. Yes, they were together now, but Rowan knew damn well that having sex wouldn’t rebuild her trust in him.

Aelin told him she loved him, and he believed her. But lack of love wasn’t the reason his family broke apart years ago. Now she was giving him one more chance, and Rowan would be damned if he wasted it.

To his luck, Maisie was being a good sport while he tried to fix the stove. Apart from taking a look at the insides of it when he took off the knobs and the cover of the control panel, she kept to her coloring book. Not having to wrangle her gave him space to think.

His session with Yrene was nice, but it wouldn’t happen again. At the end, she recommended other therapists for Rowan and suggested they stay just with family therapy. He had a suspicion it was because he—very subtly—kept trying to pry out of Yrene Aelin’s opinions on everything he talked about.

But it was better than he anticipated. She helped him organize his thoughts and come up with own advice to himself. She’s great, or at least better at this than Fenrys. Rowan even scheduled another appointment with one of her recommendations, mostly because he still had some things to consider regarding Aelin.

Spiraling in his own self-loathing wouldn’t fix anything, but that didn’t mean his feelings had changed. Rowan was just moving forward and trying to fix things at the same time he dealt with his fucked-up conscience.

He had no idea how to gain Aelin’s trust again. But, today, he’d fix her stove. Rowan inspected the knobs for dirt. Cleaned the contacts. Checked for loose wires. Managed to keep the kid alive while she read medical journals. When Aelin left her office today, would she see herself relying on him like this in the long term, and not just this Sunday?

“I think we’re done here, Mais,” he said after reassembling everything.

“Finally!” His daughter jumped off the chair. “Daddy, this was sooo…” Maisie dragged the adverb for as long as her breath allowed. “boring.”

He lightly tugged on one of her pigtails. “But if I got it right, I’ll be able to cook whatever you want. How about that?”

The girl’s eyes lit up at that, and there was nothing else for Rowan to do than test. He had a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach as he turned the stove on.

Every single knob was working on full power.

Rowan let out a borderline arrogant laugh, his chest radiating with warmth as he picked Maisie up. “Are you seeing that?”

She threw both arms up. “We did it!”

He smacked a kiss at her cheek. He was smug, yes, but not enough to tell Maisie she didn’t do anything. His daughter could take all the credit she wanted.

After putting her back on the floor, he picked his phone to record this, since he didn’t want to interrupt Aelin’s study session.

“Hey, Aelin,” he said with the camera pointed at the working stove. “I cleaned it on the inside and fixed some loose wires. All six knobs are working now, as you can see. Now I’m gonna close one by one…”

As soon as the fire dimmed in the first knob he closed, it resurged a lot higher with a loud bang. Maisie’s loud scream was what unfroze him, making him disconnect the power source while loud footsteps came from the hallway.

“What was that?” Aelin asked, eyes wide from the kitchen door.

“Um—“

“DADDY KILLED THE STOVE.”

The little traitor. Hadn’t they fixed it together?

He made sure Maisie was alright, then explained everything to Aelin, even showed her the video. While he did it, Rowan expected everything. Anger, annoyance, frustration.

He just didn’t expect Aelin to throw her head back and cackle.

“You silly Buzzard.” She caressed his cheek with her thumb. “You didn’t have to do all this. I already bought a cooktop way cooler than this old thing.”

His face fell. “You did what?”

She wiggled her eyebrows at Maisie. “Now that there’s no stove, I guess we’ll have to eat pizza for dinner.”

The little girl cheered, bringing a smile to his face. He squeezed Aelin’s hand. “I’ll order one when you’re finished.”

It’s the least he could do, after completely butchering her half-working stove.

“Nah.” Aelin sneaked a peck when Maisie had her back to them. “Enough studying for today.”

˜˜

After putting Maisie to sleep, Aelin was telling him about the little parts of her day that he didn’t experience firsthand.

“Are you sure you don’t want one?” She offered the candy Dorian brought from Adarlan. Apparently, it was one of his most important obligations as her best friend whenever he visited his family. She had her favorites, but he often added some new ones for her to try.

“I’ll pass, but thanks.”

At first, it was really hard to understand the nature of Aelin’s relationship with Dorian. The fact that they’re thick as thieves despite being exes, were together and with other people at the same time with no jealousy… it’s a lot to grasp. Rowan didn’t think he ever would, but he did understand that whatever she had with Dorian didn’t impact her romantic feelings towards him, and that’s all he needed to know.

Besides, it was transparent how in love he was with Fenrys, in their own modern, slutty way. Rowan only had to thank the man for taking care of two of his favorite people.

“There’s this other thing…” Aelin trailed, biting her lip. The change in her expression was enough to pique his interest, especially when he saw the bag she retrieved from under her bed.

“Jizz and Bone?” He read out loud the name on the bag with a questioning tone, eyes widening at the suggestive logo.

“Yes.” Aelin’s face wasn’t half as serious as she was trying to make it look. “This is from Fen’s and Dorian’s favorite gay sex shop, but it’s just chocolate—“

“Are you telling me he bought you gay chocolate? Is that a thing?”

“Yes.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him. “And it’s not even the gayest thing I’m putting in my mouth tonight.”

Rowan pinched her side, making the little smart-ass squeal. He could always count on Aelin to keep the most embarrassing moments of his life alive. “You’re gonna explain the chocolate or not?”

“Yes!” She gave herself a moment to die down from laughing. “He bought it for himself, but gave me a bar when I told him we got together. It’s aphrodisiac chocolate.”

“Lovely.” Rowan made a show of pretending to look at it before giving it back to her. “But I don’t like chocolate.”

“But you love steamy sex.”

Rowan sighed. That he did. “Aelin…” he flipped her so he could cage her in the bed, hovering over her. He nipped her pulse point before whispering in her ear, “Take a quick look in the mirror, and you’ll see why I don’t need chocolate to turn me on.”

She shivered, but still grabbed his hair and made their eyes meet to say, “I want to try it. If you’re not a willing participant, I can try alone tomorrow with my vibra—“

Rowan groaned in protest, but rolled off of her to put the recommended dose of aphrodisiac chocolate in his mouth. He winced at the sweet taste, mixed with velvety flavors and exotic spices, but at least it was better than he expected. Aelin did the same, though she looked a lot more pleased with the taste.

They set a timer for thirty minutes as they were oriented to in the box, since Aelin wanted to do a precise evaluation, in her own words, and she continued to talk about her day. As much as she tried to make it sound simple, it took only a few minutes for Rowan to accept that he’d never understand her doctor talk, so he just nodded along and reacted according to her facial expressions. She could be talking absolute nonsense with an angry face just to get an equally angry reaction from him, he’d never know.

Aelin frowned when the timer went off. “I don’t feel anything. Did the chocolate work with you?”

“I never hoped it would.”

“Shame.” Aelin sighed. “Wanna fuck anyway?”

It was record-breaking, the speed in which Rowan pulled her to his lap.

You can get notified when I update by either turning notifications on for @backtobl4ck-fics or entering my (sometimes glitchy) tag list!!

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I couldn’t tag the people in bold, sorry!

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#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #throne of glass #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan x aelin #aelin x rowan #look at us now #rowaelin fanfic #throne of glass fanfic

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shivunin · 19 days

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WIP Wednesday

Thank you for the tags @pinayelf @inquisimer and @greypetrel! Most of what I'm working on is secret for the moment, but I have been playing with this little piece c: Tagging back @ndostairlyrium @daggerbean @vakarians-babe @ruthvelyan @dungeons-and-dragon-age @idolsgf @nightwardenminthara @bitchesofostwick @zenstrike @star--nymph and @transprincecaspian, no pressure!

From a piece about Adhlea (Cullen and Emma's daughter) and Leander (Fenris and Maria's eldest):

Adhlea was almost certain she was being punished for something.

She wasn’t sure what—she’d been very good ever since she’d finally gotten a little sister—but these stiff clothes and pinchy shoes could only mean she was being punished. It really didn’t make any sense at all. She’d told her mamae as much before they’d left the house and her mother had laughed.

“It is a tradition, ma vherain. This is important to your Papa, so you must do your very best to sit still and pay attention. Here—if you have any questions, you may write them down in this little notebook and save them for later. I think it is rude to talk during services. Ah—here is your papa now. ”

Well, Adhlea could feel the notebook knock against her leg while she kicked her heels in the foyer of the lady Hawke’s manor now, but she had no interest at all in writing anything down.

“But why will we have to be sitting for the whole time?” she asked, peering up at her Papa. He tugged at the cuffs of his shirt, eyes tilted up at the corners, and opened his mouth to answer.

“Because the Mother gets to be taller than everyone else,” a small voice piped from the doorway, and Adhlea grimaced.

“Ta said so,” Leander went on, sauntering into the room with his nose in the air. “He said it’s a sign of respect. And respect means we got to sit down.”

“Hello, Leander,” Adhlea said begrudgingly, summoning something like a smile. She was trying. Hard. She was.

“Also,” Leander went on grandly, as if she hadn’t spoken at all, “there is going to be smoke. On purpose.”

“I know that,” Adhlea said, the smile crawling away from her face. She couldn’t help it; her mamae and papa wanted the two of them to be friends so badly that they didn’t seem to notice how hard Leander always worked to irritate her.

“Well then, where does it come from?” he asked, his eyebrows squinching up in that way she hated. Always asking her questions he knew she didn’t have the answers for—always!

“It is time to go,” the boy’s father said, appearing in the doorway with little warning. Adhlea took a step back, feeling the warmth of her father’s hand at her shoulder.

“Messere Hawke,” Papa said, squeezing her slightly before bowing. “Where is the Ch–ah—is your wife not planning on joining us?”

“Hawke needs to rest,” the shorter man said gravely.

While his attention was focused on her father, Adhlea took the opportunity to peer up and up at him. Leander’s father was brown like her mamae and marked all over like her mamae, but Adhlea had been expressly forbidden to ask about the blue lines the way she asked about her mamae's vallaslin. It is private, her mamae had said, and Adhlea knew what private meant, she did, only they were very interesting lines and once she swore she had seen them light up and she really did want to know what they were and—

“Young Lavellan,” the man said gravely. Adhlea ducked her head at once, squirming in her shoes. Her papa nudged her gently and she remembered herself.

Manners, he had told her often, always matter.

“Good morning, Messere,” she said, executing a neat bow of her own. “Thank you for coming with us to the Chantry.”

Silence.

Leander scuffed his bare foot on the tile floor and Adhlea grimaced again. It was unfair that he never had to wear shoes and she did—yet another thing Leander could hold over her head. Ugh. And now she would probably have to sit with him for the whole service. Who knew how long that could be? Years, probably, and her stomach was already gurgling. She should have tried to eat more of her breakfast, but it had seemed too hard.

“Yes,” the man said at last, “of course. Well?”

“Let’s go!” Leander said, and barreled past her for the door.

Adhlea realized with no small amount of satisfaction that he had to stand on his toes to reach the handle properly. She was taller than him, at least; she would have to make certain he knew it as soon as possible.

#my secret is i love writing kid rivalries #i just think they're so intense and so nonsensical #i know i've been writing this chapter for like a year but. it is almost done i swear lol #cullavellan #wip wednesday #adhlea lavellan #leander hawke #they are frenemies even after the events of this short story. but like. best frenemies #bickering constantly but maker forbid someone tries to mess with one of them in front of the other #anyways i am mostly working on a blanket rn as far as crocheting goes while i toy w my next scarf concept #and then i have my exchange thing to work on #so i don't have much otherwise on the wip front

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juniemoe · 5 months

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thatdogmagic · 2 years

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I am still quite fond of Sandra’s WtA design.

#werewolf #werewolves #werewolf: the apocalypse #w:ta #wta #ch: Sandra #get of fenris #ahroun #sometimes philodox #thatartmagic #thatAUmagic

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leiawritesstories · 8 months

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Just "Friends"

Rowaelin Month 2023, Day 4: Friends Don't Do This

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: some swearing

enjoy!!

@rowaelinscourt

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ever since Rowan Whitethorn moved into the apartment directly above hers, Aelin Galathynius had made it her goal to send the building’s management as many complaints as possible. He was too loud after hours. He was always moving around furniture. He entertained friends almost every weekend, and those people never stopped yelling and drinking. He painted the walls.

That last one had resulted in a visit from the landlord and a very irritated Rowan pounding on Aelin’s door with a promise of retribution.

But after a prank gone very, very wrong, they had settled into a casual sort of friendship, which eventually matured into a real friendship.

Now, they were at each other’s apartments more than their own, and Aelin certainly wasn’t complaining. Rowan was a far better cook than she could ever dream of being, and in return, she had a better knack for interior decorating than he did. Fenrys had just about passed out from shock the first time he came over to Rowan’s to find the apartment actually set up for entertaining. He liked to joke that he’d never seen the furniture before, since he was always so busy tripping over it.

Aelin headed up the stairs with her work tote slung over her shoulder, thinking only of the incredibly long, relaxing bath she was about to take. She checked her phone, scrolling through a whole workday’s worth of notifications, and noticed a text from Rowan from an hour ago.

>>Your place tonight? Avoiding meddlesome parents. She cracked a tired smile.

<<Only if you handle dinner. Brainpower is 100% drained.

His reply pinged through in seconds.

>>Deal.

She arrived at her apartment to find Rowan leaning against the doorframe, dressed in comfortable black sweatpants and a University of Wendlyn Hockey t-shirt. Through her end-of-the-workweek exhaustion, she only managed to nod at him as she unlocked the door.

“Hey.” His hand came to rest comfortably on her lower back, offering support and comfort. “Long week?”

“So long.” She kicked off her heels, dropped her bag on the floor, and pulled the clip from her twisted-up hair. “Gods, I need food. And probably a drink.”

“I can help with that.” He shut the door behind them, ignoring the way his heartbeat sped up at the sight of Aelin with her hair unbound. “How does chicken Parmesan sound?”

“Fucking fantastic,” she sighed. “Wait. Doesn’t that take a long time to make?”

“Not if you prepped most of it earlier.” He looped one arm around her shoulders. “Go on, get comfortable, I’ll yell when it’s done.”

“Someone wants to have another noise complaint filed against him.” A grin flashed across her face. “I’m going to take a bath.” She headed down to her bedroom and locked the door behind herself out of habit. Within minutes, her work clothes were tossed haphazardly onto the floor and the bathwater was running, filling the tub with steaming hot water and the herbal aroma of lavender bath salts.

Aelin couldn’t hold back her quiet moan as she settled into the bath, feeling a week’s worth of stress and tension slowly seep out of her body the more she relaxed into the steaming, lavender-scented water. She closed her eyes and went through the steps of an exercise her therapist had given her years ago: see the thoughts, untangle the thoughts, and let the thoughts drift away until her mind was clear. By the time she’d cleared her mind of all the ridiculous bullshit she’d had thrown at her that week, the water had started to cool off, and Rowan was knocking at the bedroom door.

“Aelin?” A brief pause. “Dinner’s ready, Galathynius.”

“Out in a minute!” she called back, reluctantly opening the bathtub drain. Within a few minutes, she was dried off and dressed in her favorite sweatpants and sweatshirt set, fuzzy socks on her feet. She threw her hair into a loose braid and headed out into the kitchen, where she found freshly-cooked chicken Parmesan, pasta, a chopped vegetable salad, and a bottle of red wine. Her stomach grumbled. Loudly.

Rowan laughed. “Hope it’s as good as it looks.” He pulled out her chair. “C’mon, Galathynius, don’t just stand there, it’s not gonna eat itself.”

“Funny,” she deadpanned. She waited for him to take his set, poured both of them a generous glass of wine, and tucked into her dinner. “Oh my god,” she breathed. “This is incredible.”

“Thanks.” He grinned at her. “Anything for my neighbor who can’t boil water.”

She rolled her eyes. “Actually, I can boil water, I just prefer when other people do it for me.”

After they were done eating, Aelin collected the plates, ignoring Rowan’s insistence that he help with cleanup. “Uh-uh, Whitethorn. You cooked, I’ll load the dishwasher.”

“But–”

“But nothing, you hovering buzzard. You can put away the leftovers, but you aren’t helping with the dishes.” She waved off his next protest. “I’m mature enough to keep my own kitchen clean. How about you find a show or something to watch?”

“Fine,” he acceded. “I’m not picking one of your ridiculous reality shows, though!”

“You know you love The Bachelor as much as I do!” she called back, teasingly.

He grumbled, but when she strolled into the living room after the dishes were taken care of, he’d queued up an old season of Project Runway and tossed a few plush throw blankets onto the couch. The lights were dimmed. It was…shockingly perfect.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’ve been hanging out with me for too long,” Aelin drawled, settling herself on the couch with the blankets wrapped around her.

Rowan snorted. “More like I know better than to try and put on a docuseries when you’ve had a shit week.”

“How sweet,” she cooed. “There’s one thing you’re forgetting, though.”

“What?”

“C’mere.” She sat up, inviting him into the space behind her, and settled comfortably back against his warm, solid strength. He twined his arms around her middle, fixed the blankets so both of them were cozily cocooned, and let her tired body melt into him.

“Anything else, Galathynius?” His tone was dry, but lighthearted. “Silk sheets? Room service?”

“Just press play, you idiot,” she laughed, poking him halfheartedly in the chest. It didn’t hurt at all, since there were several layers of blankets (and clothes) between them.

He chuckled and pressed play, and in minutes, both Aelin and Rowan were absorbed in the world of fashion design, bad ideas and terrible design choices and horrifically hilarious mishaps and all. Though he’d never admit it, part of him liked the shitty reality TV shows Aelin always watched when she needed to unwind.

“Oh my gods,” Aelin groaned. “How the hell did they even let him near a sewing machine?” She muttered a few choice curses. “That poor model looks so uncomfortable.”

Rowan mumbled in agreement, more caught up in the sensation of Aelin’s fingernails combing through his hair than anything happening on the TV, more concerned with the possibility of her realizing he’d shifted his hands to her back and her loose golden braid–a position that bordered on something far more intimate than friendship–and pulling away from his embrace.

“You’re not even paying attention,” she teased, brushing her thumb across his cheekbone.

“Um…yes?” A smile curled the corners of his lips at her soft little laugh.

“Liar.” She turned her attention back to the show, where the designer she’d just castigated was running around in theatrical distress because his beloved creation had split right down the side, but kept her fingertips resting against his face, atop the ink that spiraled up his profile.

He’d be lying if he said his attention didn’t hone in on that specific spot of contact.

The episode ended–to Aelin’s delight, the designer she hated had to go home–and she turned her head to face him full-on, rambling about who she wanted to win the season. He barely heard any of it; he was too focused on the vivid sparkle in her eyes.

“I keep forgetting you don’t watch these shows for fun,” she joked, stopping her breathless ramble before she could go into the designs.

“But you do.”

“So you tolerate it.” She traced the lines of his tattoo.

He slid the tie from the end of her braid and trailed his hand through her silky hair. “I could get used to the overdone drama.”

She snickered. “Rowan Whitethorn, you’re a–”

“Oh my gods!” An entirely unexpected voice broke their cozy little bubble. Elide stood in the kitchen, her eyes almost as wide as her dropped jaw.

In a flash, Aelin was up and rushing to her friend. “Ells! Wait–you don’t need to–I can–” She pulled Elide into her bedroom, shut the door, and prepared for the incoming storm.

“What the hell?!” Elide shrieked. “You weren’t answering, so I used the emergency key, and I walk into your place to find you and Rowan Whitethorn on your couch, cuddling?!” She rubbed her eyes. “Gods, please tell me you weren’t–oh fuck no…” She trailed off, incredulous.

Aelin was blushing bright red by that time. “NO!” she screeched, then lowered her voice to a whisper. “We were watching Project Runway! He’s literally just my friend, Ells!”

“Friends,” Elide hissed, placing her hands on Aelin’s shoulders and staring directly into her eyes, “do not do what I just witnessed!”

Aelin didn’t have anything to say about that.

“Aelin.” As always, Elide was far too perceptive for her own good. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you and Rowan are just friends.”

“Rowan and I are…” Aelin stopped. “I-I can’t tell you that, Ells.” She gulped, sudden uncertainty throwing her for a loop. “Oh gods, what if I say something and he leaves? I don’t know if I–”

“He’s not going to leave.” Elide cut her off. “Here’s what’s going to happen. First, I’m going to leave, because you don’t need anyone else around for the next few hours. You’re going to go out there. You’re going to tell Rowan what just happened when he inevitably asks. And then you’ll be disgustingly in love for the rest of your lives and you can give me credit at your wedding.” She hugged Aelin briefly and tightly. “Go get the man who’s so hopelessly in love with you that he watches your shitty TV shows.” Blowing her a kiss, Elide left.

Aelin blew out a shaky sigh and headed out into the living room, tentatively crossing to where Rowan was frozen on the couch. His eyes locked onto her as she padded across the hardwood floor and stopped in front of him, unsure whether to sit back down or stay there.

“Hey,” he said softly, breaking the silence. “That was…uh…unexpected?”

“And then some,” she added. A thousand emotions flickered across her face. “Rowan, I–”

“I need to–”

They spoke at the same time.

He stopped. “You go ahead.”

“Are we just friends?” she blurted. “Because…because I don’t want to be just friends.”

“I don’t want to be just friends either.” His voice was a bare whisper, but it thrummed with conviction. “I’m in love with you, Aelin Galathynius.”

She cracked a quivering smile. “That was fast.”

He looped his arms around her waist and tugged her down into his lap. “I guess it took me long enough to admit it to myself, and once it was out there, I didn’t want to waste any more time.”

“Oh, Rowan,” she whispered, wonder filling her tone, “I might be in love with you, too.”

~~~

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