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thesurielships · 5 years

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We are golden stars upon silver seas

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: Feyre hates Rhys. She ruins his chances with the new girl.

Masterlist

Feyre Archeron wasn’t drunk. She was in her favorite bar, in her favorite seat, served by her favorite barista, in her best drinking gear, and she was not drunk. Nor drinking.

Why, then, wasn’t she drunk?

Raucous laughter reverberated through the bar. Feyre glared at the bane of her existence, whose sheer presence made everything - including the wine in her mouth - turn sour.

Rhysand was guffawing with his Inner Circle. He seemed to be telling a story so funny that they dissolved into laughter every two sentences. Of course, he would be the life of the party. Of course, he would choose this bar to have his party at. Of fucking course.

‘You’re staring,’ Alis chided.

‘He’s an eyesore,’ Feyre sighed.

‘Sure he is,’ her friend chuckled. ‘Oh, there is Viviane.’

Feyre looked up, and sure enough, the new girl had just entered the bar. She had porcelain skin and white blond hair, her eyes a striking icy blue. In short, she was beautiful. And, Feyre noted regretfully as she watched her eyes zero in on Rhysand, interested in that asshole.

Feyre let out an all suffering sigh. ‘Here is to another girl who’s about to get her heart broken,’ she toasted Alis, then took a ravenous sip of her drink.

Alis merely shook her head, an indulgent smile on her face. She was used to Feyre ranting about everything related to Rhysand, be it fact or speculation or merely something she conjured from her imagination.

‘This happens every time,’ Feyre went on. ‘New girl falls for Rhysand. He takes her on a couple dates, has his fun, then dumps her ass. How many more times do I have to watch this scenario unfold? How many more times am I going to sit on my ass while a girl gets her heart broken by the devil?’

Something suddenly occurred to her. To get to Rhysand, Viviane would have to get past her table.

‘But maybe I can do something this time.’

‘Oh, no.’

‘Maybe I can be this nice, sweet girl’s salvation.’

‘Feyre, stop.’

‘Viviane,’ Feyre called, standing on her seat, waving her arms enthusiastically.

Alis covered her face with her hands. ‘You’re embarrassing.’

Feyre paid her no heed. ‘Viviane!’

Viviane looked at her, confused. To be fair, it was their first time talking.

Oh whatever, Feyre thought, heroes never bother introducing themselves.

‘Hi, honey. You’re the transfer girl, right? I’m Feyre. I’m an art major, too. We’ll probably have many classes together. And this is Alis.’

‘Hello,’ Viviane said, nodding shyly to both of them.

‘What do you think of our town so far? I can show you around, if you’d like.’

‘Thank you so much, but I wouldn’t want to be a bother.’

‘Bother? Oh, not at all. Did you know that when I first came here, my family had just gone broke, my sister had run away to someplace, and my other sister had gone sick with shock?’ Feyre was a very chatty drunk-even when she was only slightly buzzed. ‘It was awful. Thank God I met Alis to show me around the town, or else I would’ve wallowed in misery in my dorm room forever.’

Viviane’s eyes had drifted away about halfway through Feyre’s monologue.

‘Viviane?’

She let out a dreamy sigh.

‘Viviane!’

‘Oh yes. Feyre, was it? I’m sorry, it’s just… he’s so hot.’

‘Who?’ Feyre turned around, then back. ‘Oh, you mean Rhysand?’

Viviane nodded, still staring at him with moony eyes.

‘Yeah. It’s amazing how all the hot ones turn out to be gay, right? You should see his boyfriend. He has these gorgeous lashes and - ’

Viviane’s eyes snapped to her. Well, that got her attention. ‘Wait. What did you say?’

Feyre barely managed to hold back her smirk. ‘His boyfriend has - ’

‘You mean he’s gay?’

‘Oh. You didn’t know. Sorry. But I guess better hear it from me than from him, right?’

Viviane had gone very red. Feyre was getting worried. ‘Viviane?’

Suddenly she grabbed Feyre’s glass and chugged it down. Then she grabbed Alis’s glass and chugged it down. Then she started crying.

Feyre looked at Alis.

Alis looked at Feyre. Told you so, her look seemed to say.

What do we do now, said Feyre’s.

Alis shrugged.

They both let out a sigh, then grabbed a shoulder each and welcomed Viviane into their little group.

***

Viviane, it turned out, was an even chattier drunk than Feyre. She was also much more morose. Once the dam had broken, she told them all about being unhappy in her former uni and major, and having trouble to transfer as she was a few years older than them. She had struggled to take the leap and switch to art as, though it had always been her dream, 25 seemed like a bit too old for a beginner artist. This, Alis and Feyre were quick to reassure her, was not at all true. Many people started college at 25 or more, and they knew a middle aged couple in their class who were having the time of their lives exploring their artistic abilities.

‘And Kallias,’ she sobbed, her tears starting anew. ‘I love him and now I will never get to tell him.’

‘Kallias?’

‘My best friend. I’ve been in love with him since I was sixteen, overweight and desperate to grow some self confidence. He went on a diet with me so I wouldn’t feel alone. He picked me up on his way to school for basically all four years of high school because I was too scared to get a license. He always left secret gifts in my locker when he knew I was on my period, or took me to my favorite bakery. And when he found out I wanted to do arts instead of political science, he became my number one supporter. He even mailed my application for me. How was I supposed not to fall for him?’

‘Wow. That’s really sweet.’

‘I know! He’s such a sweet guy. I’m sure his girlfriend agrees,’ she sighed dejectedly.

Alis and Feyre exchanged a panicked look. They simply could not sit through another bout of tears.

‘He has a girlfriend?’

‘Well, not exactly. There is this girl in his class, Adrienne, and they meet up a lot to study.’

At Alis and Feyre’s raised brows, she groaned, rubbing her face with both hands.

‘But you should see them! They might as well be dating. She texts him a lot and he always remembers her birthday, when it usually takes him like five weeks to remember people’s names.’

Feyre was dubious. If anything, Kallias seemed to have feelings for Viviane, not whoever this Adrienne girl was. ‘Okay…’

‘Oh, and she has this nickname for him that’s just ridiculous. Kally Bear. Who the fuck comes up with such a stupid nickname? Actually, no.’ Viviane straightened, composing herself. ‘I shouldn’t act like this. I really like Adrienne. She’s nice and she always asks me to come with them when they hang out.’

Alis shrugged. ‘I don’t see why you mind them being together, since you’re always there too.’

‘Oh, I never actually go with them.’

‘What? » Feyre asked incredulously. ‘Why not?’

‘It’s not like she means it. I’m sure she just invites me to be polite. So I tell them to have a good time and send them on their way.’

‘Viviane,’ Alis started carefully. ‘Are you sure Kallias is even interested in Adrienne?’

Viviane pursed her lips. ‘Pretty sure. One time, we were playing truth or dare and I asked him if there was anyone he liked. He said yes, but he didn’t know how to ask her out. He was afraid she would say no and ruin their friendship.’

‘But that could be any friend of his,’ Alis pointed out, her voice blank and ever so careful, the tone she would use on a deranged animal she didn’t want to spook. Or, in this case, a lovesick drunkard she didn’t want to encourage with false hope.

‘She’s his only female friend. Aside from me, that is.’

Feyre had no such qualms. ‘Could be you, then.’

Viviane’s shoulders slumped. ‘No.’

From the way she finished the rest of her drink in one shot and called for seconds, studiously avoiding eye contact, Feyre guessed the conversation to be over.

‘Gotta go powder my nose,’ she said as she stumbled away to the loo.

Oh, how she loved British expressions.

She chuckled on her way, trying her best not to bump into people, and failing miserably as she collided into a deliciously muscled chest.

‘Archeron.’

She looked up at her nemesis. Oh, she had gotten him well.

She couldn’t stop the smirk that bloomed on her face as she replied, ‘Rhysand, darling.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘Darling? What did you do?’

‘What, so you’re the only one allowed to call me that?’

‘You hate it when I call you that.’

She tapped a finger against her chin. ‘True. But I like it when I call you that. You are such a darling,’ she giggled - actually giggled. ‘Especially when you don’t know what’s coming to you.’

Rhysand’s voice was stern. ‘Feyre.’

‘Feyre? Oh my, what a special day it is when Rhysand Fahrenheit calls me by my given name. Did you run out of sarcastic endearments?’

‘I saw you with the new girl.’

Her smirk grew infinitely wider. ‘Did you, now?’

‘What did you tell her?’

‘Nothing you haven’t heard before, I’m sure.’

‘Feyre.’

‘You can keep gritting your teeth till you choke on their dust, and I won’t tell you.’

He breathed deeply, loudly. Once, twice.

‘I can’t deal with you while I’m still sober.’

‘Then go get yourself a drink. And while you’re at it, maybe get one for your boyfriend, too.’

He froze in the middle of turning around, his violet eyes flashing in the dim light of the bar. Oh, how she longed to paint this moment. The Devil Defeated, she would call it.

‘Wait. What did you say?’

‘Funny. Those are the exact words Viviane said when I told her you were gay. A match made in heaven, the two of you. Too bad it’s never going to happen.’

‘You… what?’

‘Are your ears going bad, Rhysand? Are you already that old?’

He rolled his eyes. ‘I am two years older than you, Feyre. And what. the. fuck?’

‘I wasn’t going to let you break another girl’s heart, was I?’

He tensed, anger swirling in his eyes. A second later, he changed. His tense shoulders slowly loosened. He tucked his hands in his pockets, and tilted his head roguishly. His eyes sparkled with devilish amusement, and his favorite smirk perched on his lips. It was not a noticeable change, not if you didn’t know what to look for. But Feyre was a pro in Rhys metamorphosis, as she liked to call it. She watched it all unfold in less than a heartbeat, trying in vain to catch all the details. Somehow, she could never capture it on canvas. Her paintings never had the same vibe-or enough flair.

‘What business is it of yours, Feyre darling, which hearts I choose to break?’

His sensual voice reminded her of silken sheets and sinful touches, and ironically startled her awake. ‘Unlike you, Rhysand, I do happen to care for the common good.’

His smirk was insufferable. ‘You don’t strike me as a selfless person.’

‘Maybe I should strike you, period.’

He leaned forward. ‘How about we strike a bargain instead, darling. You stay away from my business, and I try not to break your heart next.’

She crept forward as well, unwilling to lose the unspoken game, even as her heart beat a tattoo in her chest. He was so close she could touch him. If she dared.

‘Break my heart, Rhysand. I dare you.’

His breath caressed her own when he spoke next. ‘Is that a challenge?’

She snaked a hand between them and laid it flat on the center of his chest. His heartbeat ricocheted against her palm. She smirked. ‘Is it?’

His pupils flared. She gazed into his eyes for what felt like an eternity, transfixed.

Cauldron, she hated his eyes.

She flipped her hair defiantly as she sauntered off, hips swinging, reveling in the way his eyes trailed her the entire way to the bathroom.

Tag list: @joyceortiz13 @bailey-4244

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