Azriel relied on the light of the day to save him from the darkness. To keep him from the shadows and scars that haunted his nightmares.
Tahlia relied on the darkness to save her from the light. By keeping to the shadows, she can protect her future...
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It was a gruesome sentence.
Yet somehow... somehow something inside him sparked to life
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Azriel still felt a spell of numbness as he descended into the grande hall, thoughts errant enough that his feet instinctually led him to the table covered in all sorts of wines and ales. There was one barrel with an imprint of a sun, that he shivered at, knowing to steer clear of. It wouldn't bring anything but trouble, he knew, and he hoped that his friends were wise enough to know it too.
He eyed their glass goblets individually. Amren's was almost dredged, a burgundy shade that hinted towards the kind that was imported from the far east of the continent. The expensive stuff, of course. He expected no less of the new-fae. It was a peculiar taste, so he'd be avoiding that one, too.
Cassian's was a dark hue, an almost black he presumed was Kallias' favourite, the one that had always had his tongue come loose. Azriel turned his nose up at the bottle and looked back towards where Cassian lingered, knowingly he presumed, with his back almost touching Nesta's as he chatted with a general from another court. The drink might've had him spilling his secrets, but it seemed to make Cassian, not bold, confident in himself. Azriel watched closely as Cassian's free hand fell to his side, brushing gently against Nesta's knuckles. Azriel expected her to snap away, to recoil as she often did. Instead, she seemed to lean into the touch, her own fingers stretching out towards his. Her goblet was half-full of the same hue.
"I'd personally recommend this bottle." Came a voice from beside him, and he turned slowly towards the voice, a smile on his face. "If you're struggling to choose." She was teasing him, he knew, because she was gesturing to the very bottle he'd told Cassian, and Rhys, not to touch. They hadn't listened, but he'd warned them none-the-less. "I've heard your friend's are quite fond of it."
"And the headaches that came with it I'm sure-" He stopped short, the words being lost somewhere in his mind as it twisted and lost all trains of thought except the brilliant blue gown that Tahlia donned. It wasn't light blue like the sky in the Day Court, nor was it the deep turquoise of the rivers that flowed through it. Azriel tried, he really did, not to think of how much the colour was a replica of the shade of his syphons.
Tahlia watched him too, for a moment, and something inside him bloomed bright and proud at the blush that crept across her cheeks the longer, and further she looked. Her chestnut eyes paused for a moment when they reached his chest. His tie he realised, and he looked away from her intent stare, bashfully. "Purple?" Azriel didn't dare answer, hells, he barely dared to even breathe until she reached for his hand. He instinctively took a step back, catching a wave of what looked like embarrassment flash across her face before she schooled it into a smile. "I like purple." She nodded. "And it certainly looks good on you."
