Unreal, Unearthed | Azriel x reader

Chapter II.

Sunlight as it pierces through the window, dappling, the walls and floorboards a honey colour. As the dust seems to settle in the stagnant air, you rise to your feet and begin gathering a few of your belongings from the house. Looking at Cassian as he begins to gather things you might want to take. A few books he remembered you reading. Something of your mothers.

He looks somehow innocent in this light, unmarred by the scars of war and the price of battles lost does not seem to weigh as heavy on him in the light of the morning. It's comforting to see him like way, domestic and at peace, something you were perhaps too young to witness the first time around.

The Cassian of your youth had been a boy forged by pain; his young life had not been kind to him and he had fought tooth and nail to survive. But now, in this light, you see that the years have hardened him but they have also taught him that not every day need be a war, and that he wears peace very well.

He looks tired though.

His mind raced long into the evening with burning questions. You think maybe these are things best left unanswered.

Not that you have the answers yourself.

Now it is your turn to ask him about home; He says that much has changed, he has a mate now and wants to settle down.

Rhysand too. He has been through Hel and yet is content with a Mate and a child of his own now.

You seem to dance around the topic of Azriel for one reason or another.

With the knowledge that your return threatens to tear apart the life your family has built, going home seems different now. You still hunger for it, to burrow into the warmth of your brothers embrace and never leave, but there is a part of you; self-sacrificing and destructive that thinks you should stay here, in the quiet of the woods, and let time slip through your fingers like water until your memory falls into obscurity.

But now that Cassian has you in his sights it becomes clear that it is too late for sacrifice now. No, he will take you home to be where you belong with people who love you.

Loved you.

People who held your cold body in their arms and cried for you.

And now you are a ghost, come back to haunt them.

Cassian clears his throat as he drags himself from his makeshift sleeping bag on the floor, alerting you to his presence behind you.

"We should get going soon, it's a long way back home." he says, taking your arm in his strong grip as if willing you to face him.

"Do you think it's a good idea?," you ask.

"It's been a long time, what if they don't remember me? What if they don't want me?"

Cassian only smiles a little then, it's lazy and filled with fondness that claws at your heart in the most painful way.

"It is true, you look a little different," he starts gesturing to your face, his finger tracing a small white scar on the soft flesh of your cheek, "but you're still you, still family, still loved– that has never changed".

The words settle in the stale air as he clears his throat again and puts some distance between you now.

"I suppose," you say, collecting a few small keepsakes into a small bag, "you look different too,"

Cassian stands to attention at that; his shoulders tensing as he corrects his posture, his sculpted arms flexing a little as he poses in the cracked mirror hanging above the fireplace.

"You think?" he asks, his eyes glinting with devilment, "I don't think I've aged a day." he says, a finger running along the contours of his chin and jaw for effect.