Flames of Cobalt and Crimson

Revelations

Cassian

The next morning, after breakfast, I led Azriel into his new bedroom. Despite the fact that this had been a surprise that was meant for me, he was now the one who hadn't yet seen his own redecorated space. I knew he was aware of the irony. Unlike me, however, he had chosen some - or maybe all - of the new textiles and furniture. His gaze was appreciative, but a bit less awestruck than I'm sure mine had been. Fortunately, I hadn't had witnesses.

I admired the way the faelights shone upon the ebony silk of his shaggy hair; the flex and shift of his strong body beneath casual clothes much less concealing than our leathers. He made a slow circuit of the room, and his fingers occasionally flitted out to acknowledge something new. A slight brush of the back of his hand against the dresser, a light stroke across the glossy bedside tabletop, the tips of his fingers running along the lower edge of a tapestry.

I was entranced by his motions. After all this time, I was bearing witness to a tiny piece of him I'd never seen before. In a room full of unfamiliar-yet-welcome accoutrements, he experienced the novelty with soft caresses. I found myself wondering, for the very first time, what the textures felt like to him beneath his scars. Was his sense of touch different than mine? Would the repeated, horrific burns have rendered his hands less sensitive... or more?

In that moment, with my Heart brushing the woven art on the wall, I registered the image for the first time. It was Enalius, bloodied and wounded and holding the Pass just below the peak of Ramiel. Looking quite a lot like me. My stomach flipped.

He lingered at the side of the bed, staring down at it and smoothing his hand over the deep black of the comforter. I wished - not for the first time - that I knew what he was thinking. I rounded to the other side of the bed, climbing on to sit against the pillows, and I patted the space between us in invitation.

"Let's talk, Az." He'd watched me get settled on the bed with quiet curiosity, but now his gaze turned wary and it made my stomach dip unpleasantly. He only hesitated a moment before climbing onto the bed beside me, tucking his wings loosely against his back as I had, and leaning against the pillows. He stared straight ahead, though, not looking at me.

I reached over and took his hand, lacing my fingers between his and squeezing gently until he turned his face toward me. Anxiety pulsed in the bond, and I sent soothing reassurance even as I tried to sort out why his feelings had suddenly shifted. He searched my eyes intently, and spoke before I'd decided what I planned to say first.

"Are you about to apologize for yesterday and say we shouldn't have done that?"

"What? No!" His question was so far outside my own realm of thought that it took me a moment to orient myself in this new direction. I was about to ask him why he would think that, but for once my brain caught up to my mouth and I realized he was remembering the Day Court kissing fiasco. That seemed like weeks ago; hell it seemed like years ago - though it had only been a few days - but with Azriel having been unconscious, it was probably a bit more immediate in his mind.

He relaxed a fraction at my obvious surprise, but his eyes darted away again and I wanted his attention on me. I maintained my grip on his hand as I shifted, not wanting to lose the connection to him, turning my body to face him and crossing my legs. There was no easy way for Az to avoid eye contact now, but I'd shed all my defenses yesterday, in his arms, and if my soul was to be bare for this conversation then damn it, he could shed a few of his.

"I want to talk about the future, and us... and sex." I watched as Azriel's jaw ticked and he looked away again, and I wondered what, exactly, it would take to convince this beautiful male that he was enough, and that I wasn't going anywhere. In his defense, I hadn't been doing a good job so far. But still. I wanted to spend the rest of my immortal life trying. Not wanting to give him a chance to spiral out, I bluntly plowed ahead.