The Fawn and Her Fox

Trying

        The sun filters in through the floor to ceiling windows of my old room, the curtains doing little to stop the sun from shining into my eyes. My eyes flutter open and my body is warm and... snuggled right up against Lucien. His face is relaxed in sleep, the sun kissing him. He was made for the sun. His tan skin glows in the suns rays and his hair catches fire in the light. My breath catches at the sight of his beauty. 

        I never thought I would be here. Not in bed, in his arms. Yet, now that I am here, I don't want to be anywhere else. I brush my fingertips across his cheek and his arm tightens around my waist at the feather-light touch. I trace the harsh lines of his scar, skimming over his metal eye delicately. His eyes snap open and stare into mine, but he doesn't stop me. I continue my exploration, tracing the exquisite lines of his face: jaw, cheekbone, nose, brow, then down his throat and over his collarbone. 

        His body becomes infinitely more still and I lean down and brush my lips along his throat, pressing a kiss along the very center, dragging my lips to the hollow of his throat, then collarbones. Lucien's grip on my hips tighten and I pull away to rest my head on his shoulder, nerves making me shy. 

        Lucien doesn't seem to mind the shift in affection and instead envelopes me in his arms. "So, what are we doing?"

        I know without him explaining what he means. What are we doing? I know I don't want to go back to how things were. I don't want to go back to avoiding his existence or to denying that want inside me. Drawing circles on his chest with my finger, I look up at him hesitantly. "What do you want to do?" I ask.

        "It's up to you, Elain. You decide what we do here." 

        "You said in the tree house you wanted us to both be ready. That includes you as well," I say. 

        His hand shifts, stroking my hair back away from my face. "I want you," he whispers. 

        The words are the sweetest music to my ears, and there is no stopping the smile the tugs at my lips. "I want you."

        His smile lights up the room and his hand intertwines in the strands of my hair, pulling my face towards his. The kiss is just as magical as the first. His lips locked with mine, adding the softest of pressure, his body radiating warmth into me. His lips move slowly against mine and I follow the rhythm with ease. He sucks my lower lip into his mouth softly and the pressure is so sweet it melts me against him. 

        I slide my hands over his shirt, the muscles in his back quivering, just the feeling makes my body heat and my heart start to pound faster. My leg slides over his hip and I press closer to him, twining my own fingers in his hair, as he slowly teases his tongue in my mouth. The first slide of his tongue against mine has my blood boiling. 

        His hand drifts over my leg and when his hand brushes along my bare calf, my body flushes and I yank away, heart stuttering and pounding all the faster, the desire in me multiplied tenfold after feeling the scratch of his callouses against my bare leg. Last night I felt it on the skin of my back, exposed by the dress, now I have felt it on my leg. The sensation is almost too good to bare. 

        When I finally meet his gaze, there is no judgement there as his hand glides through my hair. "I'm sorry, I have never... done anything like this." I gesture between the two of us and our disheveled state. 

        He touches my cheek and leans up to brush a soft kiss along my lips. "We have all the time in the world, Elain." 

-~-

        No one says a word when Lucien and I come into the dining room together, sitting side by side. Feyre's blue-grey eyes widen as they hop from me to Lucien and Rhysand's eyes snap to hers. I shift uncomfortably, the attention on me making me antsy. Lucien's hand brushes my own gently and when I look at him my body eases and and gives me a full grin, winking at me. A flush sweeps across my cheeks and neck and I look away, piling food onto my plate, my knee brushing against his beneath the table.

        "What did you think of the celebration, Lucien? You've lived in two prior courts during this time, how does it compare?" Rhysand's voice is casual, but it's obvious this is not the question heavy on his mind. Him and Feyre have been gone up until yesterday so of course it would seem like a complete change in how we interact with each other. 

        Lucien pauses, looking up at Rhysand. "It can't compare. At the Autumn court they do nothing, Beron couldn't care less about Nynsar. The Spring Court celebrations are lively but nothing can compare to the awe I felt seeing those stars. They can be viewed nowhere else and they are truly spectacular." The earnest in his voice warms me and I tuck my face into my cup of water to hide my smile.

        Rhysand nods. "I am glad you think so and that you both enjoyed the festivities." 

        Throughout breakfast eyes linger on me. Previous to their departure I wanted almost nothing to do with Lucien. Even when I wanted nothing to do with him I have felt a pull towards him. That day he left I wanted to stop him, took that one step towards him. Would things be different if he had seen that? Nevertheless, we are here now. 

        Once breakfast is done Feyre and Rhysand bring us back to the townhouse, leaving us to our own devices. When we are alone, I lean over the short distance between us on the couch and press my lips against his cheek. "They didn't even know what to do about us," I tease. 

        He chuckles, turning to capture my mouth in his. "I could practically hear them using the bond to talk about us." 

        I giggle, pressing against him as his lips work mine leisurely, warm hand sliding up the outside of my thigh, sending my body up in flames, his body starts to come over mine, lowering my back to the couch. My hands slide into his hair, their new home in his silky soft strands, tickling my skin. Just as his tongue sweeps into my mouth, hand brushing along my bare calf, the door swings open. 

        The breath is ripped from me and Lucien practically flies off of me and I shoot up from my laying position. Feyre's eyes light up and Rhysand smirks as they look between us. She grabs him by the hand, leading them upstairs. "Don't let us interrupt." They hurry upstairs towards the study and close the door. 

        For a few minutes we say nothing and when Lucien and I finally look at each other, we burst into a fit of laughter. "I think I should find my own place so we can have privacy." He chuckles. 

        I scoot over to his side, twining my fingers into the soft length of his hair. "Would I be invited over?" I ask with a small smile. 

        His russet eye bores into me, the gold one clicking and whirling. "Always, my love."

        The endearment sends tiny thrills over my body and I press a chaste kiss to his lips. "Then I suggest you get to it." 

        He shakes his head. "I do believe I need help, Lady Elain," he says with mock seriousness. 

        "Oh I am not sure, Lord Lucien. I don't know much about houses." 

        He scoffs. "Nonsense, you're a merchants daughter, you must have an eye for luxury." 

        I pretend to consider, tapping a finger to my lips. "I do suppose you're right." 

        He scoops me off the couch and I squeal as he carries me out of the townhouse into the bright vibrant city of Velaris. 

        House hunting is much more fun than I thought it would be. We look at a range of manors, estates, apartments but what really catches his eye is a townhouse near the Sidra. With a backyard.... that is full of greenery. The garden is much bigger than Rhysand's my heart soars at the sight, the house is even close to an amphitheater. 

        Lucien turns to me a full smile on those lush lips. "This is the one." 

        Something inside me tightens at the look in his eye and his words. This is the one. The one for not just him, but me too. This is for us. Whenever I decide that I want to live with him... Live with him. The idea should sound preposterous but ever since the night at the tree house I haven't been able to think of anything except him and living with him? That doesn't sound preposterous at all. 

        So I look up at him, wrapping my arms around his neck, brushing my lips over his, standing on my tiptoes. "This is the one." He's the one.