insubordinate (gwynriel)

6

Two days later, there was a note left on Gwyn's pillow again. Her mouth went dry at the sight. She'd been itching to see Azriel again since they'd had sex. Her body had already started to crave him and she hated feeling like she needed him.

She slowly opened the letter, eyes going wide at what was written there.

Meet me in my room tonight at 9. Wear the silk robe I have placed in your closet and nothing else. Do not be late.

She opened her closet, and sure enough, there was a blush pink silk robe hanging on a hanger, waiting for her. She looked at the clock and swore. She'd gotten off late tonight. It was already 7:30.

"Shit, shit, shit," she repeated as she stumbled around her room. She ran into her bathroom, cranking on the shower, and jumping in before it even warmed. She scrubbed her body, shaving her legs as quickly as she could go. When she cut herself, she screeched in frustration, throwing the razor to the bottom of the shower and watching the blade break off. She was going to lose it.

She toweled herself off, cursing herself for not being more careful as blood trailed down her leg from the cut. She applied mascara and lip balm, blowing her hair dry as fast as possible. She tried her best to look hot and appealing, but all this rushing had her head spinning. Surely, he wouldn't be angry if she was late because she was held up at work?

She pulled on a new underwear and bra set she'd been psyched to wear, anticipating Azriel's reaction. She pulled the robe on over them, tying it securely. She slipped on sandals. She looked herself over in the mirror, agitated that she couldn't take her time to be ready. She sprayed on her vanilla perfume and bounded towards the door, tossing a look back over her shoulders to the clock on her nightstand.

The time read 8:59 pm. Fuck.

She bounded up the stairs and into the House of Wind, walking as quickly as she could to Azriel's door. She paused for a moment outside, catching her breath and fixing her hair. She took a deep breath and knocked. No response came from inside. Had he forgotten?

More than agitated at this point, she knocked again, getting irritable about the way the silk felt on her bare and still-damp skin. Fucking asshole told her not to be late, and where was he? With a growl, she opened his door. She squinted as she noticed the room was entirely devoid of life and light. She couldn't see shit.

She fumbled for the light switch along the wall, fingers searching the darkness. Where the fuck was he? And where was the damn light switch? A lamp turned on behind her, making her nearly jump out of her skin. Her hand flew to her heart as she gasped.

Azriel sat in his armchair, a glass of bourbon in his crystalline glass. He swirled the brown liquid in the bottom of the glass before draining it. His white button-down was unbuttoned halfway down his chest but still tucked into his black dress pants.

"You're late," he said. Her heart skipped and her breath felt lost in her throat.

"Merrill had me in the library late and I-"

"Did I ask you for an excuse?" He raised a brow at her. Her words died in her throat, and she snapped her mouth shut. She swallowed harshly, not knowing what to do with her body or her hands.

"No," she answered softly, voice cracking slightly.

"So why did you give me one?" He refilled his bourbon glass, this time much higher. He was in a mood. Gwyn chewed her lip.

"Well, I just wanted to let you know-"

"Are you giving me another one?" She chose not to answer, keeping her mouth shut. He looked her over with a dazed expression. He wasn't very affectionate tonight. Most certainly not like he had been the last couple of times.