ACOTAR one shots, imagines and short stories

The Art of Moving On (Azriel x OC) - Part 5

Word count: 4416

Characters: Azriel and Elara (OC)

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Elara slipped quietly into her bedchamber, the soft murmur of activity from the bustling corridors of the palace a distant backdrop. Her mind was preoccupied with the upcoming ball and the myriad tasks that had occupied her thoughts all day. As she closed the door behind her, a sudden flash of colour caught her eye.

On her bed, nestled amongst the sheets, lay an exquisite gown that seemed to shimmer with its own inner light. It was a deep, velvety blue, reminiscent of the colour of Azriel's syphons, and it looked as though it had been spun from the night sky itself. The dress was both striking and delicate, with a fitted bodice that was adorned with intricate beadwork that caught the light with every subtle movement. The skirt billowed out from the waist in layers of sheer, flowing fabric that seemed to dance on its own.

Elara's breath caught in her throat. She had initially planned on wearing an old gown or perhaps borrowing one from Mor. But this dress was beyond anything she had imagined. There was no note attached, no clue as to who had given her such a beautiful garment. Her first thought was that it might be a gift from Feyre, a gesture of gratitude for her assistance with the summit preparations.

Then her gaze fell on a single, fresh tulip pinned delicately to the bodice of the dress. It was a simple touch, but it made Elara's heart skip a beat. The tulip—and the dress—were unmistakably from Azriel. It was a poignant gesture that spoke volumes more than words ever could.

Elara gently touched the tulip, her mind racing with the realisation of how much this gift must have cost. The dress was exquisite, and the thought of Azriel going through the trouble to have it made for her, without her even knowing when he had managed to do so, was both overwhelming and deeply touching.

Her reverie was interrupted by the sound of a knock on the door, followed by Mor's cheerful voice calling out, "Elara, are you ready?"

Elara quickly composed herself and opened the door to find Mor standing there. Mor's eyes widened with delight as they fell on the gown.

"Oh, wow," Mor breathed, stepping inside and immediately marvelling at the gown. "That is one stunning dress. Where did you get it? I must know who the seamstress is. The craftsmanship is exquisite. I've got to have one made for myself!""

"I don't know. It's a gift," Elara replied.

"A gift? A gift from who?" Mor asked, her curiosity piqued.

Elara hesitated, her cheeks flushing slightly as she pointed to the tulip. "Azriel."

Mor's eyes widened in surprise and delight. "Azriel?" Grinning, she added playfully, "Who knew Azriel had such fine taste in dresses? I always thought his style was more... practical."

Elara looked down at the dress, her brow furrowing with curiosity. "But why would he get me a dress?"

Mor's expression softened as she placed a comforting hand on Elara's shoulder. "Words don't always come easily to Azriel. This is his way of showing that he cares. It's not just a dress; it's his way of telling you he values you and wants you to feel special."

As she spoke, Mor began helping Elara prepare, she styled her hair into soft, cascading waves that framed her face with grace. The makeup was expertly applied to enhance Elara's natural beauty: her cheekbones were highlighted with a radiant glow, her eyes were framed with defined lashes for added allure, and a soft, rosy hue on her lips added a touch of freshness.