ACOTAR one shots, imagines and short stories

The Vanishing Vow (Azriel x OC)

Word count: 5392

Characters: Azriel x Elara (OC)

Warnings: Serious angst (I cried writing this)

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The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, bathing the room in a warm, golden glow. Elara lay beneath the sheets, her body wrapped in the warmth of Azriel's embrace. His head remained rested against her chest, his face nuzzling closer to her as if savouring the feel of her heartbeat beneath his ear. His eyes were half-closed, caught between wakefulness and a rare, blissful calm. Elara's fingers continued to move through his dark curls, her touch gentle, soothing, as though the world outside this bed couldn't touch them. Not here, not now.

She watched him in the quiet of the morning, the way his muscles relaxed against her, the way his finger traced lazy circles along her waist, as if trying to memorise the shape of her, to commit her to memory for the long hours of separation to come.  His touch feather-light as if savouring every inch of her skin. His thumb brushed over her ribs, his movements slow and reverent, a quiet worship of the woman who had become his peace, his home. The world outside their window felt distant, the looming responsibilities momentarily forgotten.

There was something so vulnerable about the way he clung to her in these moments, something unspoken in the way his body curled into hers, seeking the comfort only she could offer.

Their hands met between them, fingers intertwining before they both let their fingertips graze over the matching tattoo that adorned their hands—a mark of their eternal bond. A vow far deeper than any ceremony, any title. The ink of their bargain, swirling and dark, had long ago imprinted itself on their skin, a promise forged in love and devotion. Elara traced the lines with her fingertip, feeling the slight warmth beneath his skin.

"Do you ever regret it?" Azriel's voice was a whisper, breaking the quiet.

Elara blinked, surprised by the question, and she looked down at him, her thumb still brushing the edge of their shared mark. "Never," she replied softly, her heart aching at the thought. "It's the most meaningful thing I've ever done."

A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, though his eyes remained closed, contentment settling into the fine lines of his face. "Good," he murmured, "because I would do it again in a heartbeat."

Elara leaned down and kissed the top of his head, the scent of his hair filling her senses. He smelled like wind and shadows, like the night air that followed him wherever he went. "I know you would," she whispered against him.

Their hands continued to explore the inked patterns, and as their fingers intertwined over the tattoos, a familiar heat sparked between them. Elara's breath caught when Azriel shifted, tilting his head up to look at her, his hazel eyes dark and full of longing. He moved slowly, deliberately, until his lips brushed hers once again. The kiss was soft, at first, a quiet exchange of affection, a promise that echoed in the silence around them.

She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his in a gentle kiss, soft and tentative at first. It was tender, a slow melding of lips that spoke of contentment, of shared mornings and stolen moments like these. But as the seconds ticked by, the kiss deepened, the tenderness giving way to something more urgent, more passionate. His hand moved to cup her face, pulling her closer, his thumb brushing over her cheek. Elara melted into him, her fingers tangling in his hair as he pressed his body against hers, his mouth claiming hers with a slow, deliberate passion.

The room seemed to fade away as they lost themselves in the kiss, in the familiar dance of lips and tongues. Azriel's grip tightened on her waist, his body pressing against her in a way that made her pulse quicken. There was an urgency in the way he kissed her, as if he was trying to make up for all the moments they would soon lose to duty and distance.