Feysand oneshots and short stories

Waitress Chapter 8

Feyre's POV

'Are you making me leave?'

My heart thudded in my chest as anticipation clawed it's way into my nerves. I was terrified and could only await my sentence.

'I would nerve make you leave, you belong here, with m-' he cut himself off, 'with my court.'

Relief let me breathe in air, the sweet citrus air of Velaris and the salt from the sea. I breathed it in now and I would breathe it in a thousand times over. I was to stay.

'Thank you.' I said, my voice soft as the wind that tickled his hair as the breeze drifted past.

<<<<>>>>

Rhys's Perspective

Lunch had been a disaster. Rhys was a bumbling idiot who couldn't put two words together without stumbling over his words, but the more that they talked, the more Feyre's personality seemed to shine through her shyness, until she no longer hid under the scared little girl that she pretended she was.

And as Rhys walked home, even though his cockiness was somewhat ripped apart from her relentless comments, his heart sang and through the rips and tears, it glowed, and he couldn't control the smile that creeped onto his features.

<<<<>>>>

Morrigan slipped out of the house before her cousin could return. Tonight they were having another courtly meeting, or as Rhysand liked put it, Family Dinner.

As she walked through velaris she saw Rhys nervously cross the street, and she slipped into the crown unnoticed as she observed him. He had his hands behind his back as he wrung them together. He met with Feyre, the waitress from last night, in the middle of the street and directed her back the way that he came from. Mor smirked as she could already begin to guess what was going on.

Mor turned her back and walked away. respecting her cousin's privacy.

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