"You shouldn't have saved me, Aziel."
"I had to, Nymiria. There was not a chance in hell that I was leaving without you."
“Why did you do that for someone you didn't know?”
Aziel shook his head, his lips twitching as he tried to formulate the words to say. “No one needs a reason to do the right thing.” He stated simply. “I believe that people should pay for their crimes. And taking something and ripping away their innocence… it is akin to ripping the petals off of a flower and expecting it to still bloom. It is the greatest sin, the greatest crime of all.”
His words settled into the tension between them, twisting around her heart like jagged thorns. Because she’d never been able to explain exactly how she felt—how her life felt since that night that he found her:
A flower without petals.
“Flowers are resilient, though.” He continued. She could feel his eyes on her, watching as she thoughtfully fidgeted with her hands. “But they have to die in order to come back whole again.”
“Do you believe that a flower that dies comes back as the very same flower?”
“No.” Aziel shook his head. “I believe that they come back stronger. A newer, angrier version of the thing they were before. Their roots are stronger, too. Instead of merely clinging to the earth for nutrients, the roots start to twist and turn and dig into the soil—demanding what they require, rather than being too afraid to ask for it.”
He wanted to touch her. He wanted to slide the leather shackles off his fingers and trace over every part of her skin that ached and burned with the pain of her past. He wanted her to peel off her clothes, lay herself bare before him, and show him all of the places that he could heal—the darkened parts of her soul that he could decorate with his silver drop of comfort.
There was nothing else he could have done to help her at fifteen. He was a child. Aziel never wanted to leave her. He had every intention of staying by her side, but when Camalia saw the way young Aziel looked at the Mystic, she forced Dorid to send him away immediately. They made him kill people like her—people likehimas punishment.
If he'd known the truth of his powers at fifteen, none of this would have had to happen. He would have killed them all and taken Nymiria as far away from this hell as he possibly could. Aziel had been killed many times—parts of himself murdered and gutted—but he'd been reborn into this version of himself who was unafraid and willing to go to unfathomable ends to keep her safe.
“I don't want you to see me as someone who deserves pity." He confessed, finally breaking the silence. "None of what has happened was your fault. We were children. Both of us. The decision I made is not one for you to carry around with you for the rest of your life. We cannot change what has happened, but we can at least make sure that it doesn't happen again. The world is changing, Nymiria. And all those who live in darkness will be faced with their reckoning soon enough." His fingers curled around a lock of her hair, letting the silken strands slip through his loose grip.
"It could never change the way I look at you." His eyes moved to hers immediately, his body going rigid as she moved beside him. Nymiria wanted him to understand. She wanted him to see that what she felt was the same thing he felt for her. She knew that he was capable. She didn't see him as weak, but they were both trapped in a reality that they could not escape alone.
Aziel slowly pulled his hand from his glove, letting his bare fingers braid through her own. "What is it that you see when you look at me, moonflower?"
She smirked, that mischievous gleam in her eyes returning. "A fuckinggod."
Both of them let out a huff of weak laughter, but the darkened mood had finally been lifted, both of them watching one another and wishing to touch—tofeel. It was one thing to hold something, but it was another to appreciate it. And while everything about him and their circumstances scared the life out of her, Nymiria wanted to appreciate him. What Desi said in Eadyn, how she shouldn't let the fear of losing something keep her from opening her heart again…
Nymiria wanted to believe that it was possible.
"I do believe that Teigh and Greia must have been drunk out of their minds when they chose us." She muttered. "I don't think any of your sweet words could change my mind on that part. You are an absolute menace and I am emotionally stunted."
"Whoever said that the gods needed to be perfect?" Aziel laughed. "I spent time with Teigh and I can assure you that he was just as much of a menace as I am, if not more. And Greia… well, I don't think she was very fond of me."
Nymiria smirked, nudging him with her elbow. "Another thing she and I have in common."
Aziel turned to her, lips curling into a smirk as he leaned closer to her. "I'd say that the way you sucked my cock says otherwise."
She should have been appalled by what he said, but her whole body seemed to catch fire, her stomach swirling dangerously. "I wouldn't be celebrating too much—I now know how to coax vital information out of you because of that." She stilled. "Speaking of which. Those piercings of yours… what do they mean?"
He was silent for a moment, one hand tracing over the other. "It's a custom in fae culture. Mated males get them as a show of… pride, I suppose."
"Seems rather barbaric." Nymiria chewed at her lip, eyes dipping to the front of his pants. It was shameless, but she didn't really care. It was just them here. "Do you wear them all the time?"
"Now, I do. Before, I would take them out. If I was going to…you know."
"Fuck someone?"
"Gods, Nymiria." He chuckled. "Yes. You're the only one who knows about them. Aside from a few unlucky patrons at a pub who had to watch me piss into a pitcher of ale a few years back."
She jolted forwards, eyes wide. "What?"
"A story for another time."
