𝒜 𝒞𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝑅𝑒𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒮𝒸𝒶𝓇𝓈 | ᴀᴢʀɪᴇʟ

Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Arwen held a tight grip on Rhysand's wrist as she led them through the quiet street. She and Azriel were almost stone-cold sober by the time they left Rita's. Mor, Cassian and her brother on the other hand... Not trusting herself to winnow them all to the town house in one piece, she succumbed to having to lead him across the city like he was a toddler on a sugar high. Amren had waved them off to return to her apartment. Cassian had gained the proclivity for flying aimlessly. Just a few feet off the ground but his drunken staggers were enough to send warning signals blaring through her mind. Fortunately, Azriel would tug him back down each to earth time. Mor, at least, was easy to deal with and Arwen would certainly be informing Cassian and Rhysand that her cousin held her liquor far better than them.

The sweater fended off the cooled breeze of the late autumn night.

"It's strange seeing you like this."

In wonder of what he meant, Arwen moved her gaze from the road ahead to Rhysand at her right. "Like what?"

He used his unrestrained hand to swipe a finger down the slope of her nose. "Stern-faced." She huffed at his laxed tone—something that always came out on this day of every year. Cassian's birthday certainly was a call for celebration.

"I'm just tired. And you dragging your weight doesn't help."

"I didn't ask you to haul me along like a cart."

"I'm making sure you don't trip over yourself."

"It's not your job to take care of me."

Arwen didn't answer at first. She just kept walking, her 'stern' face deepening into a now settled frown. Slicing her gaze to Azriel between Mor and Cassian, she deduced that he would be fine to handle both of them for a few minutes, and stopped walking, pulling Rhysand to a stop as well. He sighed, looking down at her like he already knew exactly what she was going to say and had an argument prepared. "Do you tell that to everybody?" she asked. He said nothing. "Because if you say that to everybody then there's going to be nobody left to take care of you when you need it."

He tightened his lips inwards. "I'm strong enough to deal with my own burdens."

Arwen felt a burning in her eyes. She hadn't expected it—hadn't felt marginally upset until that very second. Frustrated—yes, just not upset. Perhaps she wasn't as sober as she first assumed. "And you'd prefer that I just didn't try to help you with anything?"

"I'd still be fine without you." The burning spread like a plague through her throat and down into her stomach. Rhysand closed his eyes with a sharp breath. "That's not... I'm in the right mind for this conversation, Ar."

Certainly not if he was calling her that. It sounded like he intended to say her full name then drifted off at the end. "Nevermind it," she muttered, pulling on his wrist again until they matched stride with the others who had moved ahead. Reaching the town house, Mor took herself up to her bedchamber. Cassian assured everybody that he was fine to see himself to bed, his feet thudding up the staircase.

Azriel looked at her. "I'll follow him."

Arwen hummed in agreement. Last time Cassian had drunk as much as he had tonight, he had found himself exploring through her wardrobe, trying to figure out with her nightgown wouldn't fit over his shoulders.

She followed him up with Rhysand still under her control. Before she made it up three steps, a hard yank freed him and her fingers clutched air. Arwen turned back, a bit aghast by the harsh gesture. But Rhysand only replaced her empty palm with his hand. She waited for him to follow, to give in to the slight tension of their muscles.