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as he moves away from her, nesta's heart continues to THUD with each measure step. she observes azriel's graceful movements as he makes his way back to his seat, as if nothing happened, and a new ache sets in. it crawls it's way up from her chest and settles into her teeth. she sucks her cheeks in, biting down on the flesh to as a momentary distraction.

of course he's right. she knows that she did it in part because she was seeking out something similar to the kind of relief she'd once found in taverns with other males. but this wasn't entirely the same. she was also seeking out safety - connection. she and azriel had created a quiet understanding of one another over the past few months, she thought, and his words seemed to confirm that.

so she didn't apologise again. but a question formed in her mind. did he enjoy their kiss (too short) as much as she had?

although she's tempted to stay just where she is, to give him the opportunity to return to that spot at her feet, she lifts her seat and returns it to it's original place. her keen gaze darts from his and she watches his hands as he picks up his fork and mirrors his actions, lifting her glass to her lips (where she can taste him still) just as carefully. she wonders if he was trained as she was - to always be on his best behaviour.

nesta is hardly meek - the thought makes her smile ever so slightly. but she supposes her response to what she's just done; the line she's just crossed, could be interpreted that way. what she is, is confused. for a brief moment she'd expected for him to be annoyed with her. she was so good at getting a rise out of everyone around her, with her reckless actions and crafted words. but not him.

"and what do you want, azriel?" it's a loaded question, and she's certain he must understand what she means. she has seen the care he has taken with her sisters. with all of them, but especially with elain. it's part of what has sparked her attraction to him - his unfaltering kindness to the person she loves the most.

it occurs to her just how twisted that may be, but she watches his features intently for an answer he may not give. "there must be plenty you want."

nesta wasn't alright. she wasn't alright at all and she could barely recall the last time she had been. but when azriel began to approach her she felt an unusual shift in her spirit; followed by a surprising shift of her seat. the sudden movement, along with the serious, unyielding, look in his bronze eyes took her breath away - so much so that the lack of oxygen stole all the thoughts from her brain.

before she could find it in herself to just think, instinct kicked in and nesta closed the short distance between them, capturing his plush lips with her own. he really was the prettiest of the brothers, and she often found herself captivated by him - but never to this extent before.

in this moment of weakness she found herself unable to resist him; to resist the possibility of closeness and understanding that she so craved. instinctually, yet carefully, her fingertips travel from his jaw to the nape of his neck. she twines her fingers into his surprisingly silky hair, and becomes acutely aware of his breath as it mingles with her own in the same way his shadows merge with his surroundings.

with a sigh she manages to pull away - only slightly. the tip of her nose rests gently against his cheek and she keeps her eyes closed, nervous to discover his reaction.

"you won't tell anyone i did that -" it should be a statement. despite herself she has always found it easy to trust him; to find solace in the fact that he seems to be even more secretive than she is. but nerves turn it into a question. "will you?"

seconds pass. they feel like minutes. nesta becomes painfully aware of the way her heart pounds in the silence.

THUD, THUD, THUD.

it's the first time her new fae ears have honed in on just one noise. she finds herself opening her eyes to see that azriel's are closed. nesta purses her lips together and tries not to think about how his felt against hers. instead she finds herself fascinated by the shadows his eyelashes cast against his cheek. usually he's so alert - she's not entirely certain she's ever seen him blink - but with his eyes closed he seems younger somehow. softer than she is... despite what she knows about the role he plays in the night court.

guilt creeps in and she sits back in her chair, as far as she can despite being comfortably trapped by his strong frame.

"i'm sorry, i don't know why i -" a sigh. she licks her lower lip. bites it until it throbs with blood. "i shouldn't have been so forward." she nods decidedly, as if she's certain she's figured out what she suddenly feels so self conscious about her actions. as if it will stop her from repeating them.