A few hours later, after a few more glasses of wine, Gwyn was snoring softly on the couch, cuddled up into a throw blanket I placed over her. I smiled and started picking things up around the apartment, that was the most fun I can remember having in a long time. Just time to be free, to relax, to focus on normal girl problems.
As I was loading a stack of dishes in the sink, my senses went on alert.
Tap tap tap.
I heard a soft tapping coming from the terrace doors. I looked over at the clock on the wall that read 3:33 A.M. I grabbed my dagger off of my desk and held it firmly in my grip. I slowly edged towards the terrace doors. Gripping the door handle, I swung the door wide, holding my dagger up ready to strike. As the door opened a small pebble pounded the centre of my forehead. I hissed and rubbed the spot the stone struck. Looking around at the large terrace, cloaked in shadow. There was no one there. I sniffed; the scent of cloves hung on the air. I rolled my eyes and leaned over the edge of the terrace.
"Alas! Fair maiden! Your beauty enraptures me. Allow me to bask in your presence." Raynes voice lilted up as he stood there with his hand raised, as if a Romeo in search of his Juliet. I scoffed and pointed to the bump that now resided on my forehead.
"What are you doing? Attacking me with rocks in the middle of the night?" I whisper-shouted at him. Careful to keep my volume under control. He had the decency to blush and he shifted so he was standing regularly.
"Can I come up? I want to talk." He sounded serious, a rare state for him to be in. I sighed and looked around the yard, there was no one in sight.
"I don't think you'll get past my mother at the door." I said truthfully. I'm not sure I could explain why it was necessary to have a man come to my rooms in the middle of the night.
Rayne nodded and closed his eyes for a second, concentrating. When they snapped open, they glowed as if they had a fire within them. His figure grew darker, and he appeared to dissolve into a mist, black particles crept along the shadows along the terrace pillars, and reformed into Rayne, standing a few feet before me. I crossed my arms over my chest in my oversized sweater and stepped closer to him. Sniffing for the tell-tale hint of alcohol on his breath. Nothing. He looked at me intensely, his eyes clear. He wore a black T-shirt that stretched taught across his chest, a black zip up hoodie, and dark black jeans. His auburn locks hung in his eyes.
"Is everything alright?" I asked. His normal jovial manner was gone. He dug into his jean pocket and pulled out a pack of cloves. He pulled one out. I sighed.
"Why do you do that? It's a disgusting habit." I gestured to the smoke in his hand. He looked at it carefully, twisted it in his grip. Suddenly he looked determined and put the cigarette away, shoving the pack back into his pocket.
"I feel like it's something I can control. Whether or not I do it. Maybe its rebellion; it's an escape." He trailed off. I stood across from him and perched on the railing of the terrace, I stared up at the brilliant moon that shone down on us.
"I understand feeling trapped. Like every decision in your life has already been made for you." I answered. Returning my gaze to him, he was staring at my face wistfully. My head was still slightly buzzing from the wine. I felt warm and comfortable. He took off his jacket and placed it around my shoulders.
"Thank you." I said graciously. He nodded his head. He bit his lower lip and stared out at the vast forestland surrounding us.
"I never wanted to be king." He started. "I went to school amongst the humans, hoping I could escape my family and court. I was only three when my father took the throne, with his army of ice and shadows. Mother died during the uprising. Growing up, I felt the resentment of the Fae people, I felt the hatred and the malice he infused into the land. I wanted no part in his legacy." He rambled, staring up at the stars. I placed my hand on his arm to give comfort. "He took what he wanted, became self indulgent in royal spoils and pleasure. He married Ravenna when I was eight."
"It must have been hard, growing up under that lens." I stated. He nodded and clenched his fists. He looked down at the ground.
"I always thought my father might have had something to do with Mother's death. And now...how he's treating the people...It makes me want to step up, to do better than him." He sighed. I squeezed his arm affectionately.
"You are better than him. You aren't alone in this." I said softly. He smiled at me, he reached forward, running his fingers through my hair that was blowing in the breeze. His fingertips brushed my cheek. I tilted my head toward him.
"You make me want to be a better man." He whispered. My eyes widened and I flushed. He stepped closer to me, and placed one hand on my hip, the other wound into my hair and tilted my head to face him. Time seemed to slow as I processed the feel of his warm body against me in the night air, I could see the sincerity in his icy gaze.
This wasn't like the last time he'd cornered me, I wasn't trapped. I had room to pull away. He was gentle. His face descended closer to mine, I could feel his breath on my parted lips. He looked into my eyes, and seemed to agree with whatever he found in them, because then his lips were pressing softly against my own. I gasped at the gentleness of his kiss, his lips pressed more firmly against my own, teasing my entrance with his tongue, requesting entry. I parted my lips and felt myself sink against him. His arm wrapped securely around my waist. My hands gripped his shoulders and explored down his bag, dragging my nails along. He groaned and moved to kiss down the column of my neck, causing me to tremble. His hands caressed the sensitive area of my rib cage.
We broke apart momentarily, each of us breathing heavily. He rested his forehead against mine. I smiled up at him.
"Is that how you get all the ladies?" I chuckled. He smiled and winked.
"Oh no, they all thought I was the greatest of men already." He joked.
"They just don't see all of your flaws like I do." I teased.
Him opening up to me, about his past, about his flaws, it made me yearn to tell him my truth. He had just been so vulnerable with me, voicing his doubts about his father. Could he be trusted? He seemed sincere, but he was unpredictable. Maybe, I needed to take a leap of faith.
"Rayne..." I started, swallowing audibly. He looked down at me, listening.
"Yes, Wren?" His name slipped off of his tongue melodically. I pushed myself away from him a little, crossing my arms in front of myself. I wrung my hands together in front of myself nervously.
"My name is Lyra. Lyra Wren Argyris." I stood tall and stared him in the eyes.