On her back, beneath the dining table, Hope stared up at the table's belly. Another week was gone, and still no answer to be found.
Amren had stopped coming over to help, though she said she'd let her know if she did happen upon anything. Hope's arrival had given Amren a little hope that she might find new answers, too.
It was all fruitless.
Footsteps carried toward her hiding spot, and soon, a body sat down next to the top of her head. Tilting her head back, she smiled softly at Azriel, who gazed down at her.
"Need a break?" He asked gently.
"Yup," she popped the 'p' on the end and sighed softly, "If I ever find a way back, half the city will have died of old age."
Azriel was quiet for a long moment. "I'm sorry."
"Could be worse, I guess. I could have landed somewhere horrible. At least only one of us has to suffer." Hope cringed. "That came out wrong…"
"It's realistic. We can grieve what's lost and celebrate what's gained."
Hope slowly rolled over and rested her chin on her hands, her elbows propped on the floor.
"That's what Feyre keeps saying."
"I warned her not to meddle."
Hope shrugged and smiled softly. "She's right. I must start living for now, or I'll be stuck in the past forever. It's just…it's only been two weeks. I've grieved dead pets for longer, so why am I not more distraught? Am I some terrible person?"
Looking at her thoughtfully, Azriel nodded in understanding. "Well, do you think you'd be this adjusted if you landed somewhere alone?"
"I suppose not." She murmured.
Azriel nodded. "It's the people we surround ourselves with who make the difficult times more bearable."
Comforting silence enveloped them for a few ticks of the clock.
"Feyre might be a bit cross with you," Azriel smiled playfully.
Hope lifted her head and blinked. "What? Why? Was I too rude to Nesta? Because listen, I'm all for girl power, but when you call me a whore sixteen times, I bite back."
"Oh, no. She loves the way you stand up to Nesta," Azriel chuckled, "Rhys had complimented her on her newest painting and said it was her best one yet."
Hope paled, seeing where this was going before it got there.
"In my defense, she said I could use the supplies…"
Azriel let out a light laugh and nodded. "You can. She's jealous of the skill."
"Oh," a blush pinkened her cheeks, "she told me she's self-taught. Being self-taught and producing those is far more impressive. My dad taught me, and he had over a thousand years of experience."
Azriel blinked. "I didn't realize your family had so many years."
"They're the Original Vampire family," Hope smiled, "it's all a very long, long story."
Smiling, Azriel watched her with soft eyes. "I can't wait to hear it."
"Did you ask her?" Mor's voice rang through the townhouse.
Arching a brow, Hope lifted her head with interest. "Ask me what?"
Mor grinned and shimmied her shoulders. "We're all going out for a drink and dancing."
Behind her strolled in Feyre, Rhys, and Cas.
"Come on," Feyre smiled, "It'll be fun, and you've yet to see the city at night."
Without missing a beat, Mor whipped out a stunning black cocktail dress sprinkled with iridescent glitter. The length of it had dancing in mind, and a pair of matching heels were in her other hand.
It had been forever since Hope had dressed in anything other than jeans and a t-shirt, and now leggings and plain shirts, not quite the same fit.
Hope cringed at the thought of getting drunk in front of these people, least of all Azriel.
"Please?" Mor asked, pouting out her lower lip.
Rolling her eyes, Hope smiled. "I'll go out, but I won't be drinking. I don't like drunk me." Pulling herself out from under the table, she ran her fingers through her hair as Mor smirked.
"Az picked the dress."
Hope glanced over at Azriel. The tips of his ears were red as he cleared his throat, and she couldn't help but smile.
"Then you better be the first to tell me I'm drop-dead-gorgeous."
Hope, Mor, and Feyre disappeared to the rooms to get ready and the process was something Hope hadn't realized she'd missed. She had been self-isolating for so long, far before she ever dropped from the sky.
While Mor readied herself, Feyre ran a comb through Hope's hair as Nuala and Cerridwen worked on gracing her features with makeup. It wasn't until Hope looked at the finished product in the mirror that she sucked in a sharp breath.
"I can't remember the last time I put makeup on, but it never looked like this…" She glanced at them. "That's a compliment, by the way."
Her cheeks were perfectly pink with glittered accents, her mouth plump and mauve, and her eyes strikingly blue in contrast to the thin liner and dark shadow she wore.
"It's a good thing you aren't High Fae," Mor smirked, "you'd have everyone on their knees. Mine included."
Hope rolled her eyes. "Tease."
They burst into laughter.
After their giggles had subsided, they got dressed. Hope went down to just above her knee, but every inch of the blackish-blue dress seemed covered in starlight. The bodice was effectively the prettiest piece, displaying rows of glitter set with gems.
That, and her supple cleavage.
"Az will be staring at you all night." Mor sighed happily.
Hope cast a look in her direction. "Hm, so that's what this is about. You're trying to Parent Trap me."
Feyre and Mor exchanged a glance.
"Parent Trap," Hope continued as she strapped on her heels, "is when two mischievous girls plot events to get two people they want together. But that wouldn't be you two, would it? You wouldn't try to manipulate your friends into being more than they're ready to be."
"We would," Mor answered with a not-so-subtle smirk, glancing over her left shoulder.
Hope puffed out a sigh and stood straight; shaking her head, she smiled.
"What do you think?"
"I think you're drop-dead-gorgeous." Azriel's smooth yet graveled voice came from the door.
Hope froze as goosebumps suddenly trailed her spine. Slowly turning to face him, she no longer needed the makeup to blush her cheeks.
"Ready?" Azriel asked in his smart black suit, offering his arm.