Rattled - Part 2
A/N: Merry Christmas and happy holidays :) I finally got some inspiration for part 2 (there will be a part 3!) for my Feysand train AU and got everything written down! So here it is. I hope you enjoy some Feysand banter and fluff @rhysndtrash & @vanilla28
Feyre offers a perfunctory wave to her early bird neighbor as the greying man stooped with some difficulty to retrieve his morning paper. Turning her attention back to the task at hand, she shifts her soft leather bag higher on her shoulder and carefully holds her steaming travel mug aloft while her other hand ensures the double locks on her front door slides into place. I’ll see you again in around fourteen hours my lovely bed.
Tossing her keys into their customary pocket in her purse, Feyre blindly walks the path that would bring her to the just sun kissed streets still empty of the early morning rush.
Thursdays are often early mornings, as one of her duties is to arrive in time to accept all new shipments and oversee loans to other galleries and the occasional art museum, plus the odd sale to dealers and collectors. Despite her distaste for waking with the sun, there’s something beautiful about being one of the first to see Velaris as the calling birds shoot across the sky, eager squirrels skittering over the cobblestones, and the first blush of fresh baked bread filling the new day.
Pulled from her musings by a bright chirp, Feyre shuffles around the center of her admittedly disorganized purse to find her phone and a waiting message from Mor.
are u sure u dont want it?
im going on record saying this is the most stubborn u have ever been
Rolling her eyes Feyre shoots off a quick answer – yes, busybody. I’m sure
This had become Mor’s new way to greet Feyre when they texted, or called, or one time sent actual paper letters that she had paid for postage to harass her poor hard working friend into accepting Rhysand’s phone number.
And it’s not that she doesn’t want it. Because at least some small – or perhaps very large and enamored – part of her really wants it and wants to rip open the buttons on that carefully tailored black dress shirt that hugged his –
It’s not like things hadn’t been heading in that direction; but they got separated at the train snack bar and then she’d been ushered from the train by a conductor determined to keep on schedule, barely giving her a chance to grab her bags from her depressingly empty compartment.
She’d managed to tamp down her disappointment, figuring if it was meant to be they wouldn’t have been so strangely separated. In fact, the strangeness was a tick in favor of not being meant to be. But Meddling Morrigan quickly told Feyre where she could shove her ‘meant to be nonsense.’
Still, she didn’t force the phone number on Feyre, which she is grateful for. Despite her flirtation and momentary infatuation, she’s still gun shy, and Mor is good enough to understand. But that doesn’t mean she’s going to let the issue go. Which is why another text sounds from the phone clenched in her free hand.
u r perfect for each other
which I told u
and then I was proven right
by ur unmitigated chemistry
so you can spell unmitigated out but not ‘you’
says the girl who uses quotes in casual texts
Feyre rolld her eyes but smiles nonetheless as she responds,
why are you even awake
gym with Az
is this thumb day
nah. im on the treadmill. multitasking my child
Before she has a chance to respond, Feyre finds her face
smashed against a tightly muscled form covered in a light sheen of sweat that
would’ve been gross if not for the violet eyes that glint down at her, “I was
hoping we’d run into each other,” he drawls, meticulously drinking in her form
before continuing with a smirk, “though I didn’t consider whether we would do