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Feyre breathed in the scent of her herbal tea. Ressina had picked well, she could smell cinnamon, citrus and something spicy in it. When she took her first sip, Feyre let out an appreciative sigh. "How do you always come up with these combinations?" She asked her friend, peering at her over the steaming cup.
Ressina was sitting across from her, boots kicked off, feet curled beneath her in the armchair. She just chuckled. "We all have our secrets, Feyre." She said mysteriously and Feyre smiled, shaking her head.
From the corner of her eye, Feyre saw as someone sat their mug on the table next to theirs. He was tall and clad in black clothes. He gracefully sat into the armchair closest to Ressina’s and Feyre’s breath caught in her throat as she saw his face.
He was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. Her fingers curled tighter around her cup and she had the itch to pull out her sketchbook and draw him.
Ressina noted her stare and looked at the stranger next to her. She turned back to Feyre and rolled her eyes. It felt as though an eternity had passed, when Feyre finally managed to tear her gaze from him.
"You should draw him." Ressina said in her native language. She had been teaching Feyre the basics for a few years now and Feyre was glad that they could communicate without using the common tongue.
She snapped her gaze to Ressina and asked, "How did you know I was thinking that?"
Ressina just looked at her and Feyre blushed deeply. "Fine. Dumb question."
She put her tea down and knotted her fingers in her lap. She really wanted to take out her sketchbook and charcoal. She wanted to sketch the sharp planes of his face on paper. And when she had gotten used to his features, she wanted to use paint. He had the most extraordinary colouring. Jet black hair, tan skin and blue eyes, that were so dark they almost looked purple.
She wanted to paint him against a backdrop of the night sky. With his dark clothing and those eyes, he belonged in the night.
"You’re staring." Ressina said softly and Feyre was glad that the stranger was looking down at his phone and too busy to see her gawking at him.
"He’s so pretty." She said, her mind still on the painting.
She thought she saw his lips quirk up, but no. Ressina’s native language was so uncommon that even their college didn’t offer any classes to learn. There was no way he could understand them.
"Ask him." Ressina said and Feyre tore her gaze again from the stranger. Every time she did it, it became harder. She wanted to drink him in. Wouldn’t have minded sitting here and memorising every inch of him.
"To do what? Paint him or fuck him?" Feyre asked bluntly and this time there was no way it was an accident.
The stranger had just taken a sip of his beverage and was now coughing.
Mortified, Feyre looked at Ressina. But Ressina had already clapped her hand over her mouth and when Feyre gathered the courage to look back at the stranger, he was already looking back at her.
"I would say yes to both just so you know, darling." He said, cockily and Feyre wanted to sink to floor and disappear. But his voice was velvet smooth and something in her stomach curled tightly as he held her gaze.
"I think you’re pretty, too." He said and Feyre felt her cheeks blush.
Ressina shifted in her seat and kicked her under the table. Feyre let out a yelp of surprise and glared at her friend. But Ressina was already pulling on her boots. "I have this thing." She deadpanned, draining her piping hot tea and standing. "Why don’t you two.. chat. Or whatever."
And with that obvious lie, she darted outside the shop and left Feyre to gape after her.
The stranger pointed to the now empty armchair and asked, "May I?"
Feyre nodded and fumbled for the right words. "Um, sorry, I didn’t mean-" She broke off, watching as he fluidly rose from his seat and slid into the one across from her. She had meant everything she had said but, well..
He looked amused, lips quirked up and stars twinkling in his night blue eyes. "Oh?"
"No, I mean I did mean it. But I wouldn’t have said it, if I had known you understood." She corrected and this time he did grin. His features turning almost feline.
"Well, then I am very glad that you didn’t know what languages I spoke." He said simply as if what she had said, were the greatest compliments one could receive.
"I’m Feyre." She said, fingers curling back around her mug because her mind had urged her to stand up and touch his hair to check if it felt as soft as it looked.
She needed to get a grip on herself.
"Rhysand." He replied. "So, which one do you want to do more urgently? Paint me or fuck me?"
Feyre bit down on her bottom lip. She was about apologise again, when the challenge in his eyes sparked something in her. "You can choose." She said boldly and he smiled again.
"Well, if you want a nude painting, we might be able to kill two birds with one stone." He said as if they were talking about the weather.
Feyre wasn’t entirely sure if he was serious or kidding. But she sure as hell wasn’t going to be the one to break first. So she just smirked back at him. "Sounds great. Do you have time now?"
At that he seemed to remember where they were and looked around. As he looked around, a gorgeous blonde spotted him and hurried over. A tall, broad shouldered guy followed her, grinning as well.
"Rhys! There you are." The blonde said. Her voice was light and bubbly. When she spotted Feyre, she halted in her tracks and frowned. Was this his girlfriend? Had he been flirting with her despite being in a relationship? But before she could fully form her thoughts, the blonde turned to Cassian and spoke in a whisper so that Rhysand and Feyre could still hear them. "Cassian, I think Rhys is flirting with that girl."
Rhysand groaned and picked up his mug. I looked at him, not knowing whether to laugh or hide behind my drink as well.
"Do you think he needs our help?" The guy - Cassian - replied, using the same mock whisper voice.
"I don’t know. I’ll ask him." Mor said and turned back to them. As if that exchange hadn’t happened, she looked at Feyre and grinned broadly. "Hello, I’m Mor. Rhys’ cousin."
"Hey." Feyre said a little shocked by the warmth in her eyes.
Rhysand groaned again and Feyre could have sworn he had groaned his cousin’s name. She couldn’t help herself, she laughed. Laughed so hard, that Rhysand looked at her and his own lips twitched.
"I guess we’re equally mortified now, aren’t we, Feyre darling?" He asked, amusement dancing in his eyes and Feyre nodded, still chuckling.
"I think this is worse." She said con spiritually as Cassian finally reached them and clapped Rhysand’s back. "You need any pointers, brother?" Then he leaned down closer and whispered something in his ear. Rhysand laughed and the sound wrapped around Feyre, warming her heart.
He looked at her and said, "It’s getting a little too crowded in here, wanna go somewhere else?"
She quirked one eyebrow at him. "Sure. Maybe somewhere private."
He chuckled again and rose from his seat. Mor and Cassian gaped at them, as Rhysand held out his arm for Feyre and she took it, wrapping hers around his. "I’m dying to see how you look underneath those clothes." She said and said Cassian’s mouth pop open.
"Have fun you two. My new friend Feyre is going to paint me."
And with that enigmatic goodbye, Rhysand swept Feyre out of the shop and into the chilly autumn air. She stopped him and let go of his arm. "Now what?"
He looked down at her. Now that they were standing, she could appreciate how tall he really was. He cocked his head to the side again and again, Feyre was reminded of a cat.
"Now, you take me to your place and have your wicked way with me, Feyre darling." He said, smirking at the way she was gawking at him again.
"You’re.. serious?" She asked him, not able to keep the scepticism from her voice. At that he slid his hands into his pockets and sighed. "You said you wanted me. Well, Feyre, I am telling you that you can have me. In whatever way you wish."
She blushed again and even against her better judgement, she really, really wanted to paint him. Maybe not nude. But she wanted to study him as she did, taking her time with every brush stroke to get his features right.
"I hope you have enough stamina to last a couple hours." She told him finally and when his eyebrows shot up in surprise, she amended quickly, "To pose for my painting. While you’re dressed."
He chuckled and offered his arm again. "Lead the way, Feyre darling. I promise my stamina won’t disappoint."