Hours after they'd gotten back from Hybern, after the healer and come and gone, after Cassian and Azriel were declared stable, and after the blood had been cleaned from the hallway, Mor found her cousin in the living room, slowly emptying a bottle of alcohol she knew had been full the day before. The dying embers of the fire was the only light in the room and shadows cut sharply across Rhys' face, making him look as menacing as the rest of Prythian thought he was. But Mor could see the pain behind the expression.
He blinked up at her slowly when she appeared in the doorway. "I'm really not in the mood for another lecture," he said before downing the rest of the amber liquid in his glass.
Mor sighed and took a across from him, reaching for a glass and tipping it toward Rhys pointedly. "Self-pity does not look good on you, cousin."
Rhys' lips twisted into a wry smile and he poured them both another drink, raising his in a silent yet so clearly sarcastic salute before tipping it to his lips. While Mor drank hers slower, Rhys' was gone in a few mouthfuls. They lapsed into silence, while Rhys poured himself another generous glass.
"Why?" he asked after a long moment, voice pitched low. "Do I always lose the ones I love?"
Mor's heart ached for him, for the pain in his eyes, for the way he tipped his head back against the lounge, and pressed his lips together tightly. She set her glass down on the table and quietly moved from her spot to sit next to him.
Immediately the strength went out of him, the adrenaline keeping him upright after the events of the past hours failing him and his head rested heavily on her shoulder. And all she could think to say was, "I don't know."
This was VERY short but I really felt like actually finishing something. So I hope you enjoyed it :)