Hey everyone! If you don't read my fic "Staying Afloat" you might have missed this, so I'm putting the explanation here again.

I'm so sorry I didn't update for so long. If you follow me on Tumblr, you might have seen the fluff challenge I gave myself in December. It was really hard but really fun! I'm sorry I didn't post it here, it was way too much work to post it on three platforms... But you can check it out on my Tumblr :) it's nomattertheoceans (also, come chat whenever!)

Anywayyyyy now we're back on business! I'm planning on updating once every two weeks, more or less. We don't have many chapters left on this fic now!

As she started kissing him again, Feyre felt Rhysand's hands move against her, and then they were caressing her cheeks, her neck, traveling up and plunging into her hair. She let out a small moan when he started massaging her scalp, and she felt a smile grow on his lips. She didn't resist her instincts anymore, and she passed her tongue on his lips, a silent demand to deepen the kiss that was immediately answered. She moved to straddle him and her hands flattened on his chest, but the shift didn't disturb him from kissing her.

They broke apart after a moment, and Feyre felt his heart pounding beneath her palms, but she didn't open her eyes, and she didn't move away. Instead, she very slowly moved her hips to grind against him, and he groaned, his hands moving away from her hair only to slide down her back. She moved just slightly, and as she opened her eyes, found herself looking into his deep blue eyes. She didn't look away as her hands started unbuttoning his shirt, brushing against his tattoos as she got lower and lower, until his shirt was completely open, and his hands left her back to get rid of the shirt completely. She couldn't help her smile, and she captured his lips again, her hands roaming free over his muscles. She felt his fingers trail a path down her back, over her hips and on the outside of her thighs, until they reached the edge of her dress. She sighed against him, wanting to feel his hands on her skin. Rhys suddenly stopped kissing her, and took one hand to her back to steady her on his lap as he sat up on the bed, leaving her to drink in the sight of his body at will as he lifted her dress over her arms and head.

When she saw his eyes drift down and take her in with a small smile, she had a second of self-awareness during which she was glad to have chosen a black lace bra to wear, and she chuckled. He looked back up with a frown and she whispered "nothing" before kissing him again. She felt his hands struggle with the clasp of her bra, and then it was gone, joining her dress on the ground, and then his fingers where tracing soft lines under her breasts, and their tongue were interlaced in a heated kiss, their hips slowly rocking together as she lowered her hands to grab his belt and -

A knock on the door. They both went still in unison, waited for a few seconds without moving, and Feyre resumed kissing him. Another knock interrupted them, and he groaned.

"Whoever they are, they'll go away," she whispered against his lips, and she felt him smile.

But then, she heard a voice she couldn't say 'no' to, not tonight.

"Feyre, are you awake?" Elain asked from the corridor. Feyre moved away from Rhys' lap with an unrestrained sigh, and he laughed, collapsing on the bed behind her. She remained seated, catching her breath for a while, enjoying the light brush of Rhysand's knuckles on the bare skin of her back. Then she got up, grabbed her dress from the floor to cover herself up and walked to the door.

Except she hadn't grabbed the dress, she had Rhys' shirt in her hand and she was in front of the door. So she slipped the shirt on, buttoned it quickly and opened the door to find Elain on the other side.

"What's up?"

"I'm sorry, Feyre, am I waking you up?" Elain said, taking in her bare legs and disheveled hair. Feyre should have lied, but she could still feel the ghost of Rhysand's lips against hers, and out of resentment for having been interrupted, she said:

"Not exactly, no."

Elain's eyes opened wide and she blushed. "Oh no, I'm so sorry."

Feyre instantly felt bad for making her uncomfortable, and opened the door wider. "It's fine. What is it? Are you feeling alright?"

"Not really, no… I'm kind of… freaking out."

"About tomorrow?"

"Yes."

Feyre checked behind her and found Rhysand sitting on the bed, smiling at her, still shirtless - she was to blame for that - but otherwise presentable, so she waved Elain in. They all stood there for a minute, Elain twisting her fingers and watching the ground, while they both exchanged a look.

"I'm gonna leave you two alone for a while," Rhys said as he got up, came by to give her a very chaste peck on the lips that still made her want to get him on the bed again, and went to the balcony. She didn't realize she'd been staring at his muscled back until he sat down and she couldn't see him anymore. She coughed slightly and turned back to Elain, who looked mortified.

"I'm so sorry, Feyre, I didn't mean to bother you…"

"It's fine. You're more important tonight." She led her to the bed and they sat down beside each other. "What's going on? Why are you freaking out?"

"Well, it's just…. there is so much pressure on me and I don't know what to do."

"Are you having doubts?"

"A little bit, maybe."

Feyre looked at her sister, with her tensed shoulders and clenched jaw. "Elain, I'm sure it's just you getting anxious, but if you really feel like you're making a mistake, you can always postpone the wedding or …"

"What?" Elain interrupted, "oh no Feyre, I don't have doubts about marrying Lucien!"

"Oh. Okay, good. Then… what is it?"

Her sister's eyes filled with tears and her lower lip trembled. "Well, what if we made the wrong choice about our photographer?"

"... What?"

"What if the photos are awful and we never have good quality pictures to remember the wedding?"

"Oh…"

"And we chose a band for the dinner, but what if it would have been better with a DJ? I mean, bands need to take breaks, and what if one of them is hurt and can't play, you know like in that movie where the guy is hurt and can't play?"

"Elain…"

"And what if the flowers get delivered to the billing address back home and not here tomorrow? We can't get married without flowers! Can you imagine how ugly the photos would be without the flowers? Oh and with the photographer being bad, it's just going to be so wrong, and what if…"

Feyre grabbed her sister by the shoulders. "Elain. You're spiralling. Try to calm down, breathe."

"I can't calm down! This is my wedding, Fey! I won't have a second one, and it needs to be perfect and I just…. I need to see Lucien."

"Elain, what you need is some fresh air, okay?" She said as she guided her sister up and to the balcony. She made her sit down on the chair she'd been occupying the night before and crouched down beside her. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Rhys straighten up as they came out, and look at her sister with a frown of concern. He started to get up and Feyre turned to her sister. "Elain, can you stay alone for just a moment?"

Her sister nodded and Feyre followed Rhys inside. He sat on the bed and Feyre immediately wanted to kiss him again, so she stayed close to the balcony door as a self-restraining security.

"It's okay, you can stay with her, I just wanted to give you guys space. What's happening? Does she want to cancel?" Rhys asked.

Feyre couldn't restrain a chuckle. "No, I thought so but… I think she's just been under a lot of pressure organizing all this and she's just letting it out now."

"Oh, alright. My cousin had kind of the same thing when she got married. What you need right now," he said as he got up and walked to the mini-bar, "is booze. A lot of it."

She took the bottle of white wine he was handing her, but still shook her head. "I can't get my sister drunk the night before her wedding! She needs to be fresh and rested in the morning."

"Trust me, Feyre, you'd rather have her drinking a bit and being asleep in an hour or two, rather than sober and getting twenty minutes of rest before the ceremony."

She considered for a moment before grabbing the corkscrew and taking his other hand in hers. "Alright, but you're coming with me."

" - and then, just when we thought it was over, we realized our mother was standing behind us!"

Feyre and Elain both started laughing at the end of the story about how Cassian had broken all of their parents' wedding china when they were eleven, and Rhysand grabbed the bottle from Feyre's hand to gulp down some wine. The three of them were still on their balcony, except that Feyre had given him his shirt back and was now wearing a flowery summer dress. She was sitting on his lap, an arm draped behind his head, and God, was she gorgeous.

But it was more than that.

She was a star. She illuminated everything around her, glowing unknowingly with her smile and her laughter and the way she spoke to people. He had seen her do it during the evening, and now she was doing it again, with her sister. Elain had arrived a half-hour earlier, stressed out and on edge. Now she was laughing and relaxed, having forgotten whatever it was that had her anxious. And it wasn't his stupid stories, or the wine. It was Feyre.

Seeing her snuggled against him so naturally had him once again wonder how it was possible that they'd only met a week before. Because it wasn't just physical attraction - although, he couldn't deny how much he wanted to get her back in bed. They connected on every level, and he felt the need to tell her everything about him, and to know all there was to know about her. He wanted to learn how she took her coffee in the morning, and he wanted to watch her when she was tired after a long day or happy about silly little things.

"So," Elain suddenly said, interrupting his thoughts, "are we going to get out of here or what?"

"What do you mean?" Feyre asked.

"I want to go swimming!"

"We're not going down to the beach at this hour, El."

Her sister looked at her with a mischievous smile. "We have a pool." And without waiting for an answer, she got up, grabbed the bottle of wine from his hands and went towards the door. Feyre looked down at him in desperation, but he only said:

"I guess we're going swimming, Darling."