It was near seven o'clock when she got into the subway to go join Rhys. She'd sent him a text the night before, saying "Thank you for the drink. And the hat. Have a good night :)", and after his first answer, they had arranged for their meeting on Saturday evening. So there she was, on the Northern Lights line, heading to the eastern part of Velaris, close to the mountains. She was extremely nervous about tonight, and had spent her afternoon at home, doing chores and trying not to think too much about it. But it was a big deal for her, whether she wanted to admit it or not. She hadn't been on an actual date in nearly a year, not since her first few months with Tamlin, when he was still making efforts to please her. After a while, he had just started suggesting they stayed at home and invited people over, instead of going out, and she'd let him have his way, trying to enjoy the time spent with his friends, thinking that it was normal for him to want to have her for himself, trying to convince herself that this need to control and shadow her was a form of love she should appreciate. So her last night out in any kind of romantic situation had happened nine months ago, and now that she was going to meet with Rhys for their first actual date, she couldn't help feeling anxious. She'd kept his hat on her head longer than necessary when coming home the night before, enjoying its warmth, and she'd found sleep rather easily, considering her encounter with Ianthe.

It was a bit crazy to think about how this man that had come into her life so unexpectedly only a few days before had been able to lift this weight off her, if only for a few hours. How the hands that had enveloped hers had seemed immediately comforting and right. How when she had hugged him before leaving, she hadn't really wanted to let go of him, relishing in the proximity of his heart against her chest. She didn't know what to make of all of this, and maybe going on a real date would help her figure it out.

She got out at the station he'd told her about, and found him waiting outside, hands buried in the pockets of his dark jeans, a heavy dark coat enveloping his upper body. His eyes found hers and seemed to light up at the same time a broad smile appeared on his lips.

"Hi Feyre."

"Hi Rhys, how are you ?"

"Oh certainly better now that you're here ! How is your day going so far ?"

"Good enough, although I recall being promised a meal in one of your favorite restaurants, and I'm now standing in front of a subway station, freezing. I hope you have better in store, mister."

He laughed at her answer, and said :

"Oh I certainly do, come on."

They entered a restaurant a few streets away. I was really small, just a handful of tables, and it had a warm atmosphere, mainly thanks to the heavy curtains covering the ceiling, and the cozy light produced by the candles in every table. Rhys led her to a table in a small alcove, and she sat down as he took off his jacket, revealing a dark blue shirt underneath. She chuckled at the sight.

"Do you ever wear anything that's not black or dark blue ?"

He smiled and answered "Barely ever. You have to admit they go perfectly with my eyes, though."

She was certainly not going to admit that, even if he was completely right. He seemed to know exactly how handsome he was, and she wasn't going to feed his ego some more. So she simply rolled her eyes and started studying the menu.

They started chatting once their food was ordered.

"You look beautiful tonight, Darling."

She did. Even though her clothes were the opposite of the dress she had been wearing the night before, the dark jeans and tight beige sweater created a very simple and intimate look, and he found that outfit more attractive than any cocktail dress she could wear. A light blush started coloring her cheeks at his words, and he couldn't refrain from biting his lower lip at how gorgeous this woman was.

"Thank you. You're not so bad yourself."

"Oh, so you do admit that my shirt suits me then," he answered teasingly. He wasn't ready to admit to her that he'd tried about ten different shirts before settling for this one, trying to look his best after seeing her the night before. After all, wearing an old stained hoodie and an even older tracksuit wasn't exactly how he wanted her to picture him. She rolled her eyes again, although she was smiling, and her cheeks were still exquisitely flushed with color. She looked so much more relaxed than she had the night before, when her eyes had been red from her crying, and she had been averting his eyes. These were obviously good signs, but he wanted to make sure.

"More seriously, are you… feeling better than yesterday ?"

"Much better. Thank you again for the drink and… for not asking too many questions." Her voice was lower, her smile softer as she looked at him.

"Hey, it's your personal life, I don't want to pressure you into anything if you're not comfortable talking about it. Although, as I told you yesterday, feel free to talk to me if you want to."

He wanted to grab her hand again like he'd done the night before, not to comfort her this time, but only to enjoy the feeling of her long fingers in his. But one of her hands was hidden under the table, probably resting on her knees, and the other was tuging some hair behind her ear, so he just kept on watching her.

"Thank you for the offer, but to be honest I don't really want to talk about that with you because… Well I feel like I can be myself around you, because you don't know about my last relationship and knowing might change the way you see me. So for now, I prefer for you to not know too much about that, if that's okay ?"

"Of course that's okay, Feyre. I just want you to know that if some day you feel comfortable enough to tell me about it, I promise I won't see you any differently. I'm good at keeping promises, remember ?"

She chuckled at that, and their food arrived then. She looked at her plate and her eyelids fluttered close as she took in the smell coming from it. He watched her chest go up as her lungs filled in, and couldn't keep himself from - again - thinking about how beautiful she looked. He looked up to meet her eyes and found her watching him, a smirk on her face and her eyebrows shot up suggestively, as if she'd known exactly where he'd been looking. He blushed and cleared his throat, suddenly embarrassed.

"So Feyre, you... you told me yesterday you liked painting on your free time ? Being an illustrator is more than just a job then, isn't it ?"

"I do. Well, I haven't had time to paint much in the last few months, but yes, I love painting," she answered, apparently ready to let him get away with ogling her so clearly.

"It must be good to be able to work with your passion."

"Well, yes and no. Sometimes it can be frustrating to work on commission if I'm not inspired at first, so I can spend days drawing various ideas and hating all of it. At the same time, there are moments like the illustrations for the book that was presented at the party yesterday, when I'm so inspired I can't stop myself. So it's very interesting and I'm glad I'm able to work in that field."

"You're very lucky about that you know."

"You don't like what you do ?"

"It's not so much that I don't like it, it's more like I was expected to do what I do since I was a kid, so I never really pictured myself doing anything else, and my job isn't exactly what I'm passionate about."

"How were you expected to be a real-estate developer since you were a kid ?"

"Oh… It's kind of a family thing, it's what my father and my uncle do, so…" He didn't have a good answer to give her, not one that didn't involve telling her that he was the heir to a multi-billion dollars company. She seemed to sense his discomfort :

"We don't have to talk about work if you don't want to. Actually, I'd prefer for us not to talk about work, I feel like knowing what you do with your spare time is much more interesting. For example, why do you go to a gym in The Rainbow if you live this side of the Sidra ?"

"Ah, there's a very good explanation for that !"

The food had been splendid, rich but with just the right amount of everything, each dish served with an accompanying glass of wine. Feyre couldn't remember the last time she had enjoyed a meal that much. But the food wasn't the greatest aspect of the night. Rhys, however arrogant he seemed to be, was good company, listening intently to her when she talked and keeping a very lively and interesting conversation. She felt comfortable around him, she was able to talk freely about her interests, and she was rather enjoying watching him talk too. It wasn´t just that he was handsome (although, he was), but he had so much charisma that she'd spent her evening resisting the urge to touch him, and forcing herself not to look at him too… intensely.

It was already near midnight when their waiter awkwardly interrupted their conversation to tell them that the restaurant was about to close, and they went into the street, still talking. They headed slowly towards the subway station, and when Feyre felt her fingers brush slightly against his, she once more resisted the urge to hold his hand. From the corner of her vision, she saw he was also glancing at their hands so close to one another, and he gently took her hand in his. The movement made her smile. At least one of them wasn't too shy to dare take a step closer. They continued to walk hand in hand, neither of them talking, until they were in front of the subway station. Rhys turned to face her, his right hand still holding hers while he rubbed the back of his neck with his left one :

"I had a great evening, Feyre."

"Me too."

"Text me when you get home ?"

"Sure."

She didn't want to go home yet, she thought, watching him bite his lower lip. Her eyes went up to meet his gaze, and she felt her body warm up a little as his hand left the back of his neck, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and stopped to rest gently on her cheek. He was watching her with an incredible focus, but he didn't move. Feyre took in a deep breath. After all, he'd been the one to take her hand earlier, maybe it was her turn to stop being shy. And with that thought, she stood on the tip of her toes, and brushed her lips against his. He kissed her back instantly, moving his lips ever so slowly, his hand still on her cheek. They broke apart after a few seconds, but Feyre didn't open her eyes immediately, trying to memorize every second of what had happened. When she opened her eyes to go back to reality, she found him smiling softly against her, his eyes also closed. He came closer and whispered "sweet dreams, Feyre" before placing a featherlight kiss on her ear.

Later, as she was reaching her apartment, she couldn't stop thinking about how his lips had felt so soft on hers, how hearing his voice close to her ear had made her insides flutter, how hard it had been to let go of his hand and walk away from him. She slipped her hands into her bag to grab her keys and laughed as she touched his hat, that she had completely forgotten to give back to him.