Grabbing his towel to wipe the sweat off his face, Rhys instinctively reached for his phone, as he'd done incessantly since he'd woken up that morning. She had told him "Talk tomorrow" in her last text, but after the way they'd left things the night before, he wasn't sure as to when - and if - she was going to contact him. He wanted to let her come back to him on her own, not wishing to force her into any conversation she wasn't ready to have.

But he'd still been driven mad by his unringing phone all day, checking it every 40 seconds or so to see if she'd written to him or called him. By late afternoon, he had headed for the gym in the Rainbow, hoping some heavy workout would help him not constantly think about Feyre. It hadn't worked. He had been at the gym for more than two hours now, working his body to its very limits, and still he thought of her. He hadn't slept well the night before, his mind drifting between two thoughts: the overwhelming good sensations brought by feeling her body on top of his and the way her hands had tangled in his hair, and the awfully bad memories of her obviously tortured face when she'd jumped away from him all of a sudden. He had finally fallen asleep hours later, and his Saturday had gone by in a blur, in spite of meeting with Azriel in the morning, having lunch and going for a walk with his mother, and now the gym. He didn't know how long he would be able to go on without hearing from her, knowing if she was okay, if she was mad at him, if there was anything he could do to help her.

He did a last series of exercises before he went to the locker room and stripped down to take a shower. Coming out a few minutes later, he put on his usual tracksuit and hoodie, and was drying his hair when he saw his phone light up.

Feyre, 21:02: Hey

He smiled at her text, amazed at how such a short and plain message could make him feel so glad.

21:03: Hey. How are you?

Feyre, 21:06: Good. Do you have plans for tonight?

If he thought he had been glad before, that was nothing compare to seeing that text. Did she want them to meet? That was a good sign, right?

21:07 : Free as a bird!

And in her neighborhood, for that matter. Not that he was going to tell her that right away, he didn't want her to think he was inviting himself to her place, not when she hadn't suggested they meet yet. Maybe she just wanted to text or talk on the phone, and he didn't want her to get the wrong idea. Her next text had him change his mind immediately though.

Feyre, 21:09: Maybe we could get together if you want?

21:11: Sure. I'm at the gym, we could meet at the pub from the other night?

Feyre, 21:14: If you're in the Rainbow, you could come to my apartment, maybe eat something from the Indian place we talked about?

He stared at her text for a few seconds, before answering:

21:16: Absolutely. See you in five in front of the restaurant?

Feyre, 21:17: See you there.

She was pacing in front of the Thangabali, trying to control her nervousness. After a sleepless night and an agitated Saturday, she had felt the need to write to him. She had known that after the way she'd left things the night before, she would not feel any better as long as she hadn't at least talked to him. And now they were meeting to eat at her apartment, after she had blurted out an invitation upon learning that he was in the Rainbow. She passed her hands through her hair and took a deep breath. It was not a big deal, they were just going to sit on her apartment and eat some food, and talk about casual subjects like they'd done before. She didn't want to even think about the possibility of talking about anything heavier, even though she had decided otherwise that afternoon.

She saw him walking up the street towards her and she stopped pacing to smile at him. He was wearing the same clothes he had the week before, probably his usual outfit after the gym, and he smiled back at her. He got to her fast and they stayed silent for just a second before Feyre reached up to brush her lips on his cheek as a hello. After a short casual conversation, they entered the restaurant to order.

Twenty minutes later, she led him up the small staircase beside the restaurant, and stopped on the second floor to open the door. He followed her in, and she felt a tinge of embarrassment when she saw him take in her tiny studio, recalling his gigantic and beautiful house and wondering what he thought of her place. But he only smiled at her, visibly waiting for her invitation to sit on the bed (not that there was any other option). She sat down and patted the spot beside her, watching him set down the takeout boxes between them. They divided up the boxes and started eating in silence. The other times they'd met, she had enjoyed it, how easy it was to stay silent around him, but not tonight. No, tonight she felt like every second she didn't talk about what she'd decided to tell him, it would become more and more difficult to get it out of her. After a few minutes like that, she finally stopped eating and looked at him.

"I'm sorry about how I acted last night."

He immediately set down his food and looked at her.

"Feyre, you don't need to apologize."

"I do, I really do. I left you with barely an explanation, and I feel really bad about it. So I'm sorry."

He moved his hand slowly, as if to envelop hers, clearly not wanting to cross any boundary. Shee grabbed his hand softly, showing him that she was okay with his touch, and he smiled. She continued:

"The thing is, I really enjoyed kissing you last night."

Color crept up his cheeks but he didn't talk, only caressed the back of her hand with his thumb, waiting for her to talk.

"I like you... a lot. But I'm not sure of what I want. With you and in my life in general. I know it's ridiculous, but I can't help it, and last night it all just seemed so intense that I felt a bit overwhelmed."

"I don't think it's ridiculous, Feyre," he breathed, still caressing her hand on soothing movements, his eyes on her gentle. She took a deep breath and started talking about what she had decided it was time he knew: Tamlin.

"My last relationship ended a little over two months ago. We were together for a year, and it got… ugly.

"We were friends for some time, and I didn't want to take it any further with him, but I don't know, after a few months I accepted to go on a date with him and then we started going out. I think I stayed with him at first because for the first time since I was eleven, someone was actually concerned about my wellbeing. And then it just became love. We were dating for two months when he suggested we move in together, and I accepted. He changed after that. No, that's not true, he didn't change, I just started to see him as he really was. He became very possessive, he didn't want me to go out on my own, and when I did, he was constantly calling me and texting me to know where I was, when I was coming home, who was with me,... It became more effort than it was worth so I nearly entirely stopped going out with friends. He was always suggesting we hang out at our house with his friends instead, and I lost touch with most of my friends then. But I thought it was normal. It was my first real and serious relationship so I figured it was normal for him to be scared for me when he wasn't around. And it felt… good somehow, to have someone take care of me for a change.

"I don't know when it happened exactly, but after a while, I realized I wasn't happy like that. I had stopped painting entirely, I never wanted to get out of bed in the mornings so I didn't get up before lunch most days, and even when I could go out without him knowing, I just… I didn't have the energy. But I didn't leave him, because I was in love with him, and when I told him I wasn't feeling good, he seemed concerned and willing to try to help me. But he never did. I felt sad and lonely all the time. I didn't talk to my family about it because I didn't think they would understand. Tamlin - my ex - he helped my father a lot financially, he managed to track down my mother and my parents got back together thanks to him, he paid for Nesta's last year of school… I thought they were going to tell me I was selfish and ungrateful for not feeling happy with him, so I just stayed.

"One afternoon in mid-August, he told me he had something important to tell me, and we had dinner alone that night. At the end of the night, he… proposed to me."

Rhys stopped his movement on her hand for a second, before starting again.

"When I saw the ring I knew, I just knew that I couldn't say yes to him. I didn't want to leave him because I loved him, but I couldn't say yes. It just felt like too much, to marry him when I was so sad all the time. A wedding should be a happy occasion, the beginning of a lifetime with that person that you love more than anything, and I was uncertain of everything in my life. I told him that I wasn't ready to marry him, that I felt like I was drowning, like he was the one holding my head under the water. I thought it would be good, talking about it so frankly with him, I thought it might help him realize how bad I was, and how much I needed him to understand. But he got angry, and started screaming at me, asking why I didn't love him and saying that I had no reason to feel that way. I got up to leave because he was… scaring me, and he…"

She choked on her words, wanting to stop, feeling her eyes starting to burn at the memory. But she needed to say it, she wanted Rhys to know. She looked at him directly and saw his eyes filled with what she thought might be rage, as if he had already understood what she was going to say. But he didn't interrupt her, and she was glad for it.

"He grabbed my wrists in his hands and pushed me against a glass cabinet we had in the dining room. He kept yelling at me, and he pushed me so hard that… the cabinet shattered in my back and I was covered in glass. My wrists were hurting so much but I couldn't move, it was like I was frozen. After a moment he… I think he realized what he'd done and he released me, and he started crying and apologizing and telling me that he loved me. But I couldn't stay. I grabbed my handbag and got out of the house, I called my friend Alis to see if I could crash at her house, she's one of the only ones I had kept in touch with. I stayed with her and her nephews for two weeks before I found this apartment. I haven't seen him or talked to him since that night."

She breathed, feeling sad but relieved that she'd managed to go through that much already. She finished:

"I broke up with him less than three months ago and I don't… I'm not sure I'm ready to start a new relationship right now. That's the reason why I didn't want to give you my number when we met. And that's the reason I left last night. I'm sorry."

"Feyre," he seemed at loss for words, "Feyre don't apologize, please."

His voice was soft and warm, and when she gazed into his eyes, Feyre saw sadness there, sadness and anger. He didn't seem to know what to say, but she didn't need him to say anything. She felt lighter, as if a weight she hadn't known she was carrying had lifted from her chest by telling him all of this. She also felt grateful. He had listened to her, not interrupting her and not pressing her with questions now that she was done. He just kept on stroking her hand slowly and watching her with his deep violet eyes, as if assessing how to help her the best he could. She moved her hands into his to interlace theirs fingers, and smiled at him. His answering smile was as faint as her own, and he whispered at last:

"Thank you."

She chuckled and asked "For what?"

"For according me enough trust to tell me your story," he said.

Feyre didn't know what to say to this, she hadn't really thought about it that way, but she did trust him, she realized. She hadn't talked to anyone about what had happened between her and Tamlin, only Alis the night she'd gone to her house when it had happened. Her family only knew that they had broken up because she wasn't happy with him anymore, and they hadn't asked further questions. Feyre smiled a bit more, and slowly bent towards him to brush her lips against his, whispering against them: "Thank you for being someone I can trust with it." She pressed a featherlight kiss on the corner of his mouth and moved back to grab one of her takeout boxes.

At the end of the meal, Feyre had suggested watching a movie. They were now cuddled in the dark in front of her computer, leaning against one another. Rhys was mindlessly tracing circles on her thigh, savoring the feeling of her head settled against his shoulder, her own hand resting on his forearm. He was watching her more than he was watching the movie. Thinking about what she'd told him earlier, he was still a bit shaky, torn between being angry at her clearly abusive ex-boyfriend, and wanting to hold her against him to make her feel better. He hadn't had words to express how he felt about her tale, anger and sorrow and sadness melting together in his brain. But she hadn't seemed to mind, giving him the softest of kisses before resuming her eating, more relaxed than he'd ever seen her.

He was still replaying what she'd told him in his head when he heard her breathing getting more even and calm. He smiled and focused his attention on the last twenty minutes of the movie, letting her sleep against him. It seemed so intimate, to be curled up on her bed with her, knowing that she felt comfortable enough to fall asleep against his shoulder. It was nothing like the passion that had taken them over the night before, when he'd been willing to get her naked the second she'd dragged her fingers through his hair. This was different, and it felt as good, if not better, as the waves of lust that had overwhelmed him on their date.

When the movie finished, he enjoyed her presence a little while longer before moving swiftly, enough to wake her without startling her. She opened her eyes and looked at him, a sleepy but serene expression in her eyes.

"Hey Sleeping Beauty, enjoyed your nap?" He wanted to sound flirty, but the words came out of his mouth much more gentle than expected, and she smiled as she rubbed her eyes.

"I did. You're very comfy," she added, and he laughed at that.

"Well I'm glad I could be of help. I'm sorry I woke you, it's just, it's pretty late so I thought I would go home and let you sleep."

He didn't want to go home, he wanted to stay with her, and talk to her, and see her smile again. But luckily for him, she seemed to have a similar thought in mind, because she whispered to him, biting her lower lip:

"Or maybe you could… stay?"

He watched her for a moment and, already imagining what it would be like to hold her against him all through the night, he nodded.