A/N: So this chapter was meant for Valentine's Day, but sadly it's late, which is not surprising considering I started it that night for me. But I got there in the end, so I hope you enjoy it. :)
Rose looked over at him expectantly with a sweet grin. "Do you know what day Tuesday is?"
Frowning slightly, Blake considered. "What do you mean? I don't keep up with the mundane calendar, but-"
"It's Valentine's day, silly," Rose sang excitedly, clasping her hands in front of her. "Which means we need to celebrate."
"Valentine's day?" he repeated, giving her a confused look. "What's that?"
"Oh, only the most romantic day on earth," Rose replied, dreamily. "I can't believe you don't know- well, actually I can, since you're from the Unseelie Court and all, but still. Everyone knows about it. It's that one day of the year when people, couples in particular, express their love for each other by giving flowers or chocolates, or sending greeting cards. It's all about showing the ones you love how you feel, and making it special."
"That seems like a lot for one day," he remarked, trying to imagine it. "What do you do, exactly?"
"I'll write you out a list of things to do to prepare," Rose chirped. "We have to make it special, since it's our first Valentine's together as a couple. It's predicted to be a full moon, isn't that romantic?"
He didn't see how the night werewolves were out prowling was romantic, but he kept his mouth shut, watching her excitement in amusement.
Spinning around so that her dress fanned out around her, Rose then walked over to him, her eyes alight. "But the most important thing is that I get to see you, okay?" she said, reaching out to curl a hand around his arm. "Promise me you'll be there?"
Blake had never realised that mundanes had such serious traditions. Such regimented traditions were usually reserved for the fae, and it was a surprise for him to learn that mundanes might have something similar.
Reaching into his pocket, he took out the small piece of paper smoothing it out as he read it again. Rose's neat, cursive handwriting filled the page with steps for the preparation of Valentine's Day.
The first step had been to book a restaurant for dinner. They'd decided a mundane one would be best, since Rose preferred to avoid the Towns. Apparently, it was important to book seats, as it was a busy night of the year, she'd told him.
Stopping outside the restaurant, he felt a little out of place, checking to make sure his glamour was still working and hiding his wings. Then he pushed inside, and was quickly greeted by a waiter. He cleared his throat, wondering how to word it. "I'd like to book a table," he started, avoiding eye contact in his embarrassment, "For tomorrow night."
The waiter tapped his pen against a clipboard, glancing at a list. "Oh, Valentine's night. That's pretty booked up, but we still have a couple of tables left." He shifted his gaze to Blake, studying him. "Where would you prefer to sit? In a booth near the back, or near the window where there's a view of the water?"
Blake froze, trying to decide what to choose. Rose had been very specific about everything she wanted, except for where they should sit. If he was picking for himself, he'd just go for the quiet and more private booth seat at the back, but he wanted her to be happy, and would she prefer the view to the quiet?
Feeling at a loss, he went with the view, feeling like it might be something she'd like. She always did like pretty things, and being the centre of attention. Hoping it was the right choice, he gave his name for the booking, before walking outside again with a sigh in relief. He felt a lot of pressure to make the whole Valentine's Day thing perfect. Rose had been so excited about it, and he couldn't bear to let her down.
The second step on the list had been for him to find a suit to wear. Apparently, it was going to be a formal evening. It was strange walking into a shop and getting measured for size. He was used to wearing practical clothes, more suited to comfort than style. He'd have nowhere else to wear it really, but he guessed it would be easy to sell again afterwards. Then again, he reconsidered, he'd need to cut slits in the back for his wings, so that idea probably wouldn't work so well.
Luckily, the shopkeeper helped to recommend what would look best – a dark grey suit that would apparently help to 'complement his eyes' – and he bought it quickly, happy to get out of the place.
Last on the list – to be done on the day - was unsurprisingly, buying flowers. They did happen to be one of Rose's favourite things. He stopped in at a florist on the way, looking around at the rows upon rows of flowers. She'd specified red roses, and it was easy for him to pick them out. Especially since all the mundanes were crowding around them. He studied the options, wanting to pick some nice ones.
Finding a bunch of nice looking roses wrapped in a pretty pink tissue paper, he picked it up, walking over to pay for it. It all seemed a bit over the top. Mundanes needed a day to show their feelings? It was all strange and foreign to him, but it felt important that he make it special.
His lips curved up in a slight smile.
Rose's excitement would definitely be enough of a reward.
Going to the shops that day hadn't been the best idea.
Every store Steff went into was decorated with love hearts and cupids and pink streamers, and it was a little overwhelming. Chocolates and flowers were placed strategically at the entrances, and she looked away from a couple picking flowers together.
Sighing, she left the shop quickly, unable to help but feel disheartened. Cole would think Valentine's day was a stupid mundane tradition. He'd probably call it cheesy and overly sentimental. And he'd say she was soft and that she'd read too many romance novels and fairy tales, just for thinking about it.
The thing was, Valentine's Day wasn't all about gifts and cliché things like that. Just spending time with someone you cared about was a lovely thought in itself. And why couldn't there be a day to celebrate love?
Really, it was best not to dwell on things too long, and she bit her lip, focusing on staring ahead. Her gaze caught on a quaint book shop at the corner of the street. She didn't even need to think about it, her feet instinctively moved her there. Staring in through the window, it was hard not to notice the large section set up with romance novels. Seeing a couple of her favourites, she pondered walking in and buying one. She knew what her parents would say about her wasting money on books, but they couldn't control her life anymore, and she started inside.
Since she'd been in such a rush to leave London, she wasn't able to bring all her favourite books from the Institute library with her, nor would she have been able to fit them all in her bag. One she'd missed in particular was Pride and Prejudice, and she was quick to pick it off the shelf, running her hand against the cover reverently. Valentine's Day was a fitting time to read it again, and she found herself looking forward to it. Flipping through the pages, she inhaled the new book smell, giving a faint smile, before walking over to the cash registers to pay.
Back on the streets with a book in hand this time, she felt a little better, with a plan for the evening. Her calm was destroyed, however, when she looked up, seeing a flash of familiar pale blonde hair and dark brown eyes walk off in the distance. Taking a startled breath, she hurried after him, her heart hammering in her chest in nervousness.
"Cole-" she started, catching his arm, before freezing, her expression paling. "Oh, sorry," she said, turning away and inwardly berating herself. Of course it wouldn't be him. He didn't even look like that anymore, with the enchanted glove. It was more like seeing a ghost from the past.
Swallowing, she continued back towards the Institute, trying to silence her thoughts. They weren't helpful, and she didn't need them today of all days.
As she turned the corner, a Latin phrase rolled around in the back of her mind, from her days studying the language.
Amor animi arbitrio sumitur, non ponitur.
We choose to love, we do not choose to cease loving.
"I hope you're not going easy on me," Caspian frowned, keeping his stance low and careful.
His forehead glistened with sweat, and his muscles were tense and sore, but he loved it, the feel of a fight, even if it was only training. The adrenaline was addictive, and he doubted he'd ever be the first to tire in a fight. Looking over at Aspen, he blocked his attempt at a strike, keeping him at a distance with his staff. He couldn't help it, the way his lips curved up into a sudden hint of a smile, and he found it impossible to stay frowning for long, his concentration focused elsewhere.
"I'm not. But you're very distracting," Aspen grinned, adjusting his grip on his two swords, before circling him again.
Caspian merely rolled his eyes, not letting himself get distracted by Aspen's comments. It had taken a lot of convincing to get Aspen to practice with him, although he'd expected that after past conversations. It was always good to have someone well trained to fight with though, to keep his skills sharp.
They'd been fighting like that for a while, their technique getting messier, and their grips slacker over time, but they kept going. It was interesting, studying Aspen when he fought. The way he moved, and his techniques with his swords. It became hard to take his eyes off him.
"Come on, Cas, this could take all night," Aspen said, as he suddenly launched forward. He tossed his swords to the ground, ducking under his staff to try and pull him to the ground as well. Caspian discarded his staff to the side, in favour of tussling with him on the ground. As Aspen tugged him down, they hit the ground. The grass only helped to soften their fall a little bit, and Caspian's breath was knocked out of him, not that he cared much.
He half laughed and half wheezed, as they tumbled along the ground, Aspen being careful of his wings. As they finally came to a stop, Caspian managed to gain the upper hand, pinning Aspen down to the ground triumphantly.
"I win," he stated, a glint in his silver eye as he stared down at him, both of them breathing hard.
"Like I said, you were dist-" Aspen started to say, but having a sudden, crazy urge, Caspian leaned down to cut him off, suddenly pressing his lips against Aspen's.
There was a hunger and a wildness to his kiss, and Aspen responded in kind, his hands snaking up to wrap around his middle, drawing him closer.
One of his hands tangled in Aspen's hair, while he used the other to brace against the ground, and he closed his eyes, a moan at the back of his throat. He was sure he must smell of sweat and grass, but it didn't matter in that moment, his thoughts a confusing mess. It was hot, much hotter than it should be, and his cheeks felt flushed.
Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered the howls of some werewolves in the distance, and the fact that it was getting darker, the clearing only lit by the full moon. He'd never been afraid of the dark, though. In fact, he welcomed it with open arms.
"Now, that was unexpected," Aspen murmured against his lips. Aspen's fingers moved to brush his side where a bit of skin was exposed from under his shirt, and everything was still so surprising and new. Laughter threatened to bubble forth from his lips, and he felt like he was drunk on something, but what exactly, he wasn't sure.
"Aspen-" he breathed, opening his eyes, and pulling back a little to study him. The silvery gold flecks around his eyes seemed to sparkle in the moonlight.
"What?" Aspen asked intently, and it seemed as if he was holding his breath. "What is it?"
With a wild laugh, he rested his forehead against Aspen's for a moment. "Nothing," he said after a pause, finally rolling off him, hoping Aspen's wings weren't too squished. Moving carefully onto his back, he looked up at the stars.
"You know I hate it when you don't finish sentences," Aspen replied, sounding disappointed, as he adjusted so his wings were more comfortable. Then he followed his gaze up to the stars.
"I don't even know what I was going to say," he responded slowly with a shrug. "I just felt…" He paused, as if struggling to come up with a suitable word for it. "…Content," he decided upon, finally.
Aspen smiled slightly, glancing over at him in surprise. "Content? That's good, I'm glad to hear that. I didn't think it was a word you'd ever use."
"It just sounds weird," he laughed, resting his head back against his hands. "But sometimes I say stupid things."
"Feel free to say all the stupid things you want. I'll always listen," Aspen replied, sounding amused. "We both have that problem." Giggling as he watched him, Aspen reached a hand over to brush some grass out of his blonde hair. He then ran his hand along Caspian's arm, before reaching his hand, and entwining their fingers, in a gesture Caspian was well accustomed to now.
They fell into a comfortable silence as he pondered the stars and the full moon. There were many things he wished he could say, and many things he was glad he didn't say, and it was all so confusing.
But he felt… content. There it was again, that strange, elusive word. He'd never thought about it much in the past, and now it kept appearing in his head randomly. It wasn't something that fit people like him. It wasn't something they usually felt, much less deserved to feel.
Laughing under his breath at himself and his strange thoughts, he settled back and relaxed, the familiar calming peppermint scent on the breeze.