"You flat out just admitted you have feelings for me." For feysand please
it’s been a day. yall can suffer with me.
warnings: just some angst ~2k words
Feyre was slowly slipping away from her best friend. It seemed impossible, really, because once you were a part of Rhysand Avitas’ life, you were there indefinitely. No matter how Feyre had tried in the beginning, she hadn’t been able to shake him, ignore him, or forget him. He had a way about him truth be told. And after a while, Feyre realized she didn’t mind.
Not at all.
Because Rhys had become her best friend. True and real. The person she could talk to about just about anything. He was one of the biggest supporters in her life truth be told.
At first, Feyre hadn’t noticed it—the pull back, the avoidance, the late nights no longer shared. They were adults, fresh out of college with real jobs, real lives, real problems. So she didn’t think anything of it. Besides, she had Tamlin and Rhys had Amarantha. It wasn’t as though either of them were really alone.
But then she broke up with Tamlin. Or he broke up with her. She wasn’t really sure; all she knew was that it was over. And strangely enough—Feyre was relieved.
“So,” Mor said one night as she nursed a very full glass of wine, “he said you were the problem?”
“Yep,” Feyre replied. She didn’t go for the wine tonight, didn’t really want to. Instead, she spooned another chunk of ice cream into her mouth and sighed.
“He didn’t even try and pull a punch or two?”
Mor muttered a curse under her breath and sipped her wine.
“Yep.” Feyre took another bite of ice cream and let it melt in her mouth. It was a coconut and caramel flavor specially made from the local creamery. “Apparently, I don’t love him anymore. I have feelings for someone else.”
Mor frowned. She’d never liked Tamlin and on occasion would remind Feyre of that fact, but she always respected Feyre’s decision to stay with him.
“Seriously?” Mor asked. “The two of you have been together for almost two years, why would he think that?”
Feyre stared at her ice cream. She knew. She’d known for a long time what her feelings had been doing. Only, she hadn’t wanted to admit it. Not to herself and not to Mor.
She was in love with her best friend.
And she was an idiot for it.
“Feyre?” Mor set her wine down and shifted closer on the couch.
Laughing, because that was the only thing to do, Feyre shrugged and looked at Mor.
“I didn’t realize it until Tam said it,” she said, “but yeah. I think I’ve been in love with someone else for a while.”
Mor was impossible to read in that moment which only made Feyre feel even more miserable than she already did. She was a terrible person. Horrible. She should have broken up with Tamlin ages ago—should have realized that maybe the relationship wasn’t working out sooner.
Because really? Two years together had amounted to what? Sleepless night and stress disorders apparently. They hadn’t even moved in together. It was that discussion that had even led them to the break-up. Because Feyre had hesitated.
“Hey,” Mor said quietly. She placed a hand on Feyre’s knee and gave it a squeeze. “It’s okay. I know that look you have right now Feyre. Don’t you dare blame yourself for any of this. Tamlin didn’t deserve you. He kept abandoning you for every other thing. Of course, this relationship wasn’t going to work out if he wasn’t going to put in the effort.”
Feyre set her ice cream aside and held Mor’s hand.
“Thank-you,” she said. She didn’t know whether she deserved the sympathy or not, but she was grateful for Mor either way.
“I love you,” Mor told her, “and this is going to work out.”
Feyre hoped she was right.
Despite Mor’s best efforts—Feyre never told her who it was she had feelings for. She couldn’t. Rhys after all was Mor’s cousin. And the two of them never kept anything from each other. At all. So Feyre lived for the next few weeks with her secret.
It wasn’t that hard really, not until one Friday night where instead of going out to Rita’s the entire friend group headed over to Mor and Feyre’s apartment.
Any other time, Feyre would have been glad to have all her friends in one place especially given how long it had been since they’d all been together. But then Rhys appeared with Amarantha tucked against his side.
It was a slap in the face. Though, Feyre knew she shouldn’t have been surprised. They were stronger than ever it seemed. Happy. In love.
Amarantha barely spared Feyre a glance as she got a drink and headed to the living room where Cassian and Tarquin were already setting up a poker game. Feyre’s grip tightened on her beer as the other woman passed. She unfortunately couldn’t say anything about her dislike for Amarantha. Because if she did, it would mean Rhys might not come by as much and Feyre didn’t think she could take that.
“Feyre,” Rhys’ voice was soft beside her and Feyre felt a shiver race up her spine when she looked at him. His black hair, tan skin, bright eyes. He was beautiful.
“Rhys.” It felt like ages since she’d seen him and Feyre couldn’t help the way she smiled or the way her heart thudded just a little quicker. Call her a fool, call her misguided. She just couldn’t help it, no matter how hard she tried.
“How’ve you been?” Rhys asked as he fixed a drink for him and Amarantha. “I don’t see Tamlin here.”
“Yeah, he wouldn’t be,” Feyre said dryly, “we broke-up a few weeks ago.”
She sipped her beer to wash down the words. The words weren’t sour or wrong against her tongue, just different. Unexpected. There had been a time where she’d thought Tamlin was it for her. That was before she realized her feelings for Rhysand.
Rhys blinked. “Oh. Wow. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah.” Feyre shrugged and took another long drink.
She could feel Rhys’ eyes on her. Could feel that subtle pressure and tugging on her subconscious and vying for her attention. But she couldn’t look at him. If she looked at him, she knew she would let something slip. And if she let something slip, there would be no going back.
Instead, Feyre jutted her chin toward Amarantha. “Your girlfriend seems to be looking for you.”
The woman in question was indeed watching the both of them as she barely paid attention to what Cassian was saying. Amarantha had never liked Feyre. The feeling was mutual. There had always been something about her…something cold and cruel. But Rhys was enamored with her. And because Feyre was a terrible human being—it felt like a knife digging into her gut every time she saw the two together.
“She didn’t want to come tonight,” Rhys admitted quietly. “I guess her friends were headed to Hybern for a party. And well. Here we are.”
He slipped away then and went to Amarantha’s side while Feyre finished her beer before grabbing a stronger drink.
As the night progressed, so did Feyre’s discomfort. She’d managed a few solid hours when she bowed out of another round of poker and headed out onto the balcony, desperate for an escape. Thankfully because of the strange layout of the apartment, the balcony was closer to the kitchen and not the living. It provided Feyre the privacy she wanted.
So in the cool night air, she leaned against the railing and stared over the back half of the city. She’d long loved Velaris and had found a little home here. But lately, she was wondering if it was even worth sticking around. Maybe she should be like Elain and Lucien and travel the country. They seemed to be enjoying their travels.
A break would be good. Nice even. Maybe even just focus on herself.
The sliding door opened behind Feyre and she braced herself for whoever decided it their duty to come and codle her. Probably Cassian.
It was Rhys. Feyre bit off a curse and didn’t turn to him. She couldn’t. She had no idea what would come out of her mouth if she did.
Running a hand through her hair, Feyre finally looked over her shoulder at him.
“Hey,” she said, managing a half smile. She was grateful she’d stopped drinking after the first round of poker otherwise she was certain she’d regret her life choices for the night.
He came up beside her and held out a water bottle for her. Feyre accepted and took a long drink.
“You should go back inside before Amarantha blows a gasket,” Feyre said.
“She’s fine,” Rhys said.
Feyre shot him a look. “Please Rhys, the woman hates me. She’ll be stomping out here any second blaming me for seducing you.”
That was amusing actually. Feyre seducing him. Because she knew that Rhys didn’t look at Feyre like that. And she was actually kind of intrigued by the idea of a face-off with the woman. Chuckling to herself, Feyre took another drink of water. That would actually be pretty hilarious. Watching Amarantha in full fury could be amusing. And terrifying. It definitely wouldn’t be good for the woman to come out here.
“Nah she won’t,” Rhys said. He bumped her shoulder. “C’mon. She knows we’re friends and you’re obviously going through a hard time.”
“I know how to take care of myself,” Feyre said, bristling slightly. Maybe there was a little too much alcohol still running through her. “And I am fine.”
“Liar.” Rhys rolled his eyes.
“Rhys,” she said, facing him fully now, “you’re the last person I want to talk to right now.”
She could see the exact moment his face fell and the little bit of pain washed over his expression. He hid it well with a subtle shift to his stance, a tilt of his chin, scratch to his nose.
“I’m just trying to help,” he murmured.
“I don’t need it,” she insisted. “I’ve been fine the last few weeks and I’ve been fine the last few years. It’s not so hard to get over someone you don’t love, y’know. What is hard is when you have to watch someone you do love live their life completely oblivious to everything else around them.”
She knew the second the words came out of her mouth that she needed to take them back. She was an idiot. A fool. And apparently tipsier than she realized. Here she was spewing out every little thing that came to mind. Like a cauldron damned idiot.
“What?” Rhys asked.
“It’s nothing Rhys,” she stepped back, trying to put as much distance between the two of them as possible. Her back hit the railing behind her far too soon. “Just go back inside.”
“You flat out just admitted you have feelings for me,” he said, not letting her escape that easily.
“I’m drunk.” It was a weak excuse, but she needed something, anything to get her out of this situation.
“It’s been an hour since your last drink,” Rhys said. Damn him.
“I can’t do this right now. We can’t do this,” she murmured. And even in the dim light of the balcony light wavering overhead, she could see the intense spark of his violet eyes.
Before he could respond, the sliding door of the balcony opened and Amarantha appeared.
“Baby, it’s getting late,” the other woman drawled. “I have an early morning tomorrow.”
Rhys, blessedly, turned away from Feyre to face his girlfriend. His girlfriend.
“Yeah, let me give you a ride home,” he said.
Amarantha waited until Rhys moved away from Feyre and back to the door. As he stepped back into the apartment, he shot one final look at Feyre and then left.
Slumping against the balcony railing, Feyre exhaled slowly. Oh she had screwed up. She had so undeniably screwed up and there was no way to crawl her way out of this one.
as always, i so, so appreciate y'all for reading and for your support.
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