Chapter Text
Summertime in Velaris was hot. Sweltering, humid, no relief to be found, hot.
Normally, the heat could be avoided by the air conditioning in every building, in every car, but this afternoon, my unit had decided to die out and I had no money to pay a repairman to come and fix it until Friday. So that meant sleeping naked with what little relief my ceiling fan can give me.
I had arrived home from an overnight guard shift at the gallery to an apartment that was well over 80 degrees. One look at my window unit told me that there was no way I could fix it myself. It had been working overtime against the summer heat and it shouldn’t have been a surprise to me that it decided to die right in the middle of the hot season.
Too tired to care until later, I stripped out of my polyester uniform, leaving it on the ground and collapsed onto my bed, kicking the sheets and covers completely off.
A sweaty, restless sleep soon claimed me, heat pressing in from every direction. Sweat soaked the sheet below me, matting down the hair on the nape of my neck. Somehow, despite the heat, darkness pulled me under.
Until the sound of a lock clicking open yanked me to consciousness.
My heart leaped into a thundering pound. Someone was breaking into my shitty, wrong side of town apartment.
I cursed myself for not investing in a stronger lock, something to keep out would-be intruders.
My bedroom door was closed, giving me a split second to decide.
My robe
or my sword.
Clattering on the other side of my wall drove me into action.
Grabbing the sword I had bought on a whim at a renaissance festival years ago (and had since kept by my bedside) I unsheathed it, letting the whine of steel fill me with courage.
With one final breath to steady me, I gripped the hilt in one hand and the door handle with the other.
No one fucks with my safety or my paintings.
I yanked the door open, a battle cry like those from the movie Sparta spilling from my lips, and used the momentum from the door to propel myself forward into the living room.
A large black and red shape was all I was able to take in before I swung my sword at them.
The intruder let out a yelp as it collided with their side, the dull edge (it was only for show, not actual killing) was as good as a battering ram that sent them to the floor.
I gripped the hilt with both hands now and raised the sword over my shoulder, ready to deliver another blow should the intruder try to attack me. I wasn’t the type of person to beat someone while they were clearly down but I would take no chances.
That was when the big lettering on the back of their shirt came into focus.
Velaris Fire Department
The fiery rage in my veins turned into a frigid sludge.
The frozen sludge turned into red hot embarrassment as the fireman looked up at me.
In all my sweaty, naked, panicked glory, he took me in with wide, violet eyes framed by black lashes.
His mouth was open in shock, stretching the skin along those Greek god-like cheekbones taut.
“Fuck.”
The word escaped our mouths at the same time.
Mine was one of horror.
His was one of… awe? Not anger like I expected. Or surprise which would have made sense.
Had I not been already flushed from the heat and adrenaline; I would have turned beet red at that sweeping gaze.
I don’t blame him for looking. He had just been attacked by a crazy, naked woman with a sword. Humans are just not meant to look away from train wrecks.
My mouth opened and closed with probably a good impression of a fish on dry land.
“Your landlord let me in so I could inspect your fire extinguisher,” he said, still not breaking his gaze with me. The words were quiet, distant, like he was not trying to scare off a wounded animal.
“Ah.” Was all I managed before I promptly turned on my heel, walked into my room, and shut my door with a gentle click.
ALL YOU COULD SAY WAS ‘AH’. ANYTHING WOULD HAVE BEEN BETTER THAN FUCKING ‘AH’.
I needed to go back out there and apologize. Apologize to the very nice, very attractive, fireman that was just trying to do his job before he got attacked by a naked, crazy lady. Every time I thought about it, the situation just became worse.
In the calmest manner I could muster, I returned the sword to its sheath and swung my robe over my shoulders.
Standing before the door that would make me face my mortification, I stuck my arms into the sleeves and firmly tied the waist closed.
As opposed to ripping the door open like before, I swung it open slowly, trying to be as non-threatening as I could. This poor man will have nightmares for months.
Stepping out, I could see he had not moved from the floor in the thirty seconds I had disappeared, shock still written across his features.
With as smooth and pleasant voice I could manage, I said, “Sorry about that, my landlord failed to inform me that they would be doing inspections.” The words felt stiff and formal in my mouth, but they were better than fucking ‘ah’.
The man whispered a small sounding, “I’m sorry,” and then slightly louder, “He told me that no one was home. I should have knocked.”
I grimaced. Typical of Gabe to not care or pay attention to his tenants. “Yeah, he does that sometimes.”
The man then got up from the floor. Before I had knocked him to the ground, all I could tell was that he was bigger than me. Now I could see that he stood well over six feet and outweighed me by almost fifty pounds of solid muscle. I had knocked this mass of a man to the ground with nothing than a cheap sword and my adrenaline. A man, who on a regular basis, probably walked into raging fires and back out again unscathed and carrying victims.
He must had read as much on my face because it was his turn to blush a deeper red and look away, scratching the back of his neck. He mumbled something I couldn’t hear before turning away.
“Um, sorry?”
“Where do you keep your fire extinguisher?”
“Oh,” I forced myself to walk on steady legs to my tiny kitchen, “Under the sink,” prying the small door open. I backed away, giving him the space to do the job he came here for.
The fireman had followed me and knelt on the ground in front of the cabinets. I watched from the corner of my eye. He pulled it out and fiddled with it for a few minutes, making checkmarks on the clipboard he brought with him and must have retrieved while my back was turned.
Those two minutes had to be the longest of my life, save for the seconds of what I have now dubbed The Incident.
When he was done, he replaced it and closed the cabinet, rising to his full height.
Up close, I could see that his eyes were a deep blue, not the original violet I thought they were, but they did have grayish-silver flecks in them.
I realized I was staring and averted my gaze. What happened today was enough embarrassment to last me a month. A year. The rest of my life.
“Um,” came from his mouth, “You have a good swing,” he mumbled.
“What? For a girl?” I couldn’t stop the barb escaping from my mouth. My shame was now turning into anger. Not at the poor fireman, but at my shitty landlord for not giving me a heads up.
“Oh! Uh, no—no,” he stuttered out, “Just like, in general.” He was now scratching the back of his neck again, looking away.
“Oh,” I said lamely. What else could I say to the hot fireman that I just beat the shit out of and gave him lifelong, psychological trauma?
“I’m Rhysand, by the way,” he offered a small piece of normalcy.
“Feyre. I’m sorry again for… before,” I couldn’t bring myself to say it.
“For bringing me down with spectacular sword moves?” a hint of humor entering his voice.
I jolted a bit at that, “Um, yeah.” I couldn’t look him in the eye. Just let me die here and now.
“Well, I promise not to tell anyone if you promise not to tell the others at the station, they’d never let me live it down.”
I swung my head back towards him, meeting his gaze. He was offering me an easy out, one I certainly hadn’t earned.
My mouth twisted into a wry grin, “I think I can promise that.” At the sight of my timid but friendly smile, he returned it with a quirk of his lips. My gaze flickered to them and then away, mentally cursing at myself for even daring a glance.
He must have registered the quick movement because the next words out of his mouth were, “Well, I have a few more inspections to do, but I doubt they’ll be as exciting as this one.”
Somehow, a chuckle burst from my chest, joined by his own.
“No, they probably won’t be.”
He then pulled a card from his chest pocket, offering it to me, “If you ever have any problems with your fire extinguisher, give me a call. And if you don’t…” his eyes swept over my robed body, “Give me a call anyways.”
I took the card with surprisingly steady fingers, his brushing mine.
“I’ll be sure to do that.”