Chapter Text
Rowan crossed his arms over his chest. “ I’m telling you for the last time, this is stupid.”
Aelin feigned a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank the gods. Hearing ‘this is stupid’ over and over for the past ten minutes has gotten rather old.” Aelin elbowed her boyfriend in the side, rolling her eyes. She strode forward, knowing he’d follow her. He always did.
“But why do we have to play such a...vulgar game?” Rowan asked, catching up to Aelin. She spun around and faced him.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never done this before?” Aelin said, shaking the ancient, dusty bottle of wine her friends had sent her to unearth from the cellar. They were at Dorian’s house, an old mansion built who-knows-when, and Rowan had demanded he went with her down into the house’s bowels. Nehemia and Lysandra had shot each other knowing looks at this demand, but Aelin had remained completely stoic. Yes, perhaps Aelin and Rowan dawdled a little too long in the cellar, but, well, they were here now, weren’t they?
“Of course not. I’m a highly respectable-” he started, but Aelin waved a hand to cut him off.
“Let’s just get on with it. It’s fun. I’ve done it countless times,” Aelin said, glancing at Rowan. His eyes were alight with something Aelin couldn’t name. Frustration? Anger? Who could really say? “Jealous, eyas?” She knew that nickname-meaning baby hawk-would set him off, but before he could say anything, she announced loudly, “I got it!” Her friends’ heads swiveled toward her, smiles etched on their faces. See, Aelin wanted to tell Rowan, everyone else is already having fun. Why can’t you lighten up? But she said nothing; if Rowan wanted to have fun, he’d have to find his way there on his own. No one could convince him to but himself.
“I wouldn’t drink that if I were you,” Aelin’s cousin Aedion drawled, brushing a lock of his sun-yellow hair behind his ear.
Dorian shuddered. “If my father didn’t drink that yet, then it’s not safe for consumption.” Aelin wrinkled her nose at the mention of Dorian’s father. He was a complete asshole, and he didn’t try to hide it. I guess you can admire someone for that. They don’t beat around the bush with who they are. “Dump it into the sink.”
Aelin wandered over to the kitchen, which was next to the sitting room, where everyone was gathered. Aelin flicked her gaze toward her friends. Aedion was laying down on his stomach, head resting on his outstretched arms, reminding Aelin of Fleetfoot. Her dog was forever flopping on the ground whenever she wanted, typically on Rowan’s feet, much to his dismay. Dorian was leaning back against Chaol’s chair, his arm just barely touching her ex-boyfriend’s leg. Lysandra noticed Aelin glancing at that less-than-a-touch, and shot her an amused grin. Lysandra was always trying to get them to get together, but so far her efforts had failed.
“They have a lot of history together. Maybe something will just click someday, yeah?” Lysandra had told Aelin once, who had shrugged in response. In all honesty, them being together would be strange to see. But if that’s what made them happy, then who was she to complain? They were her friends, and she wanted them to be happy than anything.
Manon was sitting rigidly straight on an ottoman, arms crossed over her chest. Elide kept poking her in the side, trying to get her to snap out of her mood. Manon was glowering hard, but it kept wavering every few seconds, so it was only a matter of time before she broke. They were another couple Lysandra was trying to create, and Aelin helped her. At least they were getting more progress with Manon and Elide than Chaol and Dorian. Just last week Elide and Manon had gone out for coffee. Not a date, of course, but hey-it was something.
And Rowan...Rowan was being Rowan. He was leaning against a wall, his expression nearly matching Manon’s. They were similar, those two. Aelin would never want to see them break out into a fight, because she had no idea who would win. And what would be destroyed in the process.
Aelin uncorked the bottle and tipped it upside down, watching the contents pour down the drain. Gods, it smelled awful. How old was this wine? She turned on the sink with her free hand, trying to make the smell of gone-bad alcohol dissipate. “Tell me again, why does your father have so much alcohol in this house if he’s never here?” Aelin asked, raising her voice a bit to be heard over the faucet.
Dorian shrugged. “It’s one of life’s greatest mysteries, I suppose.” He spoke differently than the rest of them as a result of his schooling overseas when he was a boy, and he never dropped the accent after moving back home to attend high school and, eventually, college. It made him seem more sophisticated, but really, it made him self conscious. He always hated sounding smarter than everyone else, but no one minded. But Dorian, Aelin teased one day, just because you sound smart doesn’t mean you actually are. He only scowled at her and went back to reading.
When the last of the was wine gone, Aelin rinsed out the bottle and dried it off. Rowan pushed off from the wall as Aelin joined them in the sitting room. Aelin saw him swallow slowly. “So...how do you play this...game?” Rowan asked, his voice straining a bit at game. Aelin smirked at him. Lysandra sat on the floor and clapped her hands together, and everyone looked at her.
“Everyone sits in a circle,” Lysandra began, and Manon came to rapt attention in addition to Rowan. I guess she hasn’t played this either, Aelin thought, though it’s no surprise, considering her upbringing. Aelin felt sick just thinking about Manon’s grandmother. “Aelin will place the bottle in the center of the circle, and we each take turns spinning it.” Lysandra gestured to Aelin, and she sat down across from Lysandra. The others sat down as well, glancing each other nervously. Aelin wanted to laugh at them. It was just a game, come on! It wasn’t like they were doing...other things. She waggled her eyebrows at Rowan, whose scowl only deepened. He sat down beside her, and she purposely didn’t tell him that if he sat next to her, there’d be no chance of them kissing. “Now that we’re all here, would you be so kind as to put down the bottle, Aelin?” Lysandra asked, and Aelin obliged her. “Someone will spin the bottle, and the person at the top of the bottle will have to kiss the person the end of the bottle is pointing to. And I'm not talking about a kiss on the cheek or anywhere else. I mean a real, direct, full-on-the-lips kiss.”Aelin and Lysandra grinned wickedly at each other.
This was going to be interesting.