Chapter Text
Azriel turned down the volume when the car radio started blasting Cassian's playlist. It was his "Let's GO!" mix and Az had to deal with this every time he used the car after his brother. Normally he preferred the peace of a silent radio when he went on a drive, but he kept the background noise as an attempt to get his head straight.
He turned on his GPS and started on the way to Archeron Therapies. His knee tinged a bit as he pushed the pedal, as it had done in the weeks since he first felt the pain.
It wasn't that he didn't know how to take care of himself; he knew that it was best for the students training at Illyrian Academy if he rested so that he could get back on his feet sooner. He'd learned the hard way that pushing through pain could get you- or worse, other people- hurt. When he had sprained his ankle and refused to admit it in his first year at the academy, his body gave out while giving Rhys a leg up. Az was forced by his coach to take the week off and ice it, and it was one of the most aggravating experiences of his life. Now he wouldn't let himself do something so stupid and potentially detrimental to his team again, and risk getting one of his students hurt from his pride.
This time, Azriel was prepared to be told he had torn a tendon or some equivalent injury, but the orthopedist only told him that his X-rays were fine and there was no cure for his case. Chronic pain wasn't something Az knew how to deal with. He was in his prime and he was a coach at the Illyrian Academy- he couldn't just tell his students that his knees would hurt forever now and without good cause. Of course, his brothers took this news very seriously and made sure Azriel scheduled an appointment for physical therapy, one of the recommended treatments. Az didn't resist, knowing that it was the best way forward, but he wasn't too happy about it either. He knew how to stretch and work out his legs; physical therapy only made sense for people who weren't trainers and athletes for a living. His plan was to do the initial diagnostic appointment, assess the practice's quality and the skill of the therapists, and then make a conclusion on the bast course of action.
He pulled up to his destination and parked neatly in the lines before exiting the car, ignoring how he limped a bit upon hitting the pavement. The kawaii bat charm Rhys had put on the keys looked at Azriel with mocking enthusiasm. He huffed and headed into the building, fifteen minutes early, as planned.
He signed in with a bored receptionist who wore her hair in a crown, and who sat reading a heavy book for the rest of the time he waited. He drummed his fingers until a woman popped her head into the waiting room.
She had big brown eyes and golden brown hair pulled back into a loose braid, and wore a pale pink outfit. She couldn't have been more than twenty-five.
"Azriel?" she asked. Was it just him, or did she give him a once-over as he stood? Must've been assessing him for an injury.
"Here," he said.
"My name's Elain. I'll be treating you today. You can follow me back into room three." Azriel walked behind her, trying not to notice the slight swinging of her hips. He was supposed to be assessing the equipment around him, not the view in front of him.
She led him into a small room with a cot inside and closed the door behind them.
"How long have your knees been giving you trouble?" she asked, approaching a computer covered in stickers that said "plant mom" and messages of peace and love.
"Oh, uh...only about three weeks. The pain just started without warning, nothing I couldn't handle though."
"I see. And you were seen by Dr. Madja at the Velarian Orthopedic Center?"
"Uh, yes. She said I have patellofemoral pain syndrome."
"Ah. It's common in athletes and young women."
"Well, I'm not a young woman," he said weakly. "Not that there's anything wrong with that. You're a young woman, and you're great. You seem great. I'd love to get to know you better." God. What on earth was that?
To his endless relief, she just chuckled. "Well, I may be assigned to you, so you may be lucky. I figure you're an athlete, given your build."
"Oh, yeah, um, I'm an Illyrian Academy coach. I design and test the obstacle courses frequently."
"That makes sense. Let me have you lay down on this bed here." She patted the cot in front of them, and damn him, his mind went straight to the gutter. 𝘚𝘯𝘢𝘱 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵, he told himself, climbing onto the cot.
"If you could roll your pants legs up for me," she said as she pulled out a hinged measuring device. As Elain seemingly took the angles of his knees, Azriel did breathing exercises purely to still his mind. Why was he no better than he was as a teenager? Sure, she was beautiful, and her doe eyes were framed by long lashes just as her top hugged her petite, perfect breasts...
"And now if you could roll onto either side," she said. He cleared his throat and turned away from her, grateful for the opportunity to glance at his pants. Thankfully, he was still in the clear.
She had him lift his legs in the air while on his side, then do the same thing in multiple other positions. Any time she touched him to demonstrate form, his heart leapt. He did exercises with his students or sparred with his brothers every day; why was her touch any different? It hadn't been that long since he'd last hooked up either.
"That's all I'll have you do today," she said, turning to her computer. He once again found himself staring at her backside before she handed him a printout of stretches. "Do these every day, twice a day if you feel like it. I'd like for you to come back twice next week. What says work for you?"
Just like that, he found himself checking his calendar and booking two more appointments. Whatever happened to scoping the place out?
"That sounds like a plan. Thanks for stopping by; I can show you to the exit."
With that, he followed Elain out and wished her a nice weekend. He climbed into his car, hips aching from the stretches and knees wanting to lock. It took a bit of a fight with his own body, but he kept his foot on the pedal and drove back home. God. His brothers could never find out about this.