Forum Thread

Setting: High School Ball; Time: 8:35, 5 Minutes After The Ball Began; The Ball, Where Icarus And Aelin Meet;

xxxxxxIt was any normal dance for Icarus Flare, the young transfer student quite used to the requirement of very formal clothing. He wore what he usually did to these sorts of fancy events: a striking red tuxedo with a few gold designs put over a white shirt and a crimson bow tie, paired with a pair of black slacks and black dress boots, which reached about an inch above his ankles. His "friends" stood against a wall, each one holding a scarcely dressed girl against his side. All but one, who had taken an interest in the sizable punch bowl. His hands cradled something in each pocket of his jacket. Icarus was any normal high school student, if not for his height and hunger for knowledge. Already, he could speak English fluently, his second language. And he could easily guess that, despite this boy being his "friend," the two objects in his pockets were bottles of alcohol. Icarus nearly cussed to himself, his hands twitching in an urge to speak in their own language: sign. Mentally kicking himself into motion, Icarus started towards the snack table himself, glaring at the boy spiking the punch every few moments. His long legs carried him quickly, something he was thankful for. As he approached the table with the punch, he watched to other boy leave quickly. Icarus was no fool, and he was nobody to piss off, especially here. School was his natural environment, as he'd quickly leapt at the chance to leave Iceland and find a larger, better school. But now, here he was. A massive, beautiful school. Filled with fools and pricks, jerks and bullies. It was sad, really. Eyeing the punch bowl with some intent to kill, Icarus kicked the back of his own shoe. The fake trip set him sprawling, narrowly avoiding another nearby table before striking the punch bowl's table with his shoulder. As the table shuddered from the impact and slid, the punch bowl started to tip, overbalancing quickly and crashing to the ground with a crash. Icarus, of course, reached out in a false attempt to stop it. His fingers, of course, missed the glass container and allowed the corrupted contents to splash across the ground. Soon enough, Icarus found two of his "friends" looming over him, offering a hand each to help the large boy up. Accepting the hands, he simply muttered, "Tripped on a table." At that, he started for the edge of the room. He no longer wanted to be here. They had claimed it would be fun. They had claimed it would be exciting. They had claimed he may find a dance. But no, all those that showed themselves were the same. Fake faces and facades, hiding ugly faces with too much makeup and only flaunting the few attractive traits they had.

𝔞 𝔢 𝔩 𝔦 𝔫 .

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ xxx 𝚘𝚗𝚎. xxx▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ Clothed in a dress of silken night and silvery sequins, a lone shadow of a student watched the menagerie of the school's social elite waltz on the dance floor. Her expression was of detached interest, or as one might say, 'considerable boredom.' Rarely, if ever, did Aelin find herself at such a lack of mental stimulation. Needless to say, this was not a situation that she enjoyed. Her mind was sharp, and so was she. The shadow saw how empty and heart-less the ball was, so she made no effort to participate. They danced to show that they could dance, and spent money to show their wealth. The fae sighed, her left hand absently swirled the chalice of wine, its sweet aroma faintly wafting toward her as she teased the carmine liquid. Of course, she had no intention of actually drinking it, despite the night's efforts to draw her into its endless embrace; it seemed to drag on in either direction with no finite end. Hence why she had the urge to knock back a glass or two of alcohol. But she didn't. It was going to be a long night, and these socialite hours could be downright dreary. But the fae was patient, and she resolved to wait the next fourty five minutes. She highly doubted anyone would be asking for help, but apparently you were required to stay if you were one of the people who had arranged this upper-crust affair. Just one of the many insufferable things that were to be endured in this life of hers. Silently brooding, the fae kept her thoughts to herself, even as her eye wandered around the gilded golden glyphs and other extravagant little sworls of ink and paint that gracefully adorned the walls of the ballroom.

But, please take into consideration how little Aelin knew of social gatherings. It was utter hell sometimes to deal with the whims of people. She loathed crowds because they were loud, drowning out her thoughts, pushing her into an ocean of sound. And people? Don't get her started. In a world where nothing was as it seemed, like it was here, Aelin was certain that social interactions became nothing more than a nuisance. Her words never flowed right, tossed and turned within a turbulent sea, roiling incessantly. Speaking became meaningless, and as such, she almost never spoke at all. Save the time and effort for something that truly mattered. Many things put Aelin off to her classmates. They eyed her warily, as if she was never quite human, like she was other. They could call her "weird" or "odd" all they wanted, it wasn't a title that bothered. She chafed against her classmates like the sea's salty waters rasped against the land. Aelin liked to stay in the shadows, to inter-weave in darkness. Shadows curled lustily around her being, hiding her from view. Even her dress, which covered up all parts of her body, left everything up to imagination. The fabric was darker than night and so soft that it felt like a second skin. One of Daenerys no doubt, since her sister had asserted that should Aelin be going to prepare the ball, she might as well look the part. Enigmatic, and mysterious; haunted by a silence that seemed to have pervaded her very soul, leaving her silent like a tomb.

Aelin hadn't strayed from her little nook in the back of the room since coming in, her eyes lazily sweeping the room with no clear target in mind. She eyed the scarce dresses and gaudy makeup of the other girls, and rolled her eyes in disgust. 'What a shameful way to present yourself. it's like those sleazy girls have no sense of modesty." a voice hissed near her ear, low and menacing. She acknowledged the strange voice without so much as a beat of surprise where others might have shown alarm, letting her shadows' voice fade into thin air. Aelin loved her shadows, hateful and brooding as they were. They were like her, a mystery, disembodied yet eternally present. This one in particular, the one that had spoken to her, They were the only tolerable one. The others were absolute bastards. I agree. Aelin mentally replied to her shadow. This happens more than you think.

The fae was jolted out of her thoughts, rather roughly in fact, when one of the students slammed into the table holding the punch bowl, bringing it down with a colossal crash. What a clumsy little bastard, with legs too big for his body. She could hear her shadows growling in disapproval and hauteur, the rumbling like faraway thunder in her ears. Well, clumsy and with some clear talent at making a scene. She could feel her lips tugging upwards as they attempted to form a sarcastic smile, but she kept them firmly straight as she tore her eyes away from the scene, fixating once again on the idly dancing figures, grinding and thrusting to the beat of the feverish music; quite unaware that her icy gaze could be seen as invitation for the poor bastard limping away from the shattered punch bowl.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ xxx 856. xxx▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Time: 8:37, 7 Minutes After The Ball Began; The Ball, Where Icarus And Aelin Meet;


xxxxxxIcarus wiped his nose, assuring the forceful impact had not bloodied it in any matter. Lowering his hand to gaze at it, his eye was drawn to something unusual, something that seemed to blend, yet stick out like a thumb as sore as his tailbone. As he glanced towards the mysterious aura, the feeling that fixated on him so mercilessly, he stuttered to a halt. Clothed in shadows, like a Goddess of Death, there stood one he hardly knew. Her name, Aelin. He knew that much. However, her entirety was a mystery to him, her face only inciting his curiosity as her chilling gaze settled upon him. He stared for a long, possessive moment, each millisecond clinging to his mind like water to a ship. As he awoke once more, he found his stride smaller, even nervous, though carrying him towards this mysterious beauty, this Goddess of Death. His mind moved faster than his pace, though most things likely could do so. Each step carried him closer, though whether it was to his brutal fate or blissful future, he was unsure.


xxxxxxHe found himself standing a few feet away, his breath calmed, though short. His voice, though quiet, reached out to Aelin. "Good Evening, My Lady." He gave a slight bow, simply out of habit. His family had told him to be respectful to all who he met. His own studies had lead him to a habit of bowing to those who he greeted. Nobody had yet told him that it was not the norm. Perhaps they enjoyed the idea of being bowed to.

𝔞 𝔢 𝔩 𝔦 𝔫 .

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ xxx 𝚝𝚠𝚘. xxx▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ He really did look pitiful, body folded over his too long legs like a deer struggling to stand, but he didn't hold her attention for long. He wasn't like her; he was clothed in sanguine and gold like the ancient emperors of the Chinese dynasties, while she stood clothed in deepest sable like a person at a funeral, highlighting her already dreary persona. But that didn't mean she felt any urge to change it. She narrowed her eyes curiously, reading his countenance like a book; trying to find emotion or motive there and finding only curiosity. He had much finer features than her, sweeter with a hint of childlike grace. Any of Aelin's grace was hardly visible in her face or her dress, her face seemingly carved out of cold and rugged stone. Still, he gazed upon her like she was a god descended from heaven. Yeah, right. Funny to think that anyone could think so grandly of her. His gaze was firm and unyielding, drawing a small flush of color onto her ears, unconsciously tilting her own head to match. His gaze was strong and fixated on her, and it was very nearly possessive. She made no move toward him, choosing again to remain stationary, and it seemed the spell was fleeting - though she could say that others could envy her for that brief feeling of time splitting past them, like water rushes past a river. He looked upon her like it was his last, with an undeniable aura of wonder. She turned her attention away from him for the time being, going back to stirring that glass of fine red wine she would never drink.

It was with some measure of surprise that she let him approach, dazed as if he'd just woken from bed, and much more nervous now. Funny, how he seemed to lack the confidence of his peers, yet he approached her without an ounce of hesitation. Truly an interesting fellow, even if he did seem to eclipse her some in height, as most males did. Aelin was still growing into her size, she had long legs and an erect bearing, and came in at a healthy 5'8. She gave him a stoic glance, slightly cocking her left eyebrow as he regarded her; allowing herself the quietest of scoffs when he bowed to her and greeted her like a queen. Damn the nobility and their pompous mannerisms. So ridiculous. His voice was as sweet as his countenance, smooth tones whispering on her ears. Aelin had no idea what exactly this one wanted with her; the fact that he had the goddamn balls to approach her was shocking enough. "Don't tell me that you find him cute." Her shadows growled, voice laced with disapproval. "He's just a boy. Since when have you found a boy cute—"

Shut up. Aelin growled back mentally. Feeling her shadows shut up finally, she thought of a response to say. It would be better to keep her walls up, especially if she was talking to a stranger who had approached her for whatever goddamn reason. A being of few words, she merely inclined her head to the male, as if to say good evening back. However, there had to be a reason for this conversation, and finding no way to convey it mutely, she reluctantly deigned to say something.

"Do you need something from me. . ." Her voice was smooth as night, though a bit darker in timbre than might have been expected. She fished around in her head for his name. As far as recognition went, he was the newest transfer student, right? Honestly, she'd never cared to go around introducing herself to everyone. What did he call himself? Ah-

"Icarus?"
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ xxx 596. xxx▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Time: 8:38, 8 Minutes After The Ball Began; The Ball, Where Icarus And Aelin Meet;


xxxxxxAelin, a being of haunting beauty and stunning fright. Her voice wasn't cold, per se, but it was by no means warm. "I simply noticed your.. Glare, and I figured I might come to apologize for the breaking of the bowl." After a moment, the titan continued. "If I'm being honest, it was no accident. One of them," he threw a glare over his shoulder at his "friends," "added something to the bowl, and I couldn't bring myself to stand by and stare." At that, his stature became rather meek, suddenly tired. The day seemed to only now catch up to him. The relentless fools, bombarding him with invitation to the dance.. It was horrifically exhausting, and for no clear reason. Simply speaking, that was no hard duty. Saying "no" over and over might have been what triggered the exhaustion, but it was still mysterious.


xxxxxxAfter a moment, Icarus took a breath. "Though, if I might, may I.." He trailed off, glancing at the ground. He seemed to be thinking over his next words, choosing them carefully. His quiet mind stirred as he found the right words. "I was wondering, Miss Aelin, if I might have a dance with you?" He made eye contact again, his eyes displaying a subtle sense of fear, mixed with a bit of courage, a pinch of excitement, and a heavy submissive sense of pseudo-pride.

𝔞 𝔢 𝔩 𝔦 𝔫 .

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ xxx 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎. xxx▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
It seemed that this unfortunate soul was well and truly smitten with her, and she mentally rolled her eyes. Well, bother. She let him drone on in the background while she stirred her wine, not intending to actually respond. That was how most of her conversations went anyway, someone talking to her while she only responded if absolutely necessary. It seemed that the shadows were feeling less peevish than usual, because Aelin could hear three of them in the background. But overall, it was quiet in her head. As if they were egging her on. She frowned at the thought; she rarely wished for their hushed voices to fill her head, but this was definitely one of those times.

Her partner was a most curious sort. Eager, yet frightened by her very essence, but that was not surprising. His voice...so patient and serene, like wind chimes blown by a fall breeze. Aelin supposed she'd become something of an enigma, with a particularly bad reputation. (Ironic because she'd done absolutely very little since she'd got here.) It had never really bothered her; it was more in her own interest to keep with herself than it was to go around shoving her peers around, much as she would like to do otherwise. Either Icarus knew very little of her, to the point where he was so pointedly unafraid of who she was, so that he would decide to take time out of his own schedule to bother her. Or was it that he simply didn't care? Aelin shook her head with a shrug, her eyes flashing chidingly when he mentioned the punch bowl. Why on earth did he think she should care? It was a mess, so what? They would just buy more. Aelin had the feeling that he was just trying to make idle conversation, and she chuckled darkly - the sound as cold as her previous speech - when he went on to mention that he felt uncomfortable at her looking at him. "What cheek." Did he actually think she cared about him? In any way?

But the brazenness from that statement was broken at his next statement. Though he seemed to perceive her as one thing - threat he offered her a place on the dance floor, offering for her to take his hand. The sheer lack of subtlety, combined with the ... rather bold look in his eyes suddenly bubbled up in the most unexpected way. Past her lips came a cackle, though there was no mirth in the sound as it crackled like a fire. It echoed in the space between them, gnashing like claws. Oh, of all the absurd suggestions! Dance, with him?

"Dance with you?" Aelin growled once she'd collected herself once more, her eyes stony yet with the faintest spark of challenge. But he didn't back down from that, his eyes flashing in the gloom, "Oh, you've got some goddamn nerve, huh. Fine, I appreciate you taking the time for a minx, as I am. If you want to dance with me however, —" She shot a distasteful, venemous glance backwards at the dance floor, at all the students prancing there like running deer "You'll have to drag me out there. If you can't master up the guts..." She leaned back against the wall, swirling the chalice of red wine, "You'll have to find another partner, because I won't be interested."
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ xxx 564. xxx▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Time: 8:342, 12 Minutes After The Ball Began; The Ball, Where Icarus And Aelin Meet;


xxxxxxAelin's speech was shocking, even Icarus had to admit. Drag her out to the floor, hm? Icarus gave a slight cheeky grin, his lips parting to make way for his next words. "I'll take that as a challenge, Miss Aelin." His hand was still extended, as if daring her to take hold and join in his challenge. "Unless, of course, you're not as fearless as you supposedly are..." He raised an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing in his anticipation for her next motion. It was a dare, plain and clear. He was daring her to partake.


xxxxxxSuch a dare as tempting the devil before him with a comment of her courage was risky, even Icarus understood that. But the shift in her expression was exciting, it told the boy that something was going to happen. Though, whether Aelin was going to kick him or take his hand, he wasn't sure. That was still up to Lady Fortune.

'Damn you.'

She had thought him bold before, but now? Now, he was... just playing with her. If it wasn't his cheeky grin, one that sang with deliberate skill and attitude you'd think he'd been doing it all his life. But he hadn't, had he? She hadn't missed the irritation in his eyes when he sneered at the others, as if their very presence disgusted him. So darn relatable. Her eyes narrowed haughtily, yet his challenge sent a thrill through her, hot and wicked. He had the gall to assume that she was afraid of dancing? Yes, she hated interacting with people, preferring to confront the miserable facts of her existence in her own mind alone. He was an electric current shooting up her spine, as fine and as delicious as adrenaline. She mentally grumbled with dread at the thought of being among so many, but she had never had it in her to back down from a challenge.

Who did this arrogant minx think he was anyway, strutting up to her like a damn peacock. The sight of someone so close to her was such a foreign feeling that she took a moment of silence before she spoke. Her voice was cold, with a hint of arrogance that surprised even her, and she met his gaze with sharp steel. "That was not my question, Icarus. The question, is — are you?" She watched the other couples on the dance floor, gliding with such ease that it could have been a dream. Or a nightmare, who knows?

Her conception of reality could be so jarringly horrible this all could very well be a nightmare. If then, she could pinch herself and wake up from it, into another reality. But here's the thing, she wasn't dreaming. This was reality, a dreary simulacrum of the world around her. Perhaps, that would be the rest of her existence. All she perceived in her existence.

Could she really do it, though? Go out there, pretend she was just like every other teenager (and not someone who's very existence seemed to be a nightmare) and .. dance? Even with him? This must be something very normal to do, just being around him felt so very wrong. It was not a good feeling. Shaking her head, she took his hand and emerged from the shadows that had so dearly coddled her; literally melting out of the darkness. Despite her earlier anticipations, her body felt lighter than a bird as the full strength of the lights graced her being. Having been standing in the dark for so long, the light stung her eyes painfully, and she was forced to squint. Everything seemed ethereal and surreal, other girls and boys her age gliding like lithe swans on a sea, graced by the light that poured from the stage-lights above. So bright, compared to Aelin's dark domain. And that was another thing. Aelin had no idea how to dance, and she had never bothered to learn. Dancing took two, after all. She turned to her partner, cocking her head inquisitively, releasing him and standing tall as she waited for him to ... at least do something.

Here's the good thing about a nightmare. None of it, was real. At least, not for her.

[ four hundred fourty one ]

Time: 8:44, 14 Minutes After The Ball Began; The Ball, Where Icarus And Aelin Meet;


xxxxxxThe thrill that accompanied the acceptance of Icarus' dare was like flying, if a bit too close to the sun. His namesake came to mind, the ill-fated journey of his wax wings only adding a bit to his grin. However, what truly threw him into the lethargic collection of the dance was Aelin herself, stepping from the shadows. Indeed, though of Death as she was, this was no normal person such as Icarus or the others waltzing around the floor. This was something else entirely, the simple aura surrounding this beast, this terrifying and beautiful force of nature, was enough to say as much.


xxxxxxHolding his hand out once more, Icarus softened his smile as Aelin took it. His second hand rested carefully at her side, his nervous edge slowly melting as the lights of the floor cast the pair into such a world where nothing seemed real. A simple ballroom dance, that was what Icarus intended. Something easy to learn, in case his partner had less knowledge of it than he. Of course, this was the only dance Icarus knew at all. Square, waltz, cha cha… All of those were a mystery to him. But a ballroom dance? Why, it was only because he'd feared going to dances that he knew it. In this case, though, he knew that fear would be of no worry. Aelin's steely gaze settled on him, sending another thrill though his belly. The music slowly crept into their space, filling their ears, giving them a rhythm to follow: Icarus was ready, the only thing he awaited was Aelin's first step.

Aelin was graced, though not exactly surprised by the lithe movements of her partner, the way he turned to face her - almost fae. His touch was gentle, as if he expected his mere touch to break her. The tension in her being lightened ever so slightly, even when he took a few steps back, allowing her to set the pace before he made any sudden movements. Patient and enduring, and quite unphased by the sheer amount of people around them. She herself took them in for the first time, the sheer amount of people around her, and felt a shiver sear down her spine. Never before had she had to endure such crowded social spaces - even going to class was different, since people tended to form a wide berth the moment she appeared in the room. She only knew the name of her partner, the definition of his existence still eluded her as she gazed at him. Questions danced at the edge of her tongue, yet from the moment the music picked up, and that daring glance shot between them like fire; she banished them. Her shadows growled in anger, but she ground them to dust; tucking them into the farthest corner of her dark mind as she faced Icarus. She rarely spoke, let alone laughed, yet what he had done tonight ... he had made something that ordinary men quailed to do seem like child's play.

The music made her heart thump and race, the speed of it. Despite having little to no experience in dancing, Aelin knew almost exactly what kind of dance she wanted. Her brother, Deimos, had made sure she knew the mere basics in dancing before sending her off, and even in this stifling, unreal environment - where the various essences and consciousness of other people quashed her being like many great beasts, she came to a conclusion. An...epiphany. Let's let this night be different, because if this was a nightmare - which it was - then at least she wanted to be able to control it. Hesitatingly, as if she was utterly convinced that even touching Icarus was a sin, she put a hand on his shoulder and arm, so that when she moved, he could feel her pace. She stared unfalteringly into his startling jade visionaries, seeing such a mixture of uncertainty and adrenaline that was like her own it was funny. They were more alike than she gave them credit it seemed. In an alternate universe, where Aelin had not become so averse to the truths of this world, they could have been closer.

Now, she just had a deal to uphold. Nothing more.

She banished the rigid fettering of her own discomfort in some mental fire; ashes in the wind scattered as she, taking a deep breath, initiated the dance. Slow, yet fluid movements, one bleeding into each other. The rhythym of a foxtrot was unmistakable, even to the untrained eye, as obvious as her clear lack of formal education in dancing. Yet, she moved, and slowly with building certainty and gall, her partner joined her. The music was exhilarating, caroling into a crescendo, a fierce caterwaul she felt in her veins; the thumping of the drums and beat of the music moving her feet for her, like a marionette on strings. The noise was absolutely deafening, adding to the surreal atmosphere, yet for Aelin, she knew, suddenly, that this was how this night was going to take place. Almost inadvertently they moved in sync to the others, the colors and sounds blurring into a static haze that focused the time onto her partner and her. Never touching, never intruding upon them.

As if they'd been alone all along.

[ 581 words ]

The Dance; Where Icarus and Aelin Begin, A Startling Surrealism Around Two Souls


xxxxxxThe foxtrot carried Icarus closer to the haunting beauty he found in the event, dulling his vision to a spotlight around himself and Aelin. His fellow dancer was quick in her footwork, each step deliberate and meant, each movement a harsh scold to any dared flaws. The dance slowly picked up as they met the rhythms of the music, the notes melding into a terrifying melody as they carried themselves around their dance space. It was beautiful, truly so. Though, in the way one might find the lethality of a poison beautiful, or how sharp the claws of a tiger were beautiful.


xxxxxxIcarus found himself staring down into Aelin's own gaze, her face imprinting on his memory as something he would forever remember. It was no subtle thing, though the music was nearly halfway through with the current song that it had chosen to shout over the crowds. He knew this song, Icarus did. He remembered it, down to the very final crescendo and the lasting fade near the end. His mind threw something together quickly, matching the song in such a way that, despite his focus, he couldn't help but share a smile with himself and Aelin. A dip at the end, yes. A dip, after a spin. This would be the dance where, instead of Icarus the Titan, he might be known as Icarus, nothing more. He dared to dance with the devil, the Queen of the Darkness, and he'd hardly come to regret it thus far. Simple bliss was what hugged him, Aelin's terrifying and gorgeous face imprinted on his mind in stark contrast to the other bland thoughts of his brain.