Her fae & His fairy

Chapter 26

!THE SCENE WITH AZRIEL HANDS ARE DESCRIBES WITH CURSIVE LETTERS!

The sun dips below the horizon, casting long shadows across the serene landscape of Velaris. In Azriel's kitchen, the warm glow of hanging lanterns mingles with the fading sunlight, creating a comforting ambience. I stand amidst an array of ingredients, each carefully selected for the meal I am preparing. The rhythmic sounds of chopping and sizzling fill the air, forming a culinary symphony that usually brings a sense of peace.

However, the tranquillity shatters abruptly when the door swings open without warning. Azriel stumbles into the room, his usually graceful movements reduced to a chaotic tumble. He stands at the threshold, a stark contrast against the soft hues of the kitchen, covered from head to toe in a chilling mixture of blood and shadows. The crimson stains on his clothing bear witness to the intensity of his recent ordeal. His eyes, which are normally sharp and alert, are now clouded with an unfathomable darkness. The shadows cling to him like a sinister second skin, and his hands flex and twitch uncontrollably, betraying the turmoil within.

The abrupt entrance disrupts the peaceful atmosphere, leaving an unsettling tension in its wake. The juxtaposition of Azriel's dishevelled appearance against the backdrop of a once-tranquil kitchen creates an atmosphere charged with uncertainty and foreboding. The ingredients, momentarily forgotten, lie in disarray on the countertop as I instinctively move closer, my concern deepening at the sight of his distress.

The dim light flickers as Azriel's presence seems to cast a shadow over the room, amplifying the severity of the situation. The air, once filled with the comforting aroma of cooking, now holds a metallic tang, an unwelcome reminder of the recent violence he has endured.

As I approach, Azriel's vacant gaze shifts towards me. The shadows cling to him like ethereal tendrils, whispering secrets only he can comprehend. I place my hands on his shoulders, hoping to ground him in the present. His lack of response and the distant look in his eyes hint at a mind ensnared by haunting memories.

The contrast between the rhythmic sounds of culinary preparation and Azriel's dishevelled state heightens the surreal nature of the moment. The kitchen, once a haven of domestic normalcy, now hosts a surreal tableau of a warrior undone by the shadows he battles.

A silent understanding passes between us as I guide Azriel toward the sink. The metallic surface gleams in the dim light, and I turn on the faucet, letting the cool water cascade over his scarred hands. The crimson stains mingle with the shadows, forming rivulets that trail down the drain. Azriel winces at the touch of the water, his gaze remaining distant, lost in the echoes of a battle only he can fathom.

"They burn, they burn," he mutters, the haunting refrain echoing in the confined space. My experienced hands work diligently, scrubbing away the remnants of his ordeal. The water turns a murky red, and the room echoes with the haunting sounds of his mutterings. The dissonance of the kitchen transforms into a harrowing symphony of cleansing, where water, shadows, and blood merge in an otherworldly ballet.

As the water runs clear, Azriel's hands tremble beneath the flow. The shadows, once voracious, seem to retreat in the face of unwavering resolve. However, his distress persists, and he utters those haunting words once again.

"They burn," he says, his voice carrying a panicked tone that sends shivers down my spine.

"Azriel, there is no fire," I reassure him, attempting to ground him in the reality of the kitchen. I clasp his hands between my own, as if the warmth could dispel the imaginary flames he perceives. But my well-intentioned gesture seems to trigger an unintended reaction.

In the next moment, Azriel pushes me back with unexpected force, causing my back to collide harshly with the edge of the kitchen table. Pain erupts in my lower spine, and I crumple to the ground, groaning in agony. The once serene kitchen now bears witness to a sudden shift in dynamics, the atmosphere charged with both distress and physical discomfort.