Chapter Text
Feyre POV
My bare feet sting as I sprint down the crowded streets of downtown Velaris, the too-high heels I’d been forced into long discarded. I trip over the flowing skirts of my wedding dress, stopping to quickly gather the material into my arms.
“Feyre!” the enraged voice of my fiancé, Tamlin, calls after me. With a gasp, I turn back to see his blonde head over the crowd of people walking down the sidewalk, gaining on me quickly. I finish gathering my skirts and start to run again, forcing my legs to propel me faster. I look around in a panic, searching for a way out, a way to get away from Tamlin. I can’t go back to the apartment uptown that we shared, that would be the first place he would look for me. Looking ahead, I see the stairs down to the subway station. With renewed vigor, I run faster, bounding down the stairs.
By the time I make it down the steps, a train has just pulled in. Turning back I see Tamlin and a few other guests from the wedding rushing down the stairs after me. The doors to the train begin to close and I see my window of escape closing in. I manage to slip through the doors just as they slide to a close. Struggling to breathe in the tight corset of my dress, I turn back to see Tamlin skid to a stop and slam an angry fist against the door just before the train starts to pull away. I hold his enraged gaze til the train pulls me from sight. Panting, I turn and plop into a seat, the reality of what I had just done starts to set in.
“Oh, gods,” I whisper to myself, still trying to catch my breath. I just ran away from my wedding…
〜✧〜
One Hour Earlier
I really, truly hated my wedding gown. The monstrosity of sparkling tulle and silk practically swallowed me whole as I waited nervously outside the chapel doors. The fitted bodice squeezed against the bruising on my ribs. Elbow-length silk gloves cover the fingerprints on my wrists that never seem to fade.
Flicking the puffy capped sleeves of the dress away from my face in irritation, I start to regret letting Tamlin pawn the planning duties off to his assistant, Ianthe. I fidget with the pale bouquet in my hands as I close my eyes and try to settle my erratic breathing, thinking of Tamlin standing at the other end of this long aisle. Tamlin… and three hundred of his business associates and friends. Three hundred pairs of judging eyes wondering how some poor nobody was worthy enough to marry one of the richest businessmen in Prythian. None of those eyes belonged to the people I cared about. I hadn't realized before just how much Tamlin had isolated me from my friends and family, from the people I love. My own sisters aren't going to see me get married. That realization hits me like an arrow to the chest.
The first notes of music from behind the doors snapped me out of my panicked spiral. My eyes go wide and my breath wooshes out of me as the resplendent doors creak open. Three hundred people rise and pivot towards me. My eyes lock onto Tamlin’s as I freeze in place. His face is stoic as always, never betraying his thoughts and emotions. So many eyes, too many eyes press in on me, suffocating me.
My feet decide before I do, stepping back, wobbling precariously on the too-high heels picked out for me. My arms fall to my sides at their own volition, the crushed bouquet slipping from my limp fingers. The crowd breaks out into quiet murmurs, then into astounded gasps and shouts as I bolt out the open church doors behind me.
〜✧〜
My head thuds dully against the window of the train. The pearls, jewels, and Caldron know what dig painfully into my scalp. My dress is fanned out around me, taking up the two seats beside me and drawing stares from the passengers around me. Having finally caught my breath, the reality of what I’d just done started to set in. I ran out on my wedding, ran barefoot through the city, and got on a random train with no clue where it was headed. I looked around, trying to find out where this train was heading, avoiding the judgmental eyes around me. I spot a map on the wall across from me and sit up to get a closer look.
Thanking the mother, I see that the next stop is at The Rainbow, the city center and the main hub for all kinds of arts. It also happens to be right next to my office building. Finally seeing a way out of this mess, I stand and walk over to the doors, right as the train pulls into the underground station. The doors slide open and I step out onto the platform, fighting not to think about my bare feet on the dirty concrete. I trudge up the stairs to the street above, turning towards the towering skyscrapers, internally scolding myself. This was probably the best escape route, I should have thought of it sooner. Tamlin never bothered to ask about my job and would never find me here. I’m sure he thought I worked at some art studio. Which was a good thing because if he'd found out who my boss was, he would most definitely fly into an uncontrollable fit of rage.
When I first met Tamlin I was an instructor at a wine and paint bar, but when he saw how much attention I got from the male customers, he got jealous and paranoid and made me quit. He told me an office job would be better, and even tried to get me a job at his company. Said it would let him keep a better eye on me. So, when I started looking for a job, the last one I expected to get was the personal assistant to Tamlin’s business rival. I’d applied as a joke, and possibly a little bit out of spite, after one too many glasses of wine, never anticipating I’d actually get the job, let alone an interview. But it stopped being a joke after walking into the towering skyscraper that was home to Night Court Tech.
I probably wouldn't have taken the job if I'd known I would be the assistant to the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.
〜✧〜
The elevator ride to the top floor was a daze. Now that the adrenaline has started to wear off, the panic is setting in quickly. What in the cauldron had I just done? The ding of opening doors startles me and I stumble out of the elevator in a trance. My chest feels like it's about to cave in, my breaths wheezing out of me in quick pants. Stumbling over to my desk, I try to pull at the tight fabric squeezing my ribs. I feel like I am suffocating, the walls closing in on me. Tears pour down my face, no doubt smearing the makeup caked onto my face. I think I may pass out, but then I hear a familiar voice from behind me.
“Feyre?”