Before Andras, before her every heartbeat had become filled with the silent cries to be heard by the one who never would as they whispered almost desperately for him to know the truth behind the affectionate smiles so often curling blush-colored lips whether or not he might be looking or the never-ending desire to be near him which so often had her doing all that she could to keep herself from going to his modest townhouse the fae man called his own here within the city limits of Sacrosanct, the blue-eyed blonde young woman had always loved the romantic tale of Romeo and Juliet. What young woman with eve just faint aspirations of finding their own little love story made real did not swoon in the slightest over the tragic and oh, so forbidden aspect of a romance to shatter and push through every wall that would dare to try and keep it trapped, to break free of the iron cage made by the world and those in it threatening to forever hold it captive so that those wings would never fly, locked away and forced to go unsaid or unseen though certainly not unfelt? In so many of these tales of love found and love lost, of white knights perishing all in the name of the love that so burned within their hearts for their lady fair whom was cherished above all else, even the very breath of life that all living things needed, it was often that she might dare to wonder what her life would be like should there ever come a time where she might find such a thing to make hers. Although, unlike these great novels and stories written by authors leaving one to wonder if those words had come from a place much more real than their readers could ever comprehend, she'd never once thought her own story might ever be anything nearly as beautiful or tragic as some of those favored books sitting upon the shelves in her apartment. In all truthfulness, the young woman had expected that if she ever even found someone special, it would just be another cliché little story of "girl meets boy" in some small little coffee shop or something that would fall so terribly short of those books she's read. They would bump into each other, and one of them would end up with coffee on their shirt - which would most likely have been him - while the other profusely apologized and snatched some napkins to try and help clean up the mess only to fail miserably, which surely would be the part played by her. She would then blush, regardless of whether or not she was the wearer of the coffee or not, and then maybe he might have found the color of her cheeks charming as he did his best to assure her that there was no real harm done save for a mild burn that wouldn't require any medical attention. At this point in the story, she would have laughed nervously and he might then remark with how he liked her smile. They would walk out of the little local café, and for reasons unknown, he would ask if perhaps they could meet up again - this time without any messes or wild embarrassment - and she would have tucked elegant and loosely curled golden hair behind her ear timidly as she agreed, seeing no harm in such a thing and writing down her phone number on one of the crinkled and used-up napkins with some spare eyeliner or mascara that she kept in her purse should she ever need it.

They would part ways then, both alive with those tell-tale butterflies at the entire chance meeting with someone that would come to mean more to the other than anything in the world. They would then meet up for dinner in some typical Italian restaurant, he would pull out a chair for her, and they would hit it off then and there as they told each other a little bit about themselves. There would be talk of hobbies, what it was the other did to make the weekdays seem to move by just a little faster until at last Friday night was upon the city. She would ask him what it was he liked to do on the weekends, and he would tell her while returning the very same question. Laughter would be shared, long glances lingering between two once-strangers beginning to think that some sort of magic had been at work to bring them together that busy monday morning in the café those few days ago. The night would draw to an end and they would both want to set up another date, another chance to make sure that this was for real and not just something they were somehow conjuring up in their minds. There would be that moment as they stood there under the light of s lamppost in the dark, and her baby blues would probably be staring down at the pavement or perhaps she might fiddle with the buttons on her trench coat as they timidly asked when might be good for another meeting, neither of them quite ready to admit that it was not a date but instead just two people looking for friendship. Perhaps he would rub the back of his neck, try and crack a joke only to apologize for it afterwards, admitting that it was "dumb" or "stupid". She would smile shyly up to him then and tell him something like "no, I actually haven't heard of that one before" or "I think it's funny". Then, there would be that awkward moment where they both looked down at their shoes or perhaps towards the city streets and the cars passing by only for them to look back at one another in the same moment, their eyes meeting all over again. Her head would begin to feel light or dizzy, she would try and calm the fluttering of her heart as he would clear his throat and say that he had a great time, that he hopes they could do this again soon... And when they both returned to their respective apartments on opposite sides of the city, the rest of their night would be spent so far apart and yet not once would they be able to stop thinking about one another. He wouldn't be able to get the image of her smile out of his mind, and she wouldn't be able to stop thinking about how kind and warm his eyes were. They would try and go about their days doing what they always did before that monday morning, only for her to be looking at her phone wondering if he would ever text or call again while he was somewhere else wondering if he should at all, if she even really wanted to hear from him at all. And then, finally, after a few days, he would find the courage to call and she would nearly drop the groceries she'd just bought, all to answer that one call with hope that it wouldn't be one of those "hey, just wanted to say thanks again for the other night but we probably shouldn't meet up again" calls. And the next thing either of them know, that chance meeting and first meet-up suddenly becomes something so much more than they could have ever guessed at or believed to be possible.

It would be just one of the thousands of romantic comedies that everyone watched with popcorn and their favorite person or people. There would be laughter and swoons, girls sighing wistfully as they dreamt of meeting their "one" in such a way that happened in the everyday world. That had been all that Beylani would have ever dared to imagine possible for her. Oh, how wrong she had been in thinking that her story would be one so simple, so effortless... The way things had begun for her, they could not have been any further from such a story. She remembers the fear that gripped at her heart in those first moments as he descended upon her, recalls with perfect clarity how her heart had threatened to stop dead in her breast as she found herself ready for whatever consequences the harmlessness of her actions would cost her. He'd looked down upon her with those predatory hazel eyes, dark and foreboding as he towered over her with bat-like wings reaching far over his own head. The sheer strength with which he'd snatched that camera from her clutches only to destroy it as though it were only made of paper... Everything could have ended then and there. She never would have gotten the chance to find her own love story, to chase that dream of becoming a world-renowned photographer with talents that would leave. All the promise that she'd once seen in the distant horizon that was her future had come to a sudden stop as she found her thoughts racing, wishing that she could have done things differently or tried harder to reach her dream a little sooner... She doesn't exactly know where everything had changed because of her acceptance of whatever was to come next as he loomed over her in that clearing, only remembering the sudden rise of defiance in her heart that somehow took what had originally been regarded by the blue-eyed blonde as a horror movie come to life and shifted it into the very last thing she ever would have thought of. It had started out as a curiosity, teetering somewhere between friendship and not. Or had it? Was there a word for what came between the young woman and the fae man she knew nothing of? Never could she forget the surprise when she'd discovered a package sitting there on her doorstep, only to open it once she was within the comforts of her small apartment and discover the wildly expensive gift that rested within the delicate white paper, accompanied by that note which she'd blatantly ignored. Why she had felt so determined to find him and thank him in those fleeting moments after, she again could not be entirely certain of. Beylani remembers the sensation that sends chills up her spine, like she was being followed... and then, suddenly, there he was, reaching out to keep her from falling as she whirls around in shock and surprise to find him so closely behind her. He'd walked her home, offering his arm to her which she'd taken in another wave of surprise from a gesture she'd thought was gone from the present world. And when he'd taken her into the bathroom to clean her wound after the incident with Chika... the gentleness of his touch, the apology that finds midnight tenor tones... She remembers everything after that.

Meeting him unexpectedly at the tea party with Dorian, the way that the fae men seemed to look at her â€" more specifically, how Dorian seemed to look between the two of them as Andras near shamelessly teased her with outrageous remarks about them having been without clothes when they'd first met â€" not too long before that wonderful afternoon with the first face she'd come across when having just settled into her apartment at Riverdale. It was impossible for her to forget how he'd surprised her on the evening of her birthday, Elain quickly ducking away for reasons that the blue-eyed blonde hadn't known of until just recently. He'd taken her out that night, first to buy that black dress she so loved followed by dinner at one of the finest places she'd ever been to. All these moments, they blend together and they keep her from being able to find that restful slumber as she wars in the sheets of her bed with those emotions that were unrelenting. She sees now that the love story she'd once thought she might one day find was nothing like what she'd imagined. It hadn't started out effortless. There wasn't a man uncertain of himself and the effects that he could easily bring upon the young woman, but instead a refined yet terribly devilish and handsome fae king that for one reason or another had taken some sort of interest in her. Was it truly interest, though? What if everything that she'd ever thought she'd seen in him, every kiss, the moment where he'd ignited within her the flames of desire by the likes of nothing she had ever felt at all... was just what Beylani was imagining? Was any of it real? Was the tenderness, his laughter, the softness of his smile... were these simply things her heart had conjured up to send her free-falling further and further into this love she held so deeply in her heart instead of the real thing? She doesn't know, and she so desperately wished that she did. Perhaps then, she would be able to save herself. Maybe she would have a chance of lessening the utter heartbreak that surely waited for her right around the metaphorical bend in the road she could not see ahead of her. She wants to ask him, wants to tell Andras that she loved him hopelessly, and yet she wants to allow herself to live in this naivety. I just want to pretend that he feels the same... that this isn't just some twisted version of star-crossed lovers, even when it would only be one-sided. While she would never claim to be the smartest individual in the world, her entire encounter and this near torturous dance she and the fae man seemed so locked into proving this time and time again, and though she certainly wasn't dim-witted, she wants to let herself live in these drawn-up fantasies for at least a little longer before it all crashes down around her. For just a small moment in time, she wants to think that she meant as much to him as he did to her.

At first, he does not stir as she moves onto the futon there beside him. His eyes are closed to the world in this moment as the early morning light filters through the blinds and thin linen curtains, touching his face in a way that only made him look that much more otherworldly than he already was in this reality she never would have thought existed. Hardly a moment passes when she settles herself there against his strong frame before suddenly he is pulling her closer to him. Baby blue eyes widen in their own surprise, having been quite sure that Andras had been soundly sleeping, though this sudden show of life clearly indicated otherwise. Again, he tricks her... like he so often does, and yet she does not protest to his movements in the least, allowing for him to bring her ever closer to him, to the place that she wanted to stay in for the rest of her life. Blonde locks cascade over his bare chest, her own heart immediately beginning to race within her breast simply for the closeness of the one it yearned for, though the surprise is quick to subside as he wraps his strong arms around her shoulders. Familiar tenor tones usher in the quiet of the apartment as hazel depth slit open and she feels herself already losing herself in them as amusement flickers across his gaze. She can't help the soft smile that finds blush-colored lips then as she looks up to him."I thought that perhaps this time, it was a bit safer", she teases lightly back, unable to keep her smile from growing upon her features as the memory flickers across her thoughts as it so often did whenever she was thinking of Andras. His next string of words has her wondering if perhaps she should tell him now what it was that had kept her so restless..."It might have been better with you there. And you, Andras?", she answers honestly, as she always does with the fae king. Never has she ever thought to be dishonest with him before, and there was certainly no reason that she would start now, even if she kept silent the sea of confessions that crashed against the walls of her heart. He places a kiss into messy blonde hair and she presses herself further into the warmth of his embrace, silently wishing that this would never end, even though she knows it is foolish to think such things. He shifts and she moves with him, not wanting for even the smallest breath of air to be between them if she could so help it. Oh, what she wouldn't give for this to be part of her every morning... It is when his baritones reach for her attention again that she nearly stiffens, the first thought her mind taking her to that night beneath the stars in the springs atop the lodge in Insomnia. How close things had been... She is unable to hide the flush that she feels rise in her cheeks, and as if to save herself she reaches inwardly for that boldness and is able to push through the rapid beating of her heart as she attempts an almost coy smile in turn."Yes, well, I've gotten used to it now I think", she whispers up to him then, as if it were the most precious of secrets. He holds her tighter and there is no objection as she counters in fierce determination to win this round, allowing slender fingertips to trail ever so delicately over the smooth sun-kissed skin of his defined chest.

Just as quickly as her boldness had surfaced within her, it is softened as she is overwhelmed by the pure contentment of lying there with him. What if every night could be like this? What if every day could begin and end right there within his embrace as he sought to stir her only to try and change the... circumstances when she would manage to surprise him and even just briefly shake his nearly constant composure? These questions have her heart racing and her chest tightening, the contentment so terribly fleeting as her thoughts shift. Now is as good a time as any, Lani. She does not even know how to say them, what to say, or where to begin... And so, she is silent for a moment before realizing that she'd stopped breathing. Taking a deep breath, she tries to push the questions away, the want to know... and yet she can no longer, her gaze looking to the sunlight filtering through the window."You know... I wish every morning could be like this", she breathes almost wistfully. It was a start... but it doesn't end there. And if only she'd known just how much she would come to regret the words that fall past her lips before she has a chance to stop them..."Just imagine if I were fae, what things could be like", she says then, and only then does her baby blues look back to Andras, the one that both made her heart swoon and weep in the same singular moment. But oh, if only she had known what these words meant only to be playful would bring...