You’d had a rough day - no, that was an understatement. You’d had a bad few months, but it felt like days. Being immortal did that to you.

You’re sitting on the roof of your apartment, with your knees tucked up to your chest, which does nothing against the crisp night air. Sleep evaded you, so you decided to just sit and stare at the stars, hoping it would calm your thoughts.

Despite your sensitive, pointed Fae ears, you don’t notice Azriel appear out of the shadows until he’s sitting right next to you. He adjusts his position slightly and puts one of his wings around you, enveloping you in its warmth.

“You’re never up this late. What’s wrong?” Azriel asks softly, a hint of concern in his voice.