#the jacket ™️
Every time Lucien returns to the Night Court, he finds the jacket neatly folded on his pillow.
Dutifully, he puts it on before bed, spending the night in it, rubbing his cheek over the collar as if it can imbue his scent into it further, before gently leaving it on his dresser, a little less neatly folded, but it’s his best effort. He leaves for the day, visiting Feyre or meeting with Rhysand, drinking with Cassian, trying not to think of the scent of flowers that clung to the cloth, melding with his own scent, creating something so new and enticing and fragile he’s afraid to even whisper, or it would vanish.
When he returns, the jacket is gone, and he can barely taste the scent of hydrangeas and jasmine in the air. He breathes it in, this small, tiny gift left behind for him, and allows himself a small smile. This one small joy in a lifetime of sorrows.
@lucienvanserraweek just another lil headcanon for day 3 nothing to see here
