Rhysand is worried about Sabina.

*

"It's my turn to pick the movie," Rhysand deadpans, giving his wife a flat look.

Andrea juts out her bottom lip and pouts, one hand petting their son, and the other holding the remote. "But you'll pick thriller and I want a rom-com," she mumbles quietly.

Rhysand doesn't know why he tries. He heaves a sigh and hangs his head back. "Fine. You can have my turn this week. Again."

"Yay!" Andrea snuggles closer to him, bringing Biscuit along, and pulls the blankets up to their bodies. "Okay, so here's what's on my list, you can choose any of the—"

The sound of their doorbell comes first, and then the beep of the security code.

Rhysand looks at his wife with a raised eyebrow. There are only three people who have access to their security code, and Jenner knows he's only allowed to use it in emergency situations.

Andrea pushes the blankets off and stands barefoot, rushing to the door.

If either Sabina or MJ don't call ahead, it's urgent and serious.

He's right. As soon as the front door gives way, Andrea's crushed in a hug by Sabina fucking Kyle.

Rhysand only knows that woman in two moods: annoyed and cursing at him, or angry and cursing at him.

It's the nature of their relationship. Andrea has learned to accept it.

But Rhysand has never seen that woman cry in the years they've unfortunately known each other, and she's sobbing in his wife's shoulder.

"Okay," Andrea says soothingly, caressing her friend's back and shushing her, and her voice is gentle and comforting. "Okay, let's go to your room, Sab."

The model doesn't raise her head from her hands, and her shoulders shake while Andrea leads them towards the direction of her room. Andrea glances at Rhysand with a worried expression, and Rhysand shakes his head and mouths, "Call me if you need me."

She nods once, and then she's gone with Sabina.

Rhysand will never understand her bond with both Sabina and MJ, but he's not going to question or doubt it. If anything, he's grateful his wife has them since she was a freshman in college. She loves and trusts them deeply, and she's loved and trusted by them in return, and that's all Rhysand wants.

Even though Sabina barged in their bedroom that one time while he was fucking hard. (Although he later found out it was because she was just told her boyfriend had a kid, and forgave her because, well. Valid excuse.)

So he wanders into the kitchen, Biscuit's little paws running after him, and he opens the refrigerator to find him something to eat. "You hungry, little buddy? Daddy's gonna feed you, alright?"

Biscuit is finishing his lunch when Andrea appears by the hallway with a hand to her forehead. She still looks worried.

Rhysand frowns and walks over to her. "Hey. You alright?"

She sighs and steps forward to hug him around the waist, head on his chest. "I'm so worried," she mutters in his shirt. "Sab's never...she's never cried like that. Ever."

He strokes her back soothingly and bites his lip. Quietly, he asks, "She gonna be okay?"

Andrea shrugs once. "I don't know. Rhys." She pulls back, and her features pull together, the way they do when she's about to cry. "Rhys, she has a bruised jaw."

Rhysand feels his body burst into rage, first. "What?" he snaps, angry. "Who the fuck—"

"I don't think it's Tristan," Andrea says in a rush, clutching his arms. Her fingernails dig into his skin. "He's not that kind of person."

Rhysand's jaw clenches. "We don't know what kind of person he is."

"Let's wait for Sab to wake up," Andrea pleads, pursing her lips. "She's asleep right now, she's exhausted. I know you're angry. I am, too. But I'm more worried and I need to be here for her. Okay?"

Rhysand grits his teeth and stares at his wife. "Yeah," he finally says, shoulders slumping at the look in her eyes, and he pulls her in for a hug, kissing her temple. "Yeah, of course."

Andrea sits on the couch while a movie plays on the television—the only sound. Rhysand makes her coffee, which she takes gratefully, and takes Biscuit out for a walk. It's supposed to be Andrea's turn, but she needs to be here for Sabina.

Andrea goes back and forth Sabina's room and the living room for hours, and Rhysand keeps her company on the couch, rubbing her thigh.

Finally, she stands up. "I'll stay in her room."

Rhysand nods. "Okay."

Andrea scurries to her best friend, and Rhysand wanders in the kitchen to make himself coffee.

When he hears voices down the hall, Rhysand knows Sabina is awake.

His fingers itch. She must be feeling like shit.

Heaving an annoyed sigh, Rhysand makes tea. He tells himself it's for his wife, but Andrea doesn't drink tea, and there's no one else in this damn house he could be making tea for.

He walks down the hall with the cup in hand and slows down in front of the door and hears silence. Pursing his lips, he knocks once and opens it.

Sabina's red eyes widen, and she turns around.

Shit. "Sorry," Rhysand mutters, handing over the cup to his wife. "Tea."

Andrea looks up at him and takes it with a small smile. "Thank you, baby."

Rhysand leaves and closes the door, and he hears Sabina say, "Great. Now he's seen me cry. He'll never let me live this down."

In other circumstances, maybe. Not when she's sobbing and sporting a bruised jaw. Rhysand wants to snort. Drama queen.

Andrea says, "He won't bring it up."

Rhysand smiles.

Sabina is quiet for a while. Rhysand wonders if she's drinking the tea, and he frowns. Did he make it too hot? "Really," she finally mutters.

Rhysand rolls his eyes.

"He brought tea for you because he knows you're feeling like shit. In some ways, Sab, both of you are so alike."

Rhysand almost guffaws—him? Alike Sabina Kyle?

But the thought settles, and he stops himself from laughing, blinking. Huh. Are they?

"He's a grandpa," Sabina says.

Rhysand sneers.

"You love him and he loves you," Andrea tells her, and Rhysand can hear the fucking smile on her face.

He gags.

"Whatever," Sabina says. Rhysand imagines her gagging as well.

"Sab," Andrea starts, the worry seeping into her voice. "You wanna tell me why you're crying? Or do you just wanna go back to sleep? I'll wake you up when dinner's ready."

Rhysand is...he will never admit it, but he's glad Andrea added MJ's and Sabina's rooms in their home. It's just...fitting that they have their own rooms here.

He leaves before Sabina can answer. Whatever she's going to say, it's not for Rhysand to hear or to listen to.

*

"Please be nice," Andrea whispers to him as he grabs the keys to the Jeep.

Rhysand wants to retort, but he knows Andrea isn't joking or trying to be funny, and he knows she really needs the assurance from him that he's going to be nice to her best friend.

Rhysand nods once and cups her cheek. "I will. Are you sure it wasn't Tristan?"

She shakes her head. "No. It was his sister."

Should he punch her? Can he punch her?

"Drive safe," she tells him, kissing him quickly, and then she crushes Sabina in a tight hug and leads her to the car.

They're unusually quiet. Under normal circumstances, they would be bickering by now and arguing over the radio, but Rhysand doesn't turn the radio on, and Sabina doesn't speak—she doesn't have the energy to as she wasted it all on crying. She only looks out the window as Rhysand drives, and it's weird. Being in this quiet with her. It's weird and it makes his skin itch.

Rhysand glances at her from the corner of his eye. The dark skin of her jaw is bruised. Rhysand balls his hands into fists before tightening them back on the steering wheel, and he rolls down the window.

Sabina doesn't look at him for the gesture, and Rhysand is glad, because he doesn't look at her, either.

When he sees her place in view, Tristan pacing in front of his Dodge, Rhysand slows down.

Sabina pulls her head back and leans against the seat with a sigh.

Maybe he can punch the boyfriend instead. "I can turn around," Rhysand says quietly, easing his foot up the gas.

Sabina looks at the side of his face and mutters, "I'll just hide in your house if you do."

Rhysand almost snorts. "Isn't that why you have a room?" he counters dryly, turning his head to look at her with a raised eyebrow.

Her eyes are sore, her whole face is puffy, the mark on her jaw is prominent. Rhysand feels his nerves bunch up in worry—would she be okay if he left her with Tristan? "You're not going to punch him in my stead if I say I don't wanna turn around, right?"

Rhysand turns back to the road. "Do you want me to?" he asks flatly. He will if she does.

Sabina manages a laugh. It relieves him—somewhat. "That's embarrassing and annoying."

Rhysand's mouth twitches. "I'm a grown man, Sabina. I don't punch people anymore. You do, apparently. And if you look this ugly, I don't want to know what his sister looks like."

Worse. Sabina's a goddamn fighter, and Rhysand knows she did not got down without a fight.

From the corner of his eye, he sees her lips curve. "You proud?"

Rhysand keeps his expression blank and doesn't look at her when he answers, "I don't condone violence, Sabina."

"You are."

"Shut up. We're here."

Sabina's boyfriend raises his head once they're approaching. She takes off her seatbelt while Rhysand nears the car by the sidewalk. "Thanks for the tea, old man."

"You're making me regret it," Rhysand drawls, trying his best to ease himself from the worry of leaving her alone. "Go inside."

Once Sabina steps out, Tristan walks closer, angry. Rhysand doesn't hear what he's saying, but Sabina handles it well, because she brushes past him and heads to her front door.

Rhysand waits until she's safely inside.

With a heavy heart, he drives back home and calls his wife.

"Is she home? Was Tristan there?" Andrea asks as soon as she picks up.

Rhysand drums his fingertips on the steering wheel. "Yes and yes. I'm on the way home, but sunshine, tell me Sabina can handle herself just fucking fine."

Andrea pauses.

Rhysand almost steps on the brake. "She can, right?"

"You see her cry once and you're already so protective," his wife says with a fond smile. "She can, baby, don't worry. Sabina's tough. You know that."

Right. He does. Rhysand swallows thickly. "Okay."

"You act like you both hate each other but you actually love each other like siblings. It's so cute and so...Sabina and Rhysand. I can't explain it."

Rhysand rolls his eyes. "Baby, I told you. She's too ugly to be my sister. Now, do you want me to grab dinner before I head home or are we cooking?"

*

sabina and rhys's friendship is everything to me u guys dont understand