confessions of a wilted flower | hwang hyunjin
genre: first love, fluff, slight angst
wc: 12.2k+
warnings: that high school love i can never have again, reader has a fear of failure, general stress about grades but grades can go fuck themselves, hyunjin is a little jelly ft. jeno
a/n: prolly still not proofread expect the random typos sorry :'>
i.
The first time Hyunjin ever confessed to you was in elementary school.
It was child's play, quite literally.
Holding up a bougainvillaea with a crumpled petal, for it had been the closest substitute he could find on his way to school in place of the red rose he had so carefully wrapped in a plastic sheet last night with his mother and neatly tied a white ribbon around, but had forgotten to take in the morning, he had stuttered through his lips for a way to confess.
Seemingly all the times he had practiced it in his mind instead of working on his multiplication tables had vanished — all gone, his perfect "I love you" and the time he could have spent learning the seven's multiplication.
You had accepted the rather shabby flower, holding it precariously by its stem and blushed at his confession, even though he had settled for a "I like you" in the end, not finding it in himself to do otherwise under the giggling mess that his entire class was, ooh-ing at his display of affection.
And that's how Jisung, to this date, keeps teasing him about it. Curse the heavens for putting them in the same class back then.
A confession at six was probably not even a proper confession. But who made that rule? Who gave people the right to disregard a six year old’s thumping heart and nervous stutters and the colossal amount of courage he had to summon to say those three words with a crumpled up flower for a sorry excuse of a valentine’s day offering?
So what if he was a kid? Hyunjin had seen a fair amount of proposals that never went wrong, where the adults in the movies would hand their love interest a flower, kiss and hold hands. It was simple right? Hyunjin thought so too. He would confess, give you the flower, mayhaps get a kiss and hold hands with you.
The kiss had been optional in his books, his mind no less than a nervous, flustered wreck at the thought of your lips on his. Yes, he could definitely survive without the kiss. Besides, he was too young… he could kiss you some other time, when you were both adults.
His first valentine’s day had therefore come to an end disastrously — at least that’s how it had been for him.
He realised that a confession of love should never be done in the first period, that was art and the children were allowed to chatter amongst themselves because their art teacher was the kindest soul on this earth who let her students talk and play in class. Because this meant that the entire class was talking about you two, more about Hyunjin than you though, and he had to sit in forced silence in a group of rowdy boys making kissing faces at him and mocking his “I like you” in a high pitched voice. He was feeling rather pathetic while you sat in a circle with your friends who were giggling and teasing you too.
He had to run away when he saw you approach the water taps to fill your bottle, leaving his own favorite red spider-man bottle abandoned as he sprinted to the class, too embarrassed at the prospect of facing you the entire day.
Alas, he had not got to hold your hand that day either.
He had gone back home depressed, absently looking out the window as the horrible day kept replaying in his head.
Every day he got down the bus and saw his mother waiting to pick him up, he would smile and hug her and babble about how his day went, how Jisung tripped over his own feet and the whole class laughed at him, the three red stars his math teacher had drawn on his homework and you. Mostly you — how you had offered to share your spring rolls with him, lent him your precious set of colour pencils and saved him a seat beside you during lunch.
That day he got off the bus with a sad pout, and when his mom took his bag from him and inquired about the missing water bottle, he burst into tears.
It would have seemed that he was crying because he had forgotten to retrieve his bottle after successfully avoiding you, and now he was afraid of the scolding as a consequence. But in reality, it was because he was positively convinced his love life was over — ruined, gone to shambles and never to come back again.
Quite dramatic, but understandable for a six year old experiencing his first times and messing it up.
“There, there,” his mother had patted him on his back, lifting him up in her arms and letting him wrap his clenched fists around her neck, crying into her shoulder.
The six year old Hyunjin had hated the sight of roses since that day, irrespective of their colour be it red or white or pink, and had unceremoniously crushed the flower on reaching home, plastic wrapping and ribbon included and stomped on it on the ground.
His mother had sympathised with her son, musing at his small body with so much anger and resentment it carried, and baked him his favorite banana cake along with a cup of chocolate smoothie.
Needless to say, he had let go of his sulky pout the next day, for you had invited him to your birthday party in the coming week. He didn’t have to avoid you the entire day and even grabbed his water bottle his homeroom teacher had retrieved for him rather gleefully, ignoring her words of taking care of his personal belongings better in his exhilarated state at having things back to normal.
And he babbled again to his mom that afternoon, not forgetting to mention your birthday and wondering what he could possibly get you, going as far as enquiring excitedly about the amount of money in his pink piggy bank. She had laughed at him and said rather gently that it was enough to buy you a decent present.
What Hyunjin didn’t know was that you had gone home in tears that day as well. Some kid in the bus had accidentally sat on your flower and squashed it. One of the petals was torn and by the time you reached home, it was already losing the bright coral colour and had veins of black running across the other petals.
It was a whole ordeal trying to get you to quieten down, your dad explaining to you in patient tones on how all flowers wilted at some point, the ones which were plucked sooner than the ones still blooming on plants. It took you an hour to understand. Or maybe you just stopped crying because you were tired.
Kids can be so simple and yet complex.
ii.
Hyunjin’s dislike for roses had remained even as he grew up to be a frequent receiver of the darned flower.
But Hyunjin was a kind kid. Beneath all the awkward limbs and sinking feeling in his chest that came with the realisation that he was going to have to turn down yet another valentine rose, he did it kindly.
“Ah, sorry… I don’t like you that way,” he’d mumble, toes curling inside his shoes at the sheer amount of people who had gathered to watch him break another heart and you sitting in one corner of the room, where the coral rays of the afternoon sun only glowed on you and the curtains only fluttered around your frame. It was puppy love for Hyunjin, one that made his teenage heart do cartwheels around you; all that ‘the time seemed to stop’ jazz.
Fifteen year old Hyunjin was still in love with you.
And that made it hard for him to ignore the red roses taped to his locker door, the white ones along with chocolates placed on his desk and the pink ones he’d receive from girls from other classes.
Fifteen year old Hyunjin had very carefully ensured that you were no wiser of his feelings.
And that made it easier for him to hang out with you after school in the playground, sucking on ice lollies and tasting a bit of each other’s lolly flavours. This surprisingly didn’t concern him in the least as an indirect kiss. It also weighed less on his conscience when he’d deliberately play a horror movie, knowing that if he kept the throw pillows on his side, you’d cling on to his arm, that being the nearest thing you could bury your face into. He could always play it off as his way of teasing you.
Fifteen year old Hyunjin also held your hand in his.
The first time was because he was genuinely scared of going on the pirate ship in the amusement park that you had dragged him to on the eve of your sixteenth birthday, teasing him of how he was still couple of months younger than you; you had to intertwine your fingers with his and put up with his constant whining and foot stomping about the whole ordeal.
He never went on that ride again.
The second time, though intended, the hand holding came more naturally.
It was on the subway… actually, it was even before the subway.
It was a Friday evening, and both of you were catching a train later than your usual one having spent the freedom that came with finishing your exams, on the old market street near your school.
Apparently you had come across a picture of tonkatsu surfing through the hell that social media was, and had craved the crispy snack. On further research, you found out about the shop and texted Hyunjin about it excitedly.
Your messages had been amusing, a mixed bag of threats and pleading. Somehow the clash of emotions had made him smile. Your impatience always shone through when you didn’t get prompt replies to your messages.
[you]: we’re going there tomorrow after school, no ifs and buts.
Sent at 7:30. No wonder your following messages were a mess; he had just gone to take a shower and had come back to his phone blowing up with your spam. Unfortunately, he had left your chat open, so it had seemed as if he had left you on read.
[you]: don’t you leave me hanging now !!
[you]: hey! are you ignoring me?
[you]: omg hwang hyunjin you ass, the one time i need you, you leave me on seen?! The aUDACITY !! the Betrayal™ :’((((((
[you]: fine then. leave me on read and never talk to me again. i shall enjoy myself without your constant annoying company
[you]: hyuuuuunjiiiiiiinnnnnn, cmoooooooooooon,,,, i was kidding about you being annoying, please please please come with me ;-;
[hyunjin]: geez, i was in the shower and left our chat open. You know i’ll say yes, it’s the last exam -_-
[you]: yAYYYYY HWANG HYUNJIN I LOVE YOU SO MUCH !!11!!!!1!!
Hyunjin knew you hadn’t truly meant your last message, nonetheless it made him drop his phone on his chest and facepalm.
As promised, promptly after the last bell rang, signifying the finish of two hellish weeks of exams, he made his way over to your classroom where you had been seated temporarily for exam period only. It was then that he had tugged on your hand in the horde of students, excitedly chatting about summer break and pulled you out of the crowd.
It was an unspoken agreement between the two of you to never bring up the question paper and discuss it once you were officially through with the whole ordeal of sitting at a desk for two hours working on pythagoras problems and reciting world war dates in chronological order — it was history and must not ever be brought up.
So the two of you settled on chatting about plans for summer vacations, mostly trying to fit in studying in your schedule that comprised mainly of catching the first screening of the new movie coming out next week and having a different flavour of ice cream at the new ice cream parlour that had recently opened down your street.
The walk to the old market street wasn’t long, it was pleasant to be ambling along the road under the muted afternoon sun with a spring breeze blowing and an occasional dry leaf falling on your shoulder when you had to wait at the cross section for the lights to turn red.
Although there wasn’t much of a crowd yet given the hour of the day, once you reached the market street, there was quite a hustle. The pavements were lined up with stalls, multicoloured cloth awnings serving as a splash of colour. It was comical, the way the main street and the market stood in contrast with each other, as if two worlds had somehow stuck at the junction of their collision, hanging in space awkwardly.
The hum of the cars and honking had set a backdrop to your evening rendezvous, the hullabaloo of the market chaos making a din like crickets on a hot summer day.
You could catch the people reciting orders of food and mothers bargaining with vendors on the price of ceramic jugs.
Hyunjin noticed the way your eyes sparkled, your lips pursing themselves in a smile he knew you were suppressing out of sheer excitement, and your eyes travelling greedily, taking in the scene in front of you. Markets, for whatever odd reason, excited you to no end.
You held on to your reasoning that somehow it was easy to blend in with the multitude of people and pretend you didn’t exist in a world where people were concerned about mundane things.
The lanterns strung high up, but not too high up, hadn’t been lit up yet. They would be soon though, because late afternoon marked the busiest time of the market. Fathers rushing home with candied pineapples wrapped in a local newspaper bag from the trusted man in his fifties, who sometimes gave away free candies to kids, young women looking for a hair piece and earrings to wear on dates - something pretty but not too expensive, orders of steamed buns in servings of a dozen ringing through the air, the steam rising off the heated pans sizzling with water and oil.
Everybody existed, and yet nobody paid attention. It was a happening experience.
In that seemingly bustling void of craziness, and people pushing past each other, yet not minding the shoulder bumps, your eyes found his.
Hyunjin was sure he would have missed it had he not been intently staring at you under the golden evening, but when your eyes lock he feels so grateful that even amongst thousands of people, you found him; you chose to find him.
It made him happy, his hand reaching out for yours and clasping together, eyes soft under your own sparkling ones. It’s times like this that he found his heart wavering; a clench of muscles that released the butterflies in his stomach.
You raise an eyebrow, bringing up your clasped hands and point at it with your chin.
“So I don’t lose you,” is his reply, and oh so befitting,
You don’t overlook the underlying meaning to his words, rather you choose to do so. Because if you didn’t, then you would have to question his intentions, and if that happened you might find yourself questioning whether you liked it or not, and that in turn would lead to confusion, because… surely, you weren’t supposed to like your best friend?
It was easy and a simpler route — ignore all complexities and just hold hands; no questions asked, no intentions suspected, just innocent hand holding. The action of placing your palm in the palm of another person and clasping them together under a slowly darkening sky lit up with orange and yellow lanterns that casted a sweet, charming glow on the handsome face of your best friend.
How stupidly romantic, and yet it was your own mind conjuring these things up. You just wanted to hold hands.
Hyunjin decided that he had stared long enough at your face, a flush rising up his neck that he entirely blamed upon the proximity of the steaming pan of the pastry seller. The sweet fragrance of cinnamon and honey was like amortentia and Hyunjin abashedly pulled you away from the stall, hand still holding yours.
You ended up roaming the streets for a good half an hour in search of your tonkatsu place, before you finally realised it was tucked away in a smaller alleyway in between two stalls that casted a shadow in the entrance. Hyunjin, as much as he liked you, was also pissed off when you kept making him run around in circles with a backpack on his shoulders and his hands growing uncomfortably sweaty in the heat.
Now, this was something Hyunjin hadn’t foreseen; physical touch was all good until you had the embarrassing memory of trying to live down the sweating due to nerves and heat. Still, he didn’t hate it as much as the first rose he had demolished.
Now that you both were finally fed and on the train back home, he had other things to worry about than just sweaty palms.
For one, you were wearing your bag up front, hugging the pastel blue fabric protectively with the knowledge that inside lay two paper bags of piping hot tonkatsu and sauce, carefully wrapped in plastic. This caused Hyunjin some pain, for the chain of your front pocket kept digging into his skin every now and then.
Secondly, this train was packed to the brim with people going home from work. The man behind him kept bumping into his back and resulted in him colliding with you… your bag, more like.
“Can’t you just wear the bag like it’s supposed to be worn? On your back?” Hyunjin hisses at you, his hand coming to rest on his chest after another collision.
“But what if someone steals my food?”
Your exclamation doesn’t amuse him, rather he looks at you like he wants to throw you off the train.
“(y/n), nobody wants to steal your cheap tonkatsu, okay?” he grimaces to make a point.
You feign a gasp of horror, hands patting your bag comfortingly.
“So what if they’re cheap? They’re the best ones I’ve ever had, and don’t you deny it,” you raise your voice when he’s about to interrupt, “You literally inhaled four plates of these cheap tonkotsu Hwang Hyunjin.”
He gives up when you pout at him, shaking his head in defeat.
The train stops at a station right then with a jolt and Hyunjin finds himself leaning over you, his free hand that wasn’t clutching the overhead handle reaching out to grab your flapping hands that had no support to resist the laws of inertia.
His fist encloses over your own, pulling you towards him so that he’s subjected to yet another assault from your bag but manages to not let you topple in a crowd of people behind you. The distance separating you is negligible, and had it not been for Hyunjin’s insane growth spurt in just a few months from when he turned fifteen, your face would have been smushed against his own, unlike now, when your nose crashed painfully against his chest.
“Oh my god, are you okay?” Hyunjin worriedly inquires, bending his head to your level to inspect the damage. Your eyes were tearing up and you were rubbing your nose that was tingling in pain.
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you sniff, blinking your tears back, “but what the hell, I swear your chest is just made of a rock.”
Of course you would blame him, how typical.
“So much for saving you,” he rolls his eyes, nevertheless, rubbing your nose with his thumb and pinching your cheek afterwards.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” you sulk, “you just prevented me from falling, not save my life or anything.”
“I’m thinking I should have just let you fall,” he deadpans.
You hit his chest softly, your hand finding its way to the hem of his shirt where it tucked at the fabric.
Hyunjin glances down at your fingers and then to your face, which was busy looking down at the interesting pattern of your shoes. With an inexplicable hesitance, he gently pries your fingers apart from his shirt and slips his hand in yours.
You hum contendendly, the noise going unnoticed and blending in with the buzz of the train machine.
Fifteen year old Hyunjin had at least got to hold your hand in his.
iii.
The second time you received a proper confession was in high school.
It wasn't the season of love, but then again, love blooms in every season. And it wasn’t Hyunjin.
The warm days were coming to an end, and you were starting to pull out all the sweaters and hoodies from the back of your closet.
Another set of examinations had just come to an end. This time Hyunjin had actually studied for his physics test rather than second guessing his answers and settling for option B after rounding up his decimals and digits in the first place which resulted in a consecutive row of option C on his answer sheet.. He even worked out the multiplication in a rough column on the left side of his page.
The reason for the sudden interest and desire to do well in the subject was because he had successively failed his prior minor tests, ranking at the bottom for this particular subject and if he didn’t get his grades up, there was a high chance of him failing at the end of the academic year even after a cumulative total was taken into consideration.
That and, if he didn’t get his grades up he was going to be debarred from applying under the performance arts department in university, which Hyunjin could not let happen. It was the sole reason he had been slaving away in the shabby dance studios after school every day.
The easiest way out of this to get you to tutor him.
Getting you to agree had been easy when you had agreed to do it voluntarily because you were as concerned as him about his grades, but for different reasons. Where you just wanted to graduate together, even though that meant Hyunjin barely passed his subjects, he was just worried he would have to settle for a mediocre college with a stream he didn’t like in the first place.
“Alright so, using Fleming's left hand rule, your forefinger is pointing towards the direction of the force field...see, ‘f’ for forefinger and ‘f’ for force field…”
“Yes and ‘f’ for fuck this shit.”
You sighed for the seventh time in the last five minutes, sitting back on the floor seeing how Hyunjin had given up not even half an hour under your tutelage, lying on his back with his arms spread out.
“It’s too hard, I can’t do this,” he groans, squirming around on your carpet and messing it up.
“I know,” you reply with a bored tone, “that’s like, the twentieth time you’ve said that since we started studying.”
“Oh you wouldn’t be so patronising had you been dumb like me,” he chastises, pointing an accusing finger and lifting his head to glare at yo with his double chin protruding out.
“I’m trying to make you less dumb, now get up and let’s at least finish this topic.”
Hyunin whines again, stomping his foot and messing the carpet under you further as he throws yet another tantrum. You grabbing the nearest cushion and throwing it at him only makes him act out more when it hits his face with a pouf.
“Come on future dancer, get off your ass and do it for that university you’ve been whining about,” you attempt at the psychology of backhanded guilt tripping, because it usually works on Hyunjin.
You know it does and yet you use it to make him work even though it makes you feel a little guilty.
Hyunjin lays silently on the ground, his fingers twitching under the signals his brain was sending him to get up and stop the guilty conscience he had unwittingly found out made his chest pang, but his limbs were locked in place and he was physically unable to get himself up from his sprawled position on your floor.
“If you do this and solve the questions I give you,” you start with a scheming tone, one that Hyunjin is too well acquainted with, “I’ll set you up on a date.”
Hyunjin doesn’t remember the last time he’s jolted up this fast. Not even when he had missed his first alarm and slept ten minutes into his usual routine which already made him late every morning, he had lain on his bed and rubbed his face, making no attempts at hurrying up.
Not even when you had rudely interrupted his Saturday morning sleep in time by jumping straight on his middle; he had merely groaned and kicked you out of his bed, facing away from you and curling up into a ball.
The knowledge that you were thinking - no, planning - on setting him up on a date was news to him. And quite a horrifying one at that, because he can’t remember the last time he ever talked of his dead love life to you, but if he didn't know better, he would have thought that the apparent stagnancy in his streak was binding on you.
What gave you such a ridiculous idea?
You scoff in disbelief, crossing your arms across your chest and humming in interest.
“Someone is eager.”
Hyunjin is annoyed at the way you smile at him; that devilish grin borne not out of a suppressed nonchalance but an impish excitement at the prospect of planning out his love life. He’s annoyed at your obliviousness and rightfully so because even to this date, he’s never loved someone as much as you.
Your grin makes him feel pathetic, vividly aware of the thin line separating you two from a platonic and romantic relationship. No he’s not frustrated over his unrequited feelings, it was your futile matchmaking and the fact that you ever thought he'd be interested in dating and dating someone who wasn't you.
His youthful crush weighs like a burden on him at that moment.
Why was it that you were so unimaginative? How could it be that you completely overlooked the p;ausability of you two being a thing?
He gulps thickly, an action which accomplishes nothing but pushing his already sinking heart further down, his body sagging under the weight of twelve years worth of crush that felt like a sack of cotton submerged in water.
His swimming instructor had told him that breathing was a crucial skill in the sport. It may appear simple, but knowing when to lift your head above the water and catch your breath is a skill that takes practise.
Despite the fact that Hyunjin had received an A in that class, he couldn't even recall how to breathe on land. It was akin to being under water, his limbs kicking insensibly at the water in an endeavor to resurface, but heavy chains attached to his ankles pulling him down the more he resisted.
In that moment he resented a little for stealing his breath away unannounced, and he meant it as literally as he could. He resented the way you observed him with a teasing glint in your eyes, as if you had him all figured out. You didn’t and you were so very wrong for thinking otherwise.
And he was so very wrong for not realising how your intended words that spring Saturday had an underlying message that he had neglected.
iv.
Contrary to how sweet strawberry milk Hyunjin was sipping on should have tasted, his mouth was left with a bitterness that he could physically feel at the back of his tongue.
“He asked you out on a date?”
His disdain is just short of the frown that he conceals under a hasty version of eyebrows shooting up in fake surprise.
You hum in confirmation, turning to a new page in your textbook and scribbling down the molecular formula for formaldehyde before forgetting. Hyunjin was perplexed by your indifference, which he perceived was likely because once you buried your nose in your books, not even the hottest most scandalous gossip being whispered around you would make you look up. It was surprising you were even acknowledging his presence in the middle of studying for your quiz tomorrow, and while that did raise red flags, Hyunjin decided not to pursue it.
Leaving the half empty carton of milk by your bedside table he finds respite on your bed, hugging a yellow throw cushion to his chest and fixing his gaze at the back of your head, meditating on his thoughts with a frown he had finally succumbed to.
Even though your attention was on the list of chemical terminologies you had highlighted with different colours based on their functional groups, it was hard to ignore the burning state directed at the back of your head. While it would have been seemingly easy for you to pretend not to address his glare, you were admittedly in a state of turmoil yourself.
The pastel pinks and blues on your text was starting to irritate you, coupled with the impatience you would feel a mile away radiating off Hyunjin, you decide you need to acknowledge this situation before you lose your sanity being subjected to the traumatic hellhole that high school education was.
(You heard from Felix that a girl in his class started having panic attacks when she was asked to solve a question on the board that was supposedly an important one for their finals. She had to be taken to the infirmary but she became so paranoid about missing class that she had to be sent back home)
Flinging your own across the table, you swivel your chair around so fast it makes Hyunjin flinch, raising a hand to his heart in shock.
"Holy shit, that scared me!'
"Alright, what is it? What do you want to know, just spit it out."
Hyunjin could be oblivious to a lot of things. For example, the pointed stares whenever he would fling his arm around your shoulder in the hallways, or the upset tears when he would have to politely turn down another confession. But he never fails to pick up your little quirks and behaviors.
You're not upset that often, but when you are you shut yourself off from people because you're too afraid of what you'll say if you do open your mouth. And when you're sad, for a reason or not because everybody's allowed to be a bit sad without a cause, your eyes lose focus as you stare off into space, lips turned down in a sad frown.
It's hard to miss the frustration lacing your voice now when it sounded almost like you were mad at him for it. And while you had your reasons, you don’t think you’re obligated to address the questioning frown on his face.
“I didn’t say anything!”
“Oh yeah,” you scoff, “you didn’t say anything, but the way you stare me down is nothing compared to it. It’s annoying!”
“I wasn’t going to say anything either, what so… now I can’t even look at you?”
“Of course you can look at me, but you’re doing that thing which annoys me.”
This argument was starting to get pettier by the minute, your immature remarks ricocheting off the walls like childish rebukes. ‘That thing’ you mentioned is something Hyunjin is unaware he’s doing unless you point it out.
It’s the frustratingly confused frown on his face along with his teeth biting on his nails (and he wonders why his nails look short and ugly).
“Well I’m annoyed too… no, not annoyed, but like… upset that I found out about my best friend being asked out from someone who isn’t my best friend!” his hands move in dramatic waves, the complaining ending with a sharp jab of his finger in the air pointed towards you.
“Well I was going to,” you defend yourself, “as soon as we got home. How was I supposed to know word would travel so fast? And if anything, it could have been a rumor, how could you believe it so easily?”
It was a rhetoric, a clear indication that this blame game could go on and on if you wanted; and Hyunjin believed in it because factually speaking, you were the smarter of the two and you made better points. He just yelled and made noises of disbelief.
Fighting was no new concept to you both and you had both accepted that as pretty as a relationship can be, sometimes a bit of yelling does one good more than harm. Neither of you liked the essence of it though, so it had been a pact you made him sign in middle school to not let it become a matter of concern, especially when you knew some insults could be a little too much to handle sometimes.
While you were more supportive of your arguments, Hyunjin had a more tactless approach, therefore, decidedly it was him who mostly backed down.
That’s what he does now because as much as he would hate to admit, you had a point and there was no reason for you to hide this from him.
He relaxes into your cushions, crossing his arms and pouting in defeat.
You knew this meant that he had more to say, but was giving you a chance to explain; much rather like a sulky kid letting their mother explain to them why two plus two equals four and not five; not a word would you get out of him until you were done.
“Alright,” you sigh, doing what you supposed you should have done yourself rather than wait for your best friend to interrogate you about it.
“Jeno asked me out at lunch today, and since you were nowhere to be found — by the way I waited like a fool in front of your class for ten whole minutes before someone told me you were in the dance room,” you scowl at him forgetting to mention it to you, his lips forming a small ‘o’ in revelation, then sheepishly falling into an apologetic smile.
“So then i was on my way to you, giving up on my precious lunch,” another scowl, “but I bumped into Jeno on the way who was nothing but sweet about it to me, and asked me what I was down in the basement, so I told him about going to find you, but apparently you already went to lunch?”
“Wait I can explain,” Hyunjin interjects, sitting up on your sheets, because now it was starting to feel like you were constantly reminding him of how things had come to this and it was all his fault, “the reason I didn't stop by your class was because I thought you would already be in the lunch hall and I could just meet you up there, and as for not telling you, it was an emergency meeting our instructor called so I had no way of letting you know…”
“Yeah okay,” you accepted his justification, albeit still a bit miffed about it, “So anyway, we just fell into a casual conversation while walking to lunch together, but then one of his friends… Haechan, I think? The one who’s always yelling at Mark in the football field… anyway, not my point — he appears out of nowhere and pounces on Jeno, so then I’m just kind of stuck waiting for Jeno because he did get cut off mid sentence, and it would be pretty rude of me to just leave,”
“Since when have you cared about being rude…” Hyunjin mumbles under his breath, hiding his pout with the pillow he was hugging. Thankfully you don't hear it, or you pretend you don’t.
“Well anyway, that’s how I missed my lunch and Jeno felt bad about it, so he offered to buy me a meal tomorrow,” you shrug.
“Wait, hold on… tomorrow?” Hyunjin is unable to hide the shock in his voice. He had no idea your date was tomorrow.
“Yeah…” it sounds more like ‘so what?’ as if this didn’t phase you in a bit.
“Besides, he just meant to grab a meal at the cafe at the intersection, and he didn’t really call it a date, although…”
“Although?”
Your hesitance hits Hyunjin like a wave of anxious foreboding, ankles crossing under his feet. Although what?
“I mean, he just said that… “call it a date, if you may”.”
The pink hue on your cheek is faint, but in Hyunjin’s mind they were exaggerated blooms of red brought upon you by a boy who was not him, and so was the small smile you tried to hide by clearing your throat and biting down on your lower lip.
Oh god, he was already starting to hate this so much, how would he stand it if you two started dating? Would he be the third wheel? Was he always going to be stuck watching you from the sideline as his flowery version of your very platonic friendship came crumbling down in wilting petals on a dead road? Would he have to finally give up on his unrequited feelings?
You know by now that Hyunjin goes uncharacteristically quiet when he tends to overthink, as his customary habit of biting on his plump lips (it’s important you mention plump, because that’s what makes it so hard to ignore — you swear people find it hot when he does that, but in actuality, he’s trying to choose between chocolate and strawberry milk.)
But Hyunjin is not trying to be hot right now, he doesn’t have to try to be fair, but he’s genuinely worried about something he knows he shouldn’t be. There were other important matters like his failing grades, the vase he broke three days ago and tried to hide until his mom found out this morning when he was leaving for school (he was sure to get a beating over that this evening) and prom.
Oh god, he was going to ask you out for prom, but he probably can’t anymore. Because you had yourself Jeno who was going to do that and you were going to dance with him and laugh at his stupid jokes even and blush at him through the entire evening.
And what was Hyunjin going to do? Stand in one corner of the room, sulking and frowning at being forgotten by his best friend, and spending the one thing he had been looking forward to since high school, just because some stupidly handsome guy whose smile made him look like an innocent puppy and had most of the girls in his year crush on him had asked you out on a stupid, stupid date... god he wished your date would be bad, and you would dump a smoothie on him—
“Hyunjin?”
Your third call is when he finally jolts out of his reverie, looking at you as if he were constipated.
“It's just a meal, I don’t even consider it a date, okay?”
Somehow, those words are successful in easing the tension in his body, an affirmation that he was urgently looking for somewhere at the back of his head that had been clouded by his judgement and over the top thoughts.
You’re not sure why you find the need to mollify Hyunjin in the first place. Because as oblivious as you tried to be of the gray area you and Hyunjin were dabbling in since…forever, did not obligate you into providing a sense of security to him. The only confession you remember receiving from him was when you were six and someone had squashed the flower he had given you with shaking hands and a trembling voice.
Perhaps you were hopeful of great things, but you would never admit it.
v.
It wasn’t a date, that’s what you had said.
So in Hyunin’s mind, those words had molded themselves in the form of a solid piece of metal with engravings on it that clearly stated, “It’s not a date, so there’s no reason for them to continue meeting up with each other after this.”
What he did not expect was for Jeno to be standing over your desk, minutes after the bell for lunch went off and laughing with you on whatever Hyunjin had missed.
Hyunjin had not seen you on the night of your… outing, with Lee Jeno, when you called him unexpectedly and rather tiredly said that you were going to bed early so you could complete your assignments early in the morning. While this was normal for you, and Hyunjin was used to your eccentricity, he was a little disappointed because he looked forward to hearing about your date... uh, outing (although he had accepted your reasoning the previous night, a part if him had hoped and even dreamt of you dumping a smoothie on Jeno’s head).
“So, how did it go?” was the first thing he asked you the next morning. Unlike you, he had the whole night to lay awake in bed, tossing and turning over the possibility that you had assured him had negligible chances of being true, but which in his over-wired mind had a fifty-fifty chance of being plausible.
He knew about Jeno’s charms, and he knew you were all for it.
Regardless, your small disruption in the library had been to glance at the said boy many times just because of the ruckus the other girls would make, all whispering and stuff, Hyunjin had noticed you exchange a smile or two with him sometimes.
Jeno had a nice personality, a cute smile and even cuter eyes that would disappear into crescents when he would smile. He had a soft voice, a gentle way of talking to people no matter how rude they were, and the only person who could tolerate Haechan.
If you think Hyunjin doesn’t know those were the very characteristics of your ideal type you had based your fictional oc upon (he caught you writing on one of those fanfic sites in middle school), then you would be wrong.
He never held this information as a leverage against you, but he was seriously contemplating doing so now.
It was relatively easy to feign his restless night had been devoted to only worrying about the occurrence of a potential smoothie dump, but it was difficult to ignore the answers he had unintentionally stumbled upon torturing himself with a rapid fire round of questions.
“It was fine, we just had some food and chatted.”
“Talked about what?” Hyunjin hoped his paranoia wasn’t showing.
“Oh just this and that, college plans, Ms. Oh’s stupidly difficult quizzes... you know, just casual stuff.”
You believed that your shrug and nonchalance were enough to convince Hyunjin that you didn’t consider last evening to be a date, and even if you did, you were sure as hell not going on another one. It was just friendly hanging out, just like you and Hyunjin… just like you and Hyunjin.
But why is it that he walks in on Jeno offering you to sit with him for lunch?
“Oh, that’s alright,” you smile up at him, “I’m gonna sit with Hyunjin.”
You point your chin to where he was standing, making Jeno turn around to glance at him and smile.
“That’s fine, enjoy your lunch.”
Jeno smiled and left, not sounding one bit upset for turning down his offer. See, that’s how Jeno was, kind and gentle and understanding. Hyunjin wishes he was a bit of a jerk so he could dislike him without feeling guilty about it.
“How was your quiz?” he pulls up a chair in front of your desk, plopping down on it and resting his elbows on your table.
You groan and bury your head in your arms, grabbing your hair with your fingers and pulling them slightly.
“Ugh, I forgot to write down the units.”
Hyunjin sympathises with your wailing, patting your head and smoothening your hair comfortingly. Everybody knew how Ms. Oh was absolutely anal about writing units; she would go as far as deducting a whole mark off five points if you forgot to write it or wrote the wrong one.
You poke your head out from between your elbows, peering up at him with pleading eyes. It takes a lot for Hyunjin to restrain himself from kissing you on the lips right then and there. He settles with pinching and squishing your cheeks, your face resembling a blowfish which makes him laugh.
“Stop it,” you whine at him, turning your face away to grieve in the passing away of your perfect A grade you had taken so much caution and meticulous efforts to maintain. Hyunjin isn’t sure why you’re this upset; sure you’re as anal as Ms. Oh about here units as you were for maintaining an above average report card, but surely this was you stressing too much?
“I think I messed up my last two questions,” you mumble so silently, he has to strain his ears to catch your words.
“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” he says softly, changing tact now that he realised you were genuinely upset.
“It is,” you wail again, drawing out the last syllable and glaring at Hyunjin. The glare turns to confusion and if he was seeing quite correctly, he thinks you may have started crying had you not blinked your tears back at the sight of his alarmed face.
This was all his fault. If your overall dropped because of a B on a subject you had slaved on for ages, you were so gonna blame him your entire life.
“Hey, I don’t know what’s going on but you can talk to me okay?”
His gentle voice breaks your frustrated streak and you instantly feel the tears at the back of your eyes trying to push past the barrier you were holding up. You bury your head deeper into your arms, nose touching the wooden surface of the table and feel the first tear roll down your cheek and fall on your palm. This was a dreadful position to be in while you cried, because now you wanted to sniff but you couldn’t because Hyunjin was sitting right there and you couldn’t let him hear you.
You nod your head, biting on your lips to stop the whimper threatening to come out of your mouth.
There’s a few times you have cried, not finding it in yourself to be fond of the action altogether. And in those times, you’d give yourself exactly five minutes, a little more sometimes to cry your tears out and then stop, wiping your cheeks and washing your face and fanning the redness off from your eyes till you deemed it satisfactory enough to be able to walk out of your bathroom without raising any concerns. You usually have a penchant for reserving this between the walls of your bathroom, but never your bedroom because anybody could walk in at any time and you don't want that, save for the singular occurrence in Hyunjin’s room back in middle school.
You were still learning the art of hiding your tears from people because a) you didn’t want them to worry about you, the attention was nothing but embarrassing to endure and b) because some people just never cared for them, and you couldn’t blame them for this.
You were sure you remembered why you had cried on Hyunjin’s bed that day, but you think it must have been something silly because you had forgotten now.
With a long sniff, you sit up, rubbing your cheeks with the sleeves of your shirt which get stained and face Hyunjin who was now looking at you flabbergasted.
And inaudible gasp makes his jaw drop at how silently you had relieved yourself in such a short span of time without letting it on and he felt terrible about it.
“Did you just cry? Without making a sound?”
You sniff again, unsurprised at why Hyunjin felt so deceived with the notion that you could do it while he was sitting right there in front of you.
“I’m fine now,” your voice is a little heavy, making you clear your throat, “is my face too red?”
“Okay what’s going on?” Hyunjin completely ignores your question, sitting up straight on his chair and fixing you with a look that was partly confused, surprised and concerned.
You shake your head with a wry smile, fanning your eyes as best as you could before lunch got over and the students came back, for it was just the two of you in the class right now.
“Sorry, I'm just a little stressed with the finals coming up and you know, I really don’t want to risk making such silly mistakes now.”
You hope your lie is passable to cross his radar of lie detection which he was surprisingly good at when it came to you. Maybe it was good enough, or maybe it was because you had just cried, your eyes red and nose flushed, but Hyunjin doesn’t say anything, meaning he bought it… for now or whatever.
It was convenient for you that the bell rang and a few students already trickled in, the ones who always started back for their classrooms two minutes before lunch was over so they could make it just in time and not have to get squished in a horde of scurrying students.
Hyunin can’t do much but push the chair back and stand up, pulling your head to his stomach and hugging you with another pat on your head.
“You can talk to me about this whenever you want, just don’t let it get to you, okay?”
You smile and nod up at him, and again Hyunjin is inclined to reach out and stroke your cheek and tuck the lock of hair behind your ear and gently kiss the sad smile away from your sad lips; and again he settles with a soft pinch on your cheek which was gentler than he had ever been with you and it almost throws you into another spiral of emotions.
This time though, your heart beats too loud for your own liking and you wish Hyunjin would stop.
vii.
“We need to talk,” you state, walking right up to the sweaty boy who looked surprised that you were there.
“Hey (y/n), everything okay?” Jeno asks, tucking the basketball under his arm and waving at the other members of the basketball team to go ahead without him. A few of them snicker and hoot, but he just sighs.
“It's about Hyunjin and… what you said the other day.”
Jeno tilts his head in confusion, brows furrowing cutely in a mock frown, “about what?”
You inhale deeply, feeling the air filling up your chest as you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear that didn’t need to be tucked back in the first place., seemingly unaware of the smile that Jeno was trying to hide.
“I think I like Hyunjin.”
“You think you like Hyunjin?” Jeno’s eyes crinkle up when he laughs in his sweet way, but the humor was lost on you when his chuckle sounded like he was ridiculing you.
“Are you laughing at me?” your disbelief stems from his gleeful expression which makes an inexplicable exasperation bubble in the pit of your stomach.
“And are you kidding?” he scoffs in good humor, “You more than like him, and I can’t believe I had to say it out loud for you to realise.”
“It’s not that! I’ve always liked him, but it’s just… I can’t possibly see us anywhere but the gray area we’ve been in for so long.”
“Because you’re already past the stage where romantic gestures like holding hands and sleeping on the same bed are considered platonic and now you’re not sure if what you’re feeling is an intense desire to kiss him or punch him in the face?”
You blush under the presumptive assertion that is an exact word to word report of what you have been feeling for so long. To make matters worse, the definitive judgement of his observation - of a third person’s observation - makes your heart drop, gulping at how obvious you would have had to be for him to notice.
“We haven’t slept on the same bed!” you cry in exasperation, cheeks flaming with every word you were near about forcing yourself to say. It’s true, the most you two had done was lay beside each other during lazy summer breaks and cuddled on the couch, but contrary to popular platonic culture, you had never found yourself in said predicament. The thought makes your chest leap out of your throat and you have to gulp to force it down.
“That’s not the point, the point is that you’re too afraid to own up to your feelings.” Jeno states as a matter-of-fact, “Who knows, he may actually like you.”
The way Jeno says it comes out as an equivalent as “two plus two equals four”; you can shrug off it’s opposing arguments because you know it’s true and factual.
“You don’t know that!”
Oh Jeno knows, and only too well. The supposed date that he had with you, one would have expected that you would have talked about yourself, but all you wanted to talk about was Hyunjin. What he likes, what he dislikes, his little quirks, his stupidly gleeful laugh that is infectious … all him, and all for him.
And you know this too.
You know Hyunjin likes you — has since forever. From the first day of kindergarten when his clumsy limbs had bumped into yours and toppled you both across the floor, and even though the cut on his knee was bleeding, he still kept apologising for the bruise on your elbow because you were crying so loudly. He wasn’t scared of being scolded, but genuinely scared that you were perhaps going to die given the way you were wailing about it.
When you were the clumsy one and tripped over your own foot in the playground, scraping your knees but this time just sniffling at the slight sting due to your injury, he had brushed off the dust from your clothes and led you to the nurse by your hand. Hyunjin doesn’t remember that he had in fact held your hand at the age of seven. He was so concerned about the tiny scratch across your knee, he hadn’t even noticed. If he knew, he probably would have been exhilarated.
When every single memorable moment of your life you’ve had him right beside your side, ready to share the happiness and the pain with you as long as you could be together. At one point just thinking about it had made you so feverishly happy, you had cried a small tear of gratitude that you had such an amazing person as your best friend who you were in love with.
But…
“What if he doesn’t like me?”
This question is something you had been hoping you would be able to answer for yourself, but in all these years you’ve never been able to discern between the love he shows you on the surface level and the one he stores safely in his heart that is only visible like a little twinkle in his eyes on the subway or the crowded streets of your favorite night market where it’s easy to blend in with the people, and your feelings are too entangled to tell apart. If it’s anything even close to what you feel for him, you have every valid reason to lose your sleep over it and mess up your math quiz that you studied hard for.
And you’re hoping Jeno can answer this, because you sure couldn’t do it yourself.
“And what makes you think that?” he asks, eyes softening at your dubious self. Your silence is not your inability to put your doubts in words, it’s the fear of saying something you might not like and may be true.
“You wouldn’t know unless you try (y/n),” Jeno’s soft voice breaks your silence, the empty court making his word sound louder than intended as the sun outside flushes it’s last rays.
vii.
Winter had finally set in.
The brown carpets of dead leaves were being swiped away and the branches of the trees were already naked. A slight nip in the wind was a signal to wrap scarves around your neck on the way to school.
And it was Christmas season.
December had started fairly well for you, for you had successfully been able to avoid your blooming feelings. You had hoped that the start of winter would be metaphorical to your feelings, cooling down, losing their sizzling fire, but if anything they were only amplified. You believe it's because of the common notion you’ve always had about winters being the most romantic season.
You had done a fair job in holding back on your feelings and a potential confession, but in actuality, being busy with your finals and college enrollment exams had made it easier for you to push those thoughts back at the back of your mind. Moreover Hyunjin had not questioned the way you had been avoiding his company, because it was normal for you to do so in exam season.
This, albeit making you feel guilty, worked in your favor because now was probably not a good time for misunderstandings. Not when in a few months you would be stepping out of the shielded walls of your school. The dread of losing friends and being hurled head first into the world of adulting had nothing on the dread of being separated from Hyunjin though.
Admittedly, you were excited for what was to come but at the same time it was the knowledge that eventually you would have to walk a path without him was scary. No matter where you went, you always had him by your side; on wide roads you would skip along the emptiness holding each other’s hands and on narrower ones you both squeezed yourselves, shoulders touching each others’ and laughing.
Now you only see a big, wide concrete path and no Hyunjin in sight and a looming uncertainty of whether he would ever be by your side again.
Perhaps the reason you had found yourself reluctant to confess even months after you admitted it to yourself was because you had inherently been too late to it. Had you done this earlier, hell even the starting of high school, you wouldn’t have been regretting it so much now.
It wasn’t whether Hyunjin loves you now, it was whether he would still love you even though he knew your time being inseparable had come to an end. Maybe that was why you never could find an answer in the first place, because you were reading the wrong question.
The start of Christmas break had slowly eased you in this tub of anxiety, where you found yourself flipping through years worth of memories captured in the cellophane pockets of albums.
Hyunjin would leave, and you knew he would.
He was hard-working and devoted to his passion, which he had come to hone in the past few years and there was no stopping him back, not even the assumed love he had for you. Hyunjin had to leave, no matter how much he loved you because that’s how things were and it didn’t need an explanation.
And it was you having to walk alone on a new path without him that scared you into clamming up your mouth.
“You wouldn’t know unless you try…”
Jeno’s words were like a stab to the heart, the bittersweet taste it left in its wake swirling and filling you up.
With the final steps over and a farewell to one chapter of your life, you had no reason to turn down Hyunjin’s incessant invitations to his house or blatantly refusing his video calls because believe it or not, you caught yourself in the mirror one day, and even you couldn’t deny the unmistakable worry etched upon your face.
But when Hyunjin invited you to an evening out to the old market street, you couldn’t push him away anymore. Reluctantly agreeing to accompany him for Christmas shopping, you forced a painful smile upon your face to his excited chattering.
That is how you find yourself wrapped in your thickest scarf and blowing puffs of cloud in the air on the middle of the old market street.
It was forever unchanging. No matter what season it was, the street was packed with people walking even closer to each than than before due to the biting cold; the red lamps strung up high and glowing like soft bright beacons through the fog, the steam of dumplings in a pan of oil and the sweet savory scent of honeyed pastries floating in the air.
Hyunjin was bent over a box of pretty bracelets and hair clips that he was thinking of buying for his cousins, the paper bag containing a small bottle of scent for his mother, tucked under his arm as he sorted through the colourful beaded accessories.
Hyunjin’s near cousins always visited them during Christmas, a tradition they had followed since childhood so that now even you referred to them as your sisters.
Deciding that he’d rather get them the silver lockets with cute charms hanging from them, he places the smaller paper bag inside the one with the perfume, storing it together in the inner breast pocket of his coat.
Immediately his hand reaches out for yours and curls his fingers around your cold ones, pulling you closer in doing so and you think you might as well combust right then and there. The feeling is nothing foreign and yet it makes you hold your breath.
“Have you bought my gift yet?” he asks happily, slowly ambling towards an unknown destination as the crowd let you both be engulfed in it’s wavelike motion.
Oh shit.
Of course you forgot. What with wallowing in self pity, you had forgotten to buy him a gift and there were only two days left until Christmas. Even if you scrounge the net in search of something to buy him, it wouldn't arrive until after Christmas was over. How could you have been so dumb?
“Uh…yeah,” you gulp, relieved that Hyunjin isn’t paying attention to you anymore, instead attracted to a stall with bright lights like a moth. You let him pull you towards it, stopping with an inaudible gasp of surprise in front of the stall.
Strings of small fairy lights hung from the canvas ceiling, swaying whenever someone took them in their hands for examination, or simply ran their fingers along them. You could see more such lights at the back, small dangling lanterns like a mobile over a child’s cot, strings of crystal like beads that cast streaks of small rainbows when they caught the light.
You both stare at the mesmerising curtain of lights, eyes slowly travelling from the different hues and colours, some blinking slowly and some dangling in the wind like small fireflies.
“It’s beautiful,” Hyunjin murmurs, squeezing your hand gently.
You turn to face him, his face blushing under the glow of warm colours, the rainbows playing a game of chase on his face that god seemed to have taken extra efforts carving out.
In that moment you feel a part of you slip away and land gently in front of the entrance to his heart, and you hope your gentle knocking is loud enough for him to open it for you. You desperately want a small piece of you to be a part of him, in whatever form he accepted it as, because your heart was filled to the brim with the love you had for him already.
Hyunjin senses your gaze on him and slowly brings his eyes to meet yours under the canopy of yellow stars and orange fireflies. For a moment his gaze flickers to your lips and you can feel yourself being pulled towards him, inch by inch, one small movement at a time like you would approach a kitten - cautious and gently to not scare it away.
The moment though is not meant to happen.
You understand, it's a busy street, probably not ideal for you to be kissing in the middle of it (if that was indeed what was intended to happen) and so with blushing cheeks you both step apart, the awkwardness easy to hide in the loud bustling of people around you.
The warmth of the closeness you had a few seconds prior an embarrassing wall of ice between you that burns you. It makes the back of your eyes prick with tears that can’t be explained, the disappointment of your rude awakening serving as a reminder that this was probably for the best.
You don’t hold hands the entire evening after that.
viii.
When on the night of Christmas eve, you are not bombarded with the customary Christmas memes and silly selfies with rudolph and santa filters, a part of you breaks. In fact you’re not met with a single notification from him.
What breaks you more is the emptiness in your chest and coldness in your fingers.
With nothing to do the entire day, because you had already stress-decorated the Christmas tree and had been shooed away by your mom when you almost burnt the Christmas chicken, you had resigned to cleaning your room.
Getting rid of the sheer amount of useless things you had collected felt like a therapeutic decluttering of your mind of equally unavailing thoughts. The room was strewn with all kinds of oddities. It was all in fair will when you stumbled upon a tin box that you didn’t remember owning.
With fumbling hands you managed to yield it open after some struggle and the first thing you saw was a familiar flower, dried and encased inside a transparent sheet. You were trying to forget, not be reminded of the things you were supposed to let go.
Now that you were holding it in your hands for the first time after twelve years of being stacked away under the mess that your cupboard was, it felt like an ancient wonder. The history attached to it came rushing back to you and you sighed at the sight of the dead petals; brown and crusty and on the verge of being crushed to smithereens if you took it out of its protection.
You don’t even remember saving this, only the agony of letting it get crumpled under someone's weight and the subsequent tears. Had you really intended on protecting it since the beginning? Had the six year old you invariably decided to protect Hyunjin’s heart?
With a trembling sigh you let the flower fall into your lap, and instead you rip off the blanket of safety you had covered yourself with, letting the tears that were long overdue finally escape.
You wish the eighteen year old you had been as brave to protect Hyunjin’s heart.
There’s a lot of things Hyunjin wasn’t expecting for Christmas.
For one, he didn’t think his father would gift him the old battered up car that he had been so insistent on driving just so he could take you out on rides and boast about owning a car. It wasn’t a brand new gift, but Hyunjin was more than happy to receive it. At least, he’s sure he would be as soon as the dismay at the pit of his stomach died down. That’s what he convinced himself.
Secondly he didn't think it was possible that he could spend an entire day without texting or calling you even once. The radio silence on your end made him apprehensive, because he knew that you knew what the night at the market had meant, and what it could have possibly ended in.
Thirdly, he never thought that Christmas could ever feel so lonely even with all the people around him, laughing cheerfully and chattering merrily. Christmas had never ever felt so depressing, and he had never hated this festival more than he did now.
Fourthly, he never thought that being in the same room with you could make him feel nervous to the point that it made it impossible for him to even spare you a proper glance.
You had dreaded going over to the Hwang’s for Christmas too, and had almost contemplated feigning a cold. But that would have been a very petty thing to do, and another thing to put down in your list of regret.
Thankfully no one had questioned the way you both had mostly resigned yourselves to the opposite corners of the room and not interacted except the one time you found yourself reaching out for the bowl of chips, but before Hyunjin could confront you, you had already hurried off to god knows where.
You were avoiding him, and although he took the hint he wanted nothing more than to speak to you; hear your voice and hold your hand and look you in the eyes rather than stealing glances at you across his cup of hot chocolate and kiss you… god he wanted to turn back time so badly.
It wasn’t until the late hours of the evening, when everyone had assembled in the living room, forming small groups and chatting softly into the night that he missed your presence.
He spotted your figure quietly slipping out into his backyard, away from the eyes of people, following you not long after.
“Hey you,” he says softly into the night, shivering at the wind nipping at his cheeks.
“Hey,” you greeted back simply, lifting your eyes only long enough to capture his face.
The silence that falls is hostile, no longer carrying the sense of comfort with it; an exceptional occurrence that pains you both.
“Merry Christmas,” he says, holding out a red and white paper bag towards you and forcing a smile on his lips.
You take the bag from his hands, casting him an anxious look that he notices and tries to soothe with a soft smile.
“Thank you.”
“Aren’t you going to open it?”
“I... should I do it now?”
He nods at you comfortingly, and motions for you to go ahead. You think fate is playing a bad joke on you.
You recognise the small orange balls of light before you even finish unwrapping the present, a painful reminder of last night. It chokes you up and makes your hands tremble. You don’t know what to say, or where to look.
Hyunjin thinks he’s being cruel, he definitely feels his chest rip apart, but then he sees you smiling. Before he knows it, you have your arms around him in the tightest hug you could muster.
He stumbles back when you fling yourself at him, but finds himself letting out a breath of relieved laughter and hugs you back, holding you closer than he has ever before. He wishes he can capture this moment to relive it countless times; to feel your lips brushing against his neck, the whiff of citrus scent of your shampoo and the feeling of your chest pressed against his.
“I have something for you too,” you say, breaking the hug and Hyunjin almost frowns at the absence of your warmth against him.
Slowly, you pull out the small rectangular box in your pocket you had been clutching the entire night and hand it out to him.
“Merry Christmas Hyunjin,” you smile just as he opens the box and a flash of recognition passes across his face.
For a moment Hyunjon can do nothing but stare at the box in his hand, delicately picking up the contents within it. Then without a word he leans over and places his lips over yours
Kissing you was nothing like he had imagined it would have been — the sweet, pure symphony of lips, moving softly against each other’s in a confession of innocent love — it was more than that; a longing passion that burned when your lips met and your cold fingers at the back of his neck. It was aggressive and messy, a twelve year long wait coming to an end and the desperate urgency to get your feelings across to each other and feel the warmth of your lips in the biting cold.
Under the clear sky that was ironically bereft of any stars as he had expected it to be when he had imagined kissing you under a canopy of stars, you don’t feel the need to put your feelings into words, you already know and he knows too.
Hyunjin doesn’t think he’s ever received a better present in his life and grins down at the delicate flower sitting inside the box you had given him, wrapped carefully in a transparent sheet.
53 notes
·
View notes
Picture Us (Together Forever)
Word Count: 26,115
ACOTAR masterlist
__________
TW: mentioned past homelessness, mentioned past abuse, referenced death & suicide
__________
A/N: For @simpingfornestaarcheron, one year late. A huge thank you to @bookstantrash for all your help with everything from brainstorming to beta reading and editing! You're the reason I actually managed to complete this fic. Credit @vidalinav for the 'Cassian's love is loud' concept, which is so ingrained in his character for me that I always end up including it.
I know I haven't posted anything for over a year and a half — I've been busy with college and have gotten into other fandoms — but I hope this long, fluffy fic makes up for my absence. Honestly, it's probably the fluffiest thing I'll ever write of this length. Also, the number of blocks in this post exceeded the Tumblr post limit, so I edited the paragraph layout to fit. The original version is posted on ao3. Please enjoy!
Present day
“Hey, sorry I got a little late,” Nesta announced as she stepped into the apartment she shared with her boyfriend, Cassian. “I got held up at work because some people apparently think my job is to do everything,” she explained as she took off her coat and undid her scarf. “Eris now seems to believe that I’m a secretary and that it’s my job to deal with all the parents who want to sign their kids up for lessons or have questions about our hours. Can you believe that Vassa expects me to cover Eris’ class next Tuesday during my lunch break because he ‘has to be out of town to go apple picking’? And then, to top it off, Briallyn came to talk to me about how some people want the rehearsals for The Firebird to be at a different time. Just because I’m one of the principal dancers doesn’t mean I coordinate the rehearsal times! I don’t know why she doesn’t just talk to the director or choreographer, honestly. It’s so-”
Nesta turned around and fell silent, her eyes widening as she took in the sight before her. The living room was decorated with candles and flowers. Rose petals were lined up on the floor, creating a walkway that led to the coffee table, which was covered in a white tablecloth. Behind the table stood Cassian, wearing a wine-red colored button-down shirt, black pants, and a soft smile.
“Cassian?” she asked, her confusion evident in her tone. Had she forgotten some important occasion? Nesta quickly ran through the list in her head. But, no, it wasn’t either of their birthdays, or their anniversary, or Valentine’s Day… So why had Cassian done all this? Sure, he had given her flowers ‘just because’ or organized impromptu date nights before, but this was on a whole different level. “What’s going on?”
Cassian’s grin split into an open-toothed smile, even as intensity and slight nervousness swam in his eyes. “Nesta, we met five years ago in the line for tickets to the Bone Carver concert, when you yelled at me for letting my friends cut the line. I turned around to yell right back, and the moment I did, my life changed. You’ve made my life so much better, in so many ways I can’t even find the words to describe. Every day with you is like a dream come true. We’ve made so many fantastic memories together over the years.”
He pulled the tablecloth off the coffee table in a sweeping motion. Nesta inhaled sharply as she took in the collection of polaroid pictures, recalling different special moments in their relationship. The collection was decorated with small doodles that Cassian had clearly drawn himself.
She sank down to her knees in front of the table.
“Cassian…” Nesta whispered, “This is beautiful.”
Her eyes drifted across the paper, until they came to rest on a single photo. Her hand reached out as if she wanted to caress the image, but floated just a hair’s breadth away from it like it was too precious to bear her touch.
Cassian kneeled down too, and glanced down at the photo she was looking at. He laughed, “Oh, yes. The bookstore date, where you used me as a human bookshelf.”
The corners of Nesta’s lips turned up. “Listen, I just wanted you to know what you were really signing up for.”
Cassian chuckled.
__________
Five years ago
“Where are you taking me?” Nesta asked for the sixth time.
Cassian once again responded by shushing her, his eyes fixed on the road.
Nesta sighed. Cassian had somehow managed to drive without using a GPS (a novel feat for him) so she couldn’t even peek at it to figure out their destination. Cassian clearly hadn’t considered how impatient Nesta was when he’d decided to plan a surprise for her.
Nesta knew she should just sit back in her seat, relax, and enjoy whatever Cassian wanted to surprise her with, but she couldn’t. It wasn’t that she wasn’t excited — of course she was, and she was touched that Cassian had gone through all this effort just to plan a surprise for her. But Nesta couldn’t help but be filled with anxiety. She didn’t always react well to situations she was thrust into unexpectedly, and she wished she at least had a hint about where they were going so that she could prepare accordingly. She didn’t want to start freaking out and push Cassian away, destroying the tentative relationship they had just started to build.
She trusted Cassian and knew he’d never intentionally put her in a situation that made her uncomfortable. They had met about three months ago and he’d asked her out soon after. Although they hadn’t made anything official yet, Cassian was always so caring and kind to her, more than any of her exes. He always made her laugh and brought her Earl Grey tea with just the right amount of 2% milk. He’d given her his scarf when he’d noticed that she was cold and had never asked for it back. He loved to play with her hair, creating intricate braids as his hands tenderly massaged her head. His body was honed from ice hockey training and he towered over her, and yet he had never once made her nervous or uncomfortable, even when they had been two strangers arguing in line.
Still, there were many things that Nesta had yet to tell Cassian about. While his gentle sweetness was making her walls come down, bit by bit, she was struggling to open up fully. She didn’t want to risk scaring him away and ruining everything they’d created.
All in all, she knew Cassian would never try to make her uncomfortable, but there were many things that could set her off that he didn’t know about. If she started freaking out, and she lost him… It was stupid of her to get so attached to someone so quickly. He wasn’t even her boyfriend, for gods’ sake! Only her closest friends knew they were together. They weren’t keeping their relationship a secret, exactly, but telling everyone would put pressure on their relationship that they weren’t ready for.
Cassian’s best friend, Rhysand, was dating Nesta’s youngest sister, Feyre. The two of them had met on a dating app called Bond a couple weeks after Nesta and Cassian’s encounter. They’d fallen head over heels in love with each other, and had moved in together after just one month. Feyre kept texting the Archeron sisters’ group chat about how much she loved Rhys and how she wanted to marry him.
Nesta and Cassian needed to take their relationship at their own pace — meaning much, much slower than Feyre and Rhys. If Nesta and Cassian made it official and then broke up later… well, Nesta didn’t want to have to deal with gossip and pitying glances whenever they were at the same place together on top of everything else. Plus, she knew her sisters were nosy romantics who would start asking about going on double dates, planning Nesta and Cassian’s wedding, and making lists of their future babies’ names.
She couldn’t deal with all of that right now. When her last serious relationship had ended, she’d been left with bruises, a mountain of trust issues, and not much else. It had taken her a long time to put herself back out there again — to trust others with her body, much less her heart. Cassian had proved himself a worthy candidate, willing to be patient with her and put her at ease to help her let her guard down.
What it boiled down to was that she cared about him, far more than she probably should, and it scared the crap out of her. But she was even more afraid of losing him.
“Alright, we’re here!” Cassian’s voice cut through her spiraling thoughts. “Close your eyes.”
Nesta took off her seatbelt and did as he asked. Her heart beat erratically in her chest. She listened to the click of Cassian unbuckling his seatbelt and the boom of his car door shutting. A cold breeze hit her as her door opened. She felt Cassian’s large, calloused hand slide into hers, guiding her as she stepped out of the car.
“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked.
“Mhmm,” she replied vaguely.
A boom sounded, followed by a quick beep beep, indicating Cassian had locked the car.
“We’re almost there, I promise.”
He stood behind her and his hands came to rest on her shoulders, gently turning her to the right and then guiding her path. They walked in silence. Nesta was glad she’d thought to put on a sweater and a jacket as the chilly autumn wind swept past them again.
Cassian suddenly stopped her and turned her body to the left.
“Okay,” he said, leaning down to whisper in her ear. His breath was hot against her neck. She shivered. “We’re here.”
She opened her eyes, and gasped.
A blue sign with the words “Pegasus Book Company” hung above a blue-framed door. A bell chimed as she entered the shop. Pegasus Book Company was one of the hidden gems of Prythian. Despite being an independent bookstore, it was quite large and well-stocked in many different genres. They also displayed artwork from local artists, which they changed every season. Most of all, the owner, Helion Spell-Cleaver, was said to be amazing at giving book recommendations. Nesta had always wanted to visit Pegasus, but she’d never found the time to drive all the way to Hemera District just to visit one store. She had only mentioned it to Cassian once in the passing. She couldn’t believe that he’d remembered and done this for her.
“Cassian…” She whispered, her voice full of awe and gratitude. She turned to find him with an uncharacteristically shy smile on his face.
“Surprise,” he said softly. “Sorry that I made you wait to know where we were going. I wanted to surprise you, but I know I made you kind of nervous when I didn’t tell you where I was driving to. Is it ok? I’m sorry if it felt like I was abducting you. I just wanted to, uh, not ruin the surprise.”
Nesta couldn’t find the words to explain how happy his surprise had made her. Instead, she pressed her lips to his and let the kiss express her feelings.
When they finally pulled apart, her lips formed a smile that she couldn’t suppress if she tried and she added a quiet and genuine “Thank you.”
She hoped he could read the emotions in her voice and her eyes to understand how much the thoughtful gesture meant to her. His nervous ramble, while unnecessary given how fantastic the surprise was, just showed how much he cared about her. She didn’t know how to handle such affection and kindness. She felt as though she’d cry or melt or burst with everything he made her feel. He treated her as though she were precious and beautiful, worthy of compassion and care, like her company was a gift. As though she mattered.
Later, as he carried the numerous books she selected and listened attentively to her rants about different characters, books, and authors, she was overwhelmed by the pure joy she felt and some other emotion that it was far too soon for her to name.
Cassian was special — she’d known it since the moment they’d met, when her sharpness had intrigued him rather than pushed him away. He was so perfect and amazing, and yet cared about her so much that she was still in disbelief. The dread that he would wake up one day and realize that she wasn’t worth the trouble was constantly present, and made her hesitant to give him her all for fear of him shattering her completely.
But it was already too late.
She wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all herself, by not putting a label on things. It didn’t change how much she cared about him or how she didn’t want to think about him ever leaving her life. It was only hurting her, and more importantly, him. Nesta knew that her fears and her trauma often made her struggle to express her emotions. She never wanted Cassian to doubt how much he meant to her. Yet, it always felt like Cassian was the one doing things for her: he was the one who had asked for her number, the one who usually texted first and planned their dates, and the one who gave her meaningful gifts and surprises. He never hesitated to show or tell her how much he cared.
What if he didn’t know? She wondered suddenly. What if he genuinely thought that Nesta didn’t care as much — that their relationship didn’t mean as much to her as it did to him? The despair that the thought brought her was shocking in its intensity.
So as Cassian sat down in the driver’s seat, ready to turn on the car, Nesta blurted out, “Wait!”
He turned towards her, his face showing his surprise and concern. She acted instinctively, reaching over to pull his hands towards hers and then interlacing their fingers. She took a deep breath as she steeled her resolve. Cassian’s thumb slowly moved back and forth over her hand in a soothing gesture. He’d evidently noticed her nerves. His soft, silent support served to strengthen her determination that she had to do this.
“Cassian, thank you so much for today,” she began. “It was such an amazing, thoughtful surprise. I really, really enjoyed it.”
She paused, considering her next words.
“The past few months have been incredible. I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you. And I-”
“Wait! Nesta, please don’t,” Cassian interrupted. His body had gone tense and his eyes were dull in a way she’d never seen before. His hands had grown sweaty in hers.
Nesta felt her heart drop. It was too soon, wasn’t it? Oh, gods, what had she been thinking? She’d misread the whole situation. If Cassian had wanted to put a label on their relationship, he would have asked. It was incredibly selfish of her to assume that she was the only one who’d had hangups about it. He would also be put in an awkward situation with Rhys and Feyre. And really, she and Cassian had only known each other for three months. Why had she thought that she should do this? As usual, she was ruining everything by moving too fast and being too intense.
Cassian continued, his voice choking up slightly, “I know I can be- it can be too much, but I promise, I’ll- we can- this can be whatever you want. We can talk about it and I’ll- I can reel it in. I mean, I’ll respect your boundaries and, uh, wishes and, just. Please, we don’t need to end this completely, just- I-”
He cut himself off as Nesta untangled one of her hands from his.
“No, wait,” he rushed, his eyes widening in alarm, “if that’s what you really want, then of course I’ll respect it, I just wanted- but- I mean, can we at least stay fr-”
He was cut off again, this time by Nesta’s pointer finger pressing into his lips.
“Cassian,” she said, in a strong, confident, and reassuring voice, “will you be my boyfriend?”
His expression morphed instantly, shock and joy flitting over his face.
Nesta waited patiently, sitting in silence, awaiting his answer. She watched as Cassian’s free hand moved to his thigh, which he pinched more than once. Finally, he met her eyes. His mouth was barely curved upwards, as if he was too astonished and emotional to form a smile.
“Yes,” he replied.
Cassian’s hand came up to rest ever-so-gently on her cheek as their lips met for a kiss. As they continued to get lost in each other, kissing in the middle of the day in a car parked on the side of a street, Nesta knew that this was what all those fairytales and romance novels were made of.
__________
Present day
“I can’t believe you actually thought I was going to break up with you,” Nesta laughed, shaking her head. “Right after I complimented you, too.”
Cassian shrugged. “It’s a foster kid thing,” he said lightly. “If someone’s being too nice, it just feels like they’re trying to let you down gently.”
Nesta leaned across the table to press a kiss to his cheek in what she hoped was a reassuring gesture.
“I’m never going to leave you, stupid,” she said. “You’re stuck with me forever.”
Cassian smirked. “I sure hope so.”
His eyes moved left to the next polaroid and his hand followed suit, coming to rest right above the image.
“Do you remember that day?” he asked, tapping his pointer finger on the table. “I was so nervous.”
“What? Why were you nervous? I was the one performing!”
__________
Five years ago
“Do you think the tie is too tight?” Cassian asked, pacing in front of the bathroom mirror. “Did I do it wrong? Fuck, do you think it’s too colorful for a formal event? Maybe I should change it to black?”
“Breath, Cassian, breath,” Azriel replied, half-serious.
Cassian rolled his eyes. “C’mon, Az,” he pleaded.
“You look fine, Cassian. It’s going to go great. Don’t worry.”
Cassian was still fiddling with his tie. “And you don’t think the color is too much?”
Azriel raised an eyebrow. “It’s burgundy.”
Cassian continued to questioningly stare at Azriel.
Az sighed. “The color is fine. The tie is perfect.” He grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair. “Let’s get going.”
“Oh, shit, are we late?” Cassian scrambled to grab his suit jacket, his keys, and his wallet. Where were those flowers he’d bought? “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have spent so much time worrying about my fucking tie.” He could have sworn he’d left them on the dining table, but that was empty save for the collection of books, papers, and notebooks that Azriel had organized into neat piles. Cassian checked the kitchen counters, only to find them empty, too. Had he put them in his room? He really needed to get more organized. They were already getting late, and he was going to further delay them. “You know what, just let me- You go ahead, I’ll catch up with you later, once I find the bouquet.”
“Cassian. Cassian!” Azriel snapped his fingers. Cassian paused his frantic search to look at Azriel, who was carrying Cassian’s bouquet in his arms along with two others. “I’ve got it, see? Now, let’s go.”
Before Cassian could open his mouth, Az added, “We’re not late, don’t worry.”
As they entered Bryaxis Hall, where the performance was being held, Cassian expected to feel the last of his nerves disappear.
As soon as he stepped inside, he realized how wrong he was.
The hall was decadent. The ceiling was higher than a three-story house, the floor was marble with a simple yet elegant carpet running down the center, and Greco-roman pillars with intricate designs lined the hall. A chandelier hung above the grand staircase. The walls were decorated with high relief panels, each portraying a distinct myth or story.
He followed Azriel up the stairs in silence. He was too consumed by the message every piece of architecture and decoration seemed to be yelling at him: he didn’t belong here.
It wasn’t like he’d never been to a fancy party before: the NHL had plenty of galas, but even when he was surrounded by his teammates and friends, he always felt like a fraud in a suit.
Cassian wasn’t meant for luxuries and refinement. He’d grown up dirt poor, even when his mother had still been around. After her death, he’d essentially lived out of a backpack. He’d even spent a few nights out on the streets when he’d been placed in particularly bad foster homes. Until he’d met Shirina, Rhysand’s mother, he had never even eaten chocolate — at least that he could remember.
He’d only been to watch ballet once before. Shirina had insisted that they see the Nutcracker for Yule, as that had been a tradition in her family. Rhys, being the eleven-year-old that he was, had complained the whole way about being dragged there against his will. Ayla, Rhys’ younger sister, had grumbled about having to watch the Nutcracker again, instead of seeing something different like Swan Lake. Cassian had remained silent. At twelve, he didn’t want to admit that he was interested and excited, for fear of appearing uncool. Still, he was curious and was glad that Shirina had remained insistent despite her children’s protests.
The ballet had enraptured him. He sat there, amazed by the graceful movements, the silent jumps, the whip-fast pirouettes, and the perfectly synchronized motions.
Now, as he glanced down at the playbill, he felt completely unqualified to be here. He had no idea what La Bayadère was about — quite frankly, he wouldn’t even know how to pronounce it if Nesta hadn’t told him. He didn’t know any of the ballet terminology, either. How was he going to tell Nesta what he thought of the performance if he didn’t even know how to verbalize it?
He glanced over at Azriel, hoping to gain some insight. Azriel was close friends with Nesta and two of Nesta’s ballerina friends, Gwyn and Emerie, who were also in tonight’s ballet. Right as Cassian was about to ask, the lights dimmed and the audience fell silent.
Cassian worried whether he would be able to focus on the performance with all of his anxieties swirling around his head. Nesta deserved his full attention — she had been practicing for this for so long, and had poured her heart and soul into her ballet. There were so many times when she’d been late to dates, staying back in her studio to practice a move that she wanted to perfect.
But Cassian needn’t have worried. The moment the ballet began, he was completely in its thrall. All his thoughts fled. He sat there, mesmerized, as the ballerinas danced. When Nesta entered, his breath caught in his throat. She was radiant on stage, looking like a goddess, a queen, and a warrior-princess all wrapped up in one.
After the show, when he handed her the bouquet and told her how incredible she’d been on stage, her expression made it all worth it. Her cheeks, flushed with exhaustion, were rounded as her mouth split into a jubilant smile. Her eyes were awed, as if she was so grateful for his words and presence but couldn’t quite believe he was here. Despite all of his anxieties, he wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else.
And as Cassian drove home, he realized he couldn’t wait to see Nesta’s next ballet performance.
__________
Present day
“It really did mean the world to me that you came, you know,” Nesta admitted. “And I was so nervous about what you’d think.”
“Of course I was impressed! Anyone in their right mind would be.” His comment was light. There was no need to mention that Nesta’s ex, Tomas, had considered her job to be a ‘useless passion’ that ‘should only be a hobby’. Both of them knew Tomas was a hateful piece of shit who had done his best to drag Nesta down, and were infinitely grateful that she’d gotten away from him.
Nesta shot Cassian a small smile before turning back to the pictures.
“Oh! The snowball fight!” She snorted. “Don’t show this to Rhys and Az, we don’t want to remind them.”
Cassian rolled his eyes, grinning. “They’re big babies.”
__________
Five years ago
Nesta turned around, startled, as someone tapped her shoulder.
She had been shoveling snow for the last thirty minutes in the dim light of the rising sun. Normally, she loved lying around in bed on snowy days. She was content to sit inside, drinking hot chocolate, watching the world through the window and feeling as though she had been transported inside a snow globe. One of the few perks of living in an apartment was that she didn’t need to shovel snow.
Last night, however, she had stayed over at Cassian’s townhouse. Cassian’s roommate, Azriel, had gone out, presumably to spend the night with someone. Nesta considered Az to be a friend, but he was extremely private; she had no idea if he was seeing someone, let alone who that someone might be.
Nesta turned around.
Cassian was standing there, arms crossed, with one eyebrow raised. “Nesta, why didn’t you wake me up?”
Nesta rolled her eyes and turned back around to keep shoveling. “You’re sore.”
She hadn’t expected to wake up to snow piled up almost five centimeters on the ground. It was the first snow of the winter, and she wanted nothing more than to watch the snow fall from the warmth of Cassian’s bed, curled up against her boyfriend.
Then, she recalled the numerous bruises and cuts on Cassian’s body that she’d tended to yesterday. He had gotten thoroughly roughed up at his game, though when she’d remarked on it, he’d just laughed and replied that this didn’t even count as getting injured in ice hockey. Still, she’d seen him wincing as he reached to the left when he thought she wasn’t looking.
So when she’d seen the snow this morning, she’d decided that, instead of going back to sleep, she would shovel the entire walkway and driveway before Cassian woke up.
Clearly, she’d failed.
“I’m fine!” Cassian replied, just as Nesta had anticipated. “I’m not-”
Nesta cut him off by shushing him.
She had a little less than half the driveway left to shovel. She was adept at the art of ignoring someone trying to talk to you: after all, she’d grown up with two little sisters. So as Cassian continued to complain that he was not actually hurt and tried to convince her to hand over the shovel, she just tuned him out and focused on her task. She was making pretty good progress, in her opinion. Sure, her fingers were a little cold even in her gloves, but the desire to keep going and not let Cassian help at all motivated her. The spite kept her warm.
She was almost a third way done when she heard coughing. She stopped abruptly and turned to Cassian, who was wiping snow off of his face.
Her eyes widened. “Oh my gods! I’m so sorry!”
Cassian just laughed. “What, you didn’t mean to cover me in snow?”
He leaned down and grabbed a fist full of snow. “Let me show you a faster way to get rid of all this snow, sweetheart.” Nesta barely had time to duck before the snowball flew in her direction.
Abandoning the shovel, she ran away from him. Then, she made her own snowball, which she hid in her hand as she smiled at Cassian innocently. He smiled back and walked towards her until- Wham! Her snowball hit him square in the chest.
Nesta cheered.
He gasped “Betrayal!”
As she dodged his next snowball by a hair’s breadth, she stuck her tongue out at him.
Her cold dissipated as their snowball fight continued. The progress she’d made on the driveway and walkway had definitely been ruined, but she found that she couldn’t care less. Twenty minutes later, when they went back inside, covered in snow, both of them were grinning ear to ear.
It wasn’t until after they’d showered, changed, and were sipping hot chocolate that Cassian exclaimed, “Shit!”
His drink sloshed, spilling out of his mug. Nesta took a large sip of her hot chocolate — it really did taste divine with marshmallows — and looked at him questioningly over the rim of her mug.
“You can’t tell Rhys,” Cassian pleaded. “He wouldn’t understand. We need to keep this a secret.”
“What, that I had a snowball fight with my boyfriend?” Nesta answered incredulously.
Cassian’s face, however, was completely serious. “Yes.”
“I wasn’t planning on telling him,” Nesta said, struggling not to laugh, “but now I’m curious to see what’ll happen, so…”
“No!” Cassian’s eyes went wide. “You see, every year, when it first snows, Rhys, Az, and I have a snowball fight. It’s a tradition we’ve had for years. If they find out that I had a snowball fight with you first…” Cassian shook his head, as if the possibilities were too horrific to even consider.
“So basically, you cheated on them with me?” A drop of hot chocolate spilled over and ran down the side of Nesta’s mug. She caught it with her finger, which she then brought to her lips.
Cassian’s eyes followed her finger. His Adam's apple bobbed as her finger left her mouth with a pop.
“I, uh, yeah.” He cleared his throat.
She smirked. “Well, I haven’t told them, but I did tell Gwyn and Emerie in our group chat when they asked what I was up to, so Az is definitely going to find out.”
Cassian groaned, putting his face in his hands. Nesta just continued sipping her hot chocolate, laughing quietly.
__________
Present day
“They’re definitely going to hold that against us forever,” Cassian sighed. “They were so mad. That whole winter, I had to watch my back. They just kept pelting me with snowballs whenever they got the chance.”
“It was hilarious,” Nesta grinned. Then, catching Cassian’s look, she corrected herself. “I mean, it was very terrifying.” She tried for a serious expression but failed, erupting into laughter.
Cassian rolled his eyes, but she could see the smile he was trying to suppress.
“You know what else they’re going to hold against me forever?” Nesta pointed at the polaroid right under the one they’d been looking at. “This. I think I almost gave them heart attacks.”
“Oh, yes. Now, that was hilarious,” Cassian agreed.
__________
Four years ago
Vroom.
Nesta pulled up to the front of the lane, right as the light turned red. Sighing, she raised her face shield.
She turned to the right, glancing absently at the car in the lane next to her. It was a black Mercedes-Benz, the same car Rhysand owned. As she looked through the rolled-down driver’s seat window, she realized that it was literally the same car, because Rhys was the one driving.
She called out to him, and he turned towards her — then did a double take.
“You- wha- how are you driving Cassian’s motorcycle?” Rhys spluttered.
Azriel’s head peeked out behind Rhys’. They sported matching shocked expressions, complete with comically wide eyes, raised eyebrows, and parted lips.
Nesta smirked. “It’s quite easy, actually. I wasn’t sure how I’d do, since I’d never driven a motorcycle before but,” Nesta patted the handles, “she’s a smooth ride.”
That was not what they’d meant by their question.
Cassian had always dreamed of owning a motorcycle. After going through his finances and realizing that he could afford one now without stretching himself out too thin, he’d finally bought one last week.
The motorcycle was his prized possession and he was fiercely protective of it. He took the time to polish it after each ride, checking to make sure there wasn’t a single scratch on his treasure. Rhys and Az had been begging to ride it ever since he’d gotten it, but he’d starkly refused, claiming they were both too irresponsible. It was laughable, because Azriel was easily the most responsible member of their trio, but even he wasn’t allowed to do more than look at it. When Az had run a single finger across the paint, Cassian had pulled him away, declaring that Azriel was being too rough and that he clearly hadn’t thought about how the oils from his fingers would interact with the materials on the bike to shorten its lifespan. Azriel had pointed out that the motorcycle was meant to be ridden, but Cassian had ignored him.
Of course it made sense that Cassian would be so overprotective of his motorcycle. He had never had many possessions. He hadn’t ever owned more than one pair of shoes until he was thirteen, when Shirina insisted on getting him snow boots and dress shoes. He’d replied, “But my sneakers still fit,” confused, and grew even more confused when Shirina wrapped him in a hug in response.
A motorcycle was something he’d never realistically imagined being able to afford. He’d look at magazines and at the seniors who’d pull up to high school in the Harvey-Davidsons that their fathers had bought them, thinking about what kind of motorcycle he would have wanted if he’d been born to rich parents who were still alive. Now that his wildest dream had become reality, he would guard it to the best of his ability.
He knew that Rhys and Azriel would treasure it as well. They knew that he loved the bike and would never do anything to intentionally harm it. Yet, they had both grown up with money. They didn’t understand the instinct Cassian had to protect the little that was his, because they had grown up with so much to claim as their own. To them, possessions were replaceable. Despite the wealth Cassian had gained, he could never shake off the memory of being a child curled around a backpack as he slept on the street instead of covering himself with it for warmth because he was afraid it would get stolen.
So when Cassian had casually offered to let Nesta try riding it, she was shocked to say the least.
“Are you sure?” she’d asked about a hundred times, but his answer never changed. When she’d admitted that she had never ridden a motorcycle before, he had just replied, “I’m honored to be your first,” with a wink. He then took Nesta, who was blushing and rolling her eyes, outside to teach her the basics.
“Alright,” he said with a clap, twenty minutes later.
Nesta got off the bike, assuming he wanted to return it to its position in the garage.
“Want to take it for a whirl?” he said instead.
She spun around to face him. “Really? But I… I wouldn’t want to damage your motorcycle. I know how important it is to you and, well, are you sure you want me to ride it?”
Cassian just shrugged, smiling. “No pressure, of course, if you’d rather not ride a motorcycle, but I’d love for you to try.” Something shifted in his eyes as he said, “I’d love to share it with you.”
Nesta blinked. She had grown up very differently from Cassian. She’d been born into a wealthy, upper-class family that later lost its wealth when her father got laid off and her mother fell ill. The medical bills piled up as her father searched in vain for work during a recession, and once her mother passed away, her father fell into the arms of alcoholic depression. Luckily, Nesta had enough training and experience by that point to gain a scholarship to her ballet school.
So while Nesta had experienced poverty, it was never in the way that Cassian had. She could only understand Cassian’s desperation to hold on to his possession on an intellectual level.
She didn’t know why he would trust her with something so precious.
“Of course I trust you,” Cassian added, as though he’d read her mind. He kissed her on the forehead, as if to say ‘you’re precious to me’. Nesta closed her eyes.
“Um,” she whispered, then cleared her throat to continue in a stronger voice, “I’d be honored.” Then, she glanced down at the dress she was wearing. “Maybe tomorrow?” she added.
Cassian laughed that hearty, deep laugh that always made her heart clench. “Can’t wait, sweetheart.”
So here she was, the next day, riding Cassian’s motorcycle. She’d been sure to dress more appropriately in her leather pants, jacket, and boots. She asked Cassian to confirm that her outfit was ok, just to make sure. He hummed approvingly as she spun around.
He then sat her down, and put on her elbow pads and knee pads on her. If it had been anyone else, she would have complained incessantly about being treated like a child; because it was Cassian, who touched her so tenderly as he adjusted the straps, she couldn’t feel anything except gratitude and joy.
“Ready?” He asked as she sat down on the bike. She gave him a thumbs up as he took a step back, gazing as though he was an artist who was looking at the tableau he’d painted. Dressed all in black, atop a black motorcycle, Nesta felt like she cut quite the figure. She felt powerful, as though she could do anything.
She turned on the engine and was about to get going when Cassian shouted, “Wait!” and ran over to her. She paused, looking up at Cassian as he ran over to her and lifted her face shield.
He kissed her, hard, and she melted into it. When he pulled away, she sat there for a moment, dazed. She brought a hand to her lips and continued to stare at Cassian. His parted lips were dark red, stained with her lipstick.
She took a deep breath, blinking a few times to regain her focus and dispel all the images of a naked Cassian from her mind. She pulled down her face shield, revved the motorcycle, and set off.
“But- how did you get Cass to agree to let you ride his bike?” Azriel asked, astounded.
Nesta shrugged, grinning. “What, like it’s hard?”
She zoomed off as the light turned green, leaving Rhys and Az in the dust with their mouths hanging wide open.
__________
Present day
“I’ll cherish that moment forever,” Nesta laughed.
Cassian grinned back at her, then pointed to a picture in the bottom row.
“You know what I’ll cherish forever? This one.”
Nesta looked at it and sighed. “Great, now mine seems shallow. Why do you have to be so kind and thoughtful?”
“I’ll try to stop.”
“That would be much appreciated.”
__________
Four years ago
Cheers filled the rink.
“GO DRAKON!” yelled the girl sitting right next to Nesta.
Emerie, who was sitting on her other side, held back a hissing Nesta by grabbing both her shoulders.
“That was ridiculous,” Nesta said through clenched teeth. “Why isn’t the ref saying anything? That was definitely a foul!”
“It was a beautiful goal,” Rhysand corrected.
Nesta’s fiery glare turned to him and he withered as she snapped, “Whose side are you on?”
It was Nesta’s first time being at Cassian’s game. Of course, she’d seen his games on TV before, but both of them had agreed that she should wait before attending a game and being in the presence of all his fans and the media. Now that they had been officially dating for over a year, they’d both felt it was time. Nesta’s best friends, Gwyn and Emerie, had decided to accompany her. They had both claimed that they just wanted to watch the game, but she knew that they really were there to provide her with moral support.
Sadly, Cassian’s team — the Velaris Ghost Leopards — was currently losing 4-2 to the Adriata Sirens. Nesta, who never followed ice hockey closely until meeting Cassian, had been yelling up a storm as passionately as any long-time die-hard Ghost Leopards fan. They were about halfway through the third period and any hope that the Ghost Leopards could win was slowly disappearing. Especially as Jurian Zbirak, the Sirens’ center, passed discreetly to Varian Ulwandle, the left winger who was famously good at scoring.
“I can’t watch,” Gwyn grimaced as Varian got past the Ghost Leopards’ defenceman, Andras Lupo. The crowd held their breath as Varian took the shot and-
“Saved!” Emerie yelled as Rhysand let out a whoop.
Thesan Vu, the Ghost Leopards’ goalie, had managed to save it beautifully.
Nesta gasped loudly as Kallias Neve, the Ghost Leopards’ center, took the puck and skated forward. Unfortunately, the other team’s defense was extremely strong, and caught sight of him almost immediately. Kallias cut sharply to the left, but the defenseman Eris Vanserra quickly shifted positions to block him.
“No, no, no, no, no,” Nesta chanted. Emerie was biting her nails anxiously next to her and Azriel was covering his mouth with his hands.
Kallias tried to deke Eris by feigning left and then cutting right, but Eris had seen through his tricks and was about to steal the puck when-
Nesta jumped out of her seat. “Look!”
Kallias had managed to trick Eris after all. He’d drop passed the puck to Cassian, who was now zooming towards the goal. By the time Eris and Devlon Lyons, the other Sirens defenseman, realized and headed for Cassian, it was already too late.
Nesta held her breath as Cassian got into position, took the shot and-
“He scored!” Nesta cheered at the top of her lungs.
Her throat was definitely going to be sore tomorrow but she didn’t even care.
She watched as Cassian lit up with glee and his teammates congratulated him. This was why she cheered so hard, why she cared so much about the sport. It wasn’t as though she’d magically become obsessed with ice hockey when she’d met Cassian. No, it was the joy that the sport brought him and the way he put his heart and soul into it — giving it his all at every game, every training, every play — that made her passionate about it. Cassian worked so incredibly hard at hockey and it was such a big part of his life. How could something so important to him not be important to her, too?
Cassian’s eyes locked on hers. Nesta froze.
He brought his left hand to his lips and blew her a kiss.
The crowd went wild as Cassian’s fans assumed he’d blown it to them. But Nesta could only sit down, dazed. She didn’t know why she felt so shocked that her boyfriend had blown her a kiss. They’d done far more than kiss, for gods’ sake. Perhaps it was because it had been in front of everyone, like Cassian was declaring his affection for her publicly and showing that he wasn’t ashamed of being with her. Or maybe it was the fact that he’d thought of her in the middle of a game, as though he never stopped thinking about her, even when he was singularly focused on ice hockey.
Emerie elbowed Nesta in the ribs and stage-whispered, “Your face is red, you know.”
“Shut up,” was Nesta’s dignified response.
With five minutes left in the period, the Sirens held control of the puck.
“Are they just wasting time, trying to run out the clock?” Nesta huffed. “That’s fucking ridiculous.”
Drakon Aliyev — the Sirens’ right winger — kept passing back and forth with the Jurian and Varian, barely moving forward.
“C’mon!” Rhysand jeered.
Suddenly, with thirty seconds left on the clock, Jurian sped forward. He weaved between Ghost Leopards’ players, dodging and deking them.
Twenty seconds.
Andras closed in on Jurian, but Jurian back passed to Drakon right before Andras caught up to him. Drakon skated past them, zigzagging to avoid the other players who attempted to catch up to him.
Ten seconds.
As Lucien — the Ghost Leopards’ other defenseman — moved in to body-check him, Drakon made eye contact with Varian, who had skated forward and was completely open. Drakon turned towards Varian, leaning his left shoulder down to pass to him.
Five seconds.
Lucien shifted to guard Drakon’s right side, blocking him from passing to Varian.
Four.
Drakon turned his hockey stick, which was on the left of the puck, to position it behind the puck, and aimed at the goal. Lucien scrambled to move back to his previous position in front of Drakon.
Three.
Drakon’s stick hit the puck, taking a strong shot. It flew through the middle of Lucien’s legs, headed straight towards the goal.
Two.
Thesan shifted his stick and crouched down, moving into position to block the puck.
One.
The puck landed on the ice a hair’s breadth in front of Thesan and slid through the small gap between his stick and his foot, straight into the goal.
Zero.
The crowd erupted into cheers and shouts.
Nesta was chief among them. “What? That’s crazy! The puck was not completely over the line before the buzzer! Why the fuck are they counting it?”
“It actually was,” Rhysand replied. “Wasn’t it an amazing buzzer beater, Az?”
Nesta was fuming. “What? Were you even watching the game? About a third of the puck hadn’t crossed the line! Don’t you agree, Az?”
Az looked between them with wide eyes and then wisely chose to say, “Hey, why don’t we try to go catch Cassian before he has to go to the changing room?”
Nesta was still grumbling as they walked up to where Cassian was talking to his teammates.
Azriel tapped him on the shoulder and he spun around, his disappointed frown turning into a friendly smile. Then, his eyes landed on Nesta and his expression softened.
Nesta peered up at him and sent him a small smile. But a second later, she resumed her muttering, hissing under her breath, “I can’t fucking believe the refs don’t give a shit about the Sirens’ blatant cheating.”
Rhysand, who was standing right next to Nesta, groaned loudly. Cassian raised an eyebrow at him. “This one,” Rhys began, tilting his head towards Nesta, “hasn’t stopped complaining about the Sirens and the refs.” He rolled his eyes, exasperated. “They didn’t fucking cheat, Nesta. They won. Just accept it and move on.” He turned to Cassian with a glance that said ‘urg, can you believe her?’
Unfortunately for Rhysand, he was not met with the sympathetic backup he’d anticipated from Cassian. Instead, Cassian’s face split into a huge grin that only widened when Nesta retorted, “Well, it’s true! I swear the puck wasn’t fully over the line when I heard the buzzer. The refs were definitely biased, because they called the Ghost Leopards’ offsides in period 1 but not any of the Sirens’ fouls!”
He let out a breathy laugh as wonder and joy lit up his eyes. He enveloped Nesta with his arms, burying his smile in her hair.
Time froze.
Their eyes closed like camera shutters as they stood still, taking in the moment and committing it to memory. They were both silent, too overwhelmed by the intensity of their emotions.
An eternity later, Cassian broke the silence, whispering “Thank you” into Nesta’s neck. He let her go, but not before pressing a kiss against her cheek.
__________
Present day
“You know, it meant the world to me to see that you defended me so fiercely.” Cassian’s tone was sincere but still light, as one could only be with those whom they’d been vulnerable with many times before. “To know that you cared so much about me… well. It’s not like no one cared about me before, you know, obviously I had Rhys and Az and stuff, but I still struggled with really believing that people could care about me — that I could matter to people. That moment… Of course it didn’t completely ‘fix’ me,” Cassian made air quotes with his fingers, “but I think that’s when it really clicked and I realized that you felt the same way about me that I felt about you — that I mattered to you, too.”
Nesta swallowed, realizing that she was choking up, which was extremely uncharacteristic of her. The closest she usually got to crying was when she read about fictional characters, and even then she almost never felt tears welling up as they were now.
“I love you,” Nesta answered quietly. It was the truth, plain and simple. “You matter to me, and you always have.”
“I love you too,” Cassian answered. His hand reached out to cover hers and gave it a gentle squeeze.
A moment later, he pointed to another polaroid in the bottom row.
“This one was next, right?”
“Yeah,” Nesta said, her eyes twinkling as she reminisced. “Those views were so worth it, but damn, I don’t think I’ve ever been as tired and sore.”
Cassian smirked. “Oh really? Not even-”
“Nope,” Nesta interrupted with a smirk of her own.
Cassian blinked, as though her reply had genuinely shocked him. Once he recovered, he answered, “Well, we’ll have to change that, won’t we?”
He winked.
Nesta rolled her eyes, but brought a hand to cheek to cover what she assumed was her rather obvious blush.
__________
Four years ago
“Are you sure you don’t need to drink more water?” Cassian asked again.
“Yes, Cassian, I’m just as sure as I was when you asked me two seconds ago,” Nesta replied, a small smile on her lips despite her slight irritation at his repetitive questioning. Nesta would never in a million years admit that she liked Cassian’s coddling, but in truth she did enjoy knowing how much he cared.
They’d decided to get away from the city for a week to go on the backpacking trip they’d been talking about for months now. Miraculously, Cassian’s off-season had aligned perfectly with Nesta’s and they intended to make full use of it.
Initially, they had considered inviting some of their friends and family to join them on a hike to a different location, but after Nesta’s argument with Rhysand over reproductive freedoms dissolved into an intense shouting match with personal attacks, Cassian had decided to limit the trip to just the two of them. He’d hoped to give them some space from each other to help them cool off.
There was also an additional reason he had decided not to invite anyone else — most notably Rhysand — that he hadn’t told Nesta. The day after the row, Cassian had gone to see Rhysand, hoping to help clear the air. Instead of being regretful and guilty, Rhysand had been stubborn, claiming that Nesta was the only one who needed to apologize. He called Nesta a “vicious bitch”, saying that he didn’t know why Cassian would want to be with such a “fucked up person who clearly had way too many issues” and “only wanted Cassian for the money and fame”. When he laughed, “The sex must be really good for you to put up with her,” spitting out the last word as though Nesta was the scum of the Earth who wasn’t even worthy of being named by Rhysand, Cassian had exploded.
He’d completely lost it, snarling and hurling insults at Rhys. He’d yelled that Rhys was clearly so insecure that he couldn’t accept when he was wrong and had to tear others down to try to fix his fragile ego.
“Maybe you want to pretend you’re perfect because you don’t know how to love people, flaws and all,” Cassian had hissed. “So yeah, Nesta might have some ‘issues’ but so do I. And guess what? That’s fine. We still care about each other, for real. Unlike you, we don’t feel the need to lie about who we are. At least our relationship is real and is based on honesty and truth.”
It had been a low blow, to allude to his previous relationships. Rhys had dated Amarantha, a wealthy actress and politician’s daughter, at his parents’ request back when Rhys’ dad, Hadrian, was still running the conglomerate called Night Court Corporations which was later passed down to Rhys. This had been both a PR stunt, which showed rivals just how strong and influential their family was and distracted the media from Ayla’s underage drunk driving, and a way to gain Amarantha’s father’s support in giving Night Court Corporations a tax break. Their relationship had been faker than Amarantha’s tan.
His only real relationship before Feyre had been with Carmella, a girl who worked at a coffee shop he used to frequent, although calling it ‘real’ was a stretch, as Rhysand had lied to her about his family and his past. They had dated for almost a year, and Az and Cassian had met the poor girl numerous times, but Rhysand had insisted that he would keep being ‘Reese, son of an office worker’ when he was with her in order to avoid ‘getting used’.
So yes, the comment had been mean and Cassian had felt slightly guilty about it, despite it being true.
But then, Rhys had retorted, “Real? Please, Cassian, I can’t believe that you can’t see through her! She doesn’t ‘care about you’ or whatever, she only cares about the money, just like everybody else like her!”
Cassian’s eyes had narrowed and he’d slowly bit out, “Like her? What do you mean by that?”
His eyes had flashed with rage and pain, because he’d known exactly what Rhysand meant.
His suspicions were confirmed when Rhys’ expression had twitched. He’d meant people who weren’t as famous, as well-to-do, as wealthy. People who didn’t have a trust fund or a summer house or extra cars. People who couldn’t take vacations or make big purchases without saving up first. People who couldn’t say ‘money isn’t a problem’. People like Nesta who had to have side jobs in addition to their main one just to be able to afford rent in a city like Velaris. And people like Cassian, for whom even food and housing and safety had never been a guarantee, let alone new clothing or vacations.
Rhysand had just implied that Cassian had never cared about Rhysand or Shirina or Ayla or Hadrian. That Cassian had only been with them for the money and that all the love he had for them was fake.
Rhysand stayed silent.
Cassian repeated, “What do you mean, Rhys?”
“Look, I didn’t mean to offend you. It wasn’t about- I’m just trying to help you! She doesn’t actually care.” At Cassian’s murderous glare, he amended, “And even if she does, she doesn’t deserve you! I’m just trying to rescue you, man.”
“Rescue me?” Cassian laughed, coldly. “I’m not some semi-homeless kid anymore. I don’t need a fucking hero to save me. Maybe you want to think I’m some helpless victim because you can’t stand the fact that I’m finally happy and I don’t need you anymore. How are you going to feed your savior complex now?”
Rhysand scoffed, glaring down at him as though Cassian were a peasant and he were a god. It only served to fuel the cold flames of Cassian’s anger.
“Or maybe you don’t like that I’m succeeding,” Cassian said, his voice quiet and dangerous. “You don’t like that I’m rich and famous and I did it all on my own. I worked hard and got here and I’m only gonna keep rising. Who are you gonna look down at now to remind yourself just what a special little boy you are?”
Rhysand rolled his eyes. “Rich? Please, Cassian, you’re doing okay, but you could never be as rich as me. And all on your own? Need I remind you that I gave you a house and food and clothes? I paid for your hockey gear and for chauffeurs to drive you to games. You worked hard, sure, but so did I. We’re the same, so stop trying to act like you’re any better than me.”
“Aww, did I hurt your fragile little ego?” Cassian pouted mockingly. “You know that you didn’t do any of that, right? Shirina and Hadrian paid for all those things. And yes, they helped me, but at least I got my job because of skill and hard work. You got yours because you were born a boy. We’re not the same and we’ll never be.”
“You’re right,” Rhysand replied coolly. “We’re not the same. I don��t know why I ever bothered to pretend otherwise.”
Cassian had stormed out, tossing a “By the way, it’s called a taxi, not a chauffeur!” over his shoulder as he exited.
Admittedly, it had not been his best comeback.
After that incident, Cassian had decided not to speak to Rhys for a while, let alone invite him on any trips.
As they hiked up the hilly landscape, Cassian was grateful he’d decided to spend this time alone with Nesta instead. Somehow, the whole trip felt so much more meaningful with her by his side, like this was a glimpse at the life they were building together.
“Gods, my legs are definitely going to hurt after today,” Nesta mumbled as they hiked up an especially steep section.
“Are you okay? Do you want to take a break- or should I carry you?” Cassian hurriedly replied.
Nesta just laughed, staring pointedly at his backpack. “Literally how?”
Cassian gestured to his front. “You doubt my strength?”
“Yes,” Nesta teased, sticking her tongue out at him before speed walking ahead.
“Wait up!”
Each night, they shared a tent. Despite starting out in sleeping bags on separate mattress pads, they always ended up cuddling together, supposedly for warmth. A couple nights in, Nesta figured out how to zip their sleeping bags together to create a single larger sleeping bag, whispering “Oh no, there’s only one bed!” as she did so.
Every morning, Cassian would wake Nesta up with a kiss to her cheek. She’d always scrunch her face and groggily mutter, “No, don’t do that, I’m disgusting.”
“You could never be disgusting, sweetheart,” Cassian would reply, prompting Nesta to open her eyes only to roll them at him.
When they finally arrived at Windhaven Overlook, their destination, they spent a day admiring the views and having a small picnic.
“Thanks for bringing me here,” Nesta said, resting her head on Cassian’s shoulder. “It means a lot that you’d want to share this with me.”
Cassian kissed her forehead in response.
He had been to this spot only twice before, but it was still one of the most important locations for him.
The first time, Enalius had brought him here. Enalius was a man close to Cassian’s heart. They’d first met when Enalius approached Cassian, whose face was glued to a window, watching an ice hockey team practice. Cassian had snuck into the skating rink for warmth and to use the vending machines and the water fountains, but had let his guard down, enthralled by the skaters.
“Are you spying on them?” were the first words out of Enalius’ mouth.
“What? NO!” Cassian had tried to run, but Enalius clasped his shoulder with a strong arm.
“Really? What team do you play for?”
“I don’t play hockey!”
At that, Enalius had frowned. “Really? That’s a shame. I think you might be good at it. Why don’t you ask your parents to sign you up for a class sometime?”
Cassian’s eyes had dropped to the floor. “No, that’s okay.”
“C’mon, now,” Enalius had tried again. “I’m sure you could be better than those boys in no time.”
“I’ve never even skated before.”
Enalius raised an eyebrow as Cassian furiously backtracked, realizing that he’d basically admitted he’d snuck in.
“Uh, I mean, I’ve never skated in, uh, hockey rinks with, uh-”
Enalius smiled. “Don’t worry, kid.” He looked Cassian up and down once more and sighed, “Are you sure you don’t want to give it a try? You’ll never know what it’s like until you give it a go.”
Cassian shrugged.
“Well, if you ever think you want to, just tell the lady at the counter over there that Enalius Ramiel told you to sign up for a lesson with him, okay? And get your parents to sign all the release forms and stuff.”
“Oh, they, uh, can’t do that.”
Enalius cocked his head. “Should I talk to them? Don’t worry, lessons aren’t actually that expensive, and I’ll give you a little discount.”
“No, um, you can’t talk to them,” Cassian mumbled uncomfortably.
Enalius took a step back. “Sorry kid, didn’t mean to pressure you. Lemme know if you ever want me to talk to your parents or anything.”
As Enalius started to turn around, Cassian was suddenly caught by a panic and blurted, “You can’t talk to them ’cause they’re dead.”
Enalius froze.
“Oh,” he said after a moment. “I see.”
He studied Cassian’s face for a moment and then grabbed his hand, power-walking towards the check-in counter. They cut to the front of a long line of people as Enalius flashed a badge.
“Hey, Val, can we book rink 3 for a private lesson?” Enalius asked the lady at the counter with a grin.
“Sure, when do you want to schedule it for?”
“Now.”
Val raised her eyebrows. “Now? Are you joking?”
Enalius shook his head.
Val just sighed. “Fine, but I don’t think the ice has been refreshed in a while. Also, it’s booked after 5:30, so you’ve got a little less than an hour.”
“Thanks, Val, you’re the best.” Then, he turned to Cassian. “What size are your feet?”
“Um… 6?” Cassian guessed, rounding up a size from his current too-small sneakers.
“A pair of size 6 hockey skate rentals, too,” Enalius added. “Put it all on my tab.”
Then, he leaned in to whisper something Cassian couldn’t hear, which made Val sigh, “Oh, Ali, I hope you know what you’re doing.”
The next hour had changed Cassian's life. He’d started out wobbling, barely staying vertical and walking instead of skating on the ice. By the end, he was gliding effortlessly, skating around and in between the cones Enalius set up. He fell in love with ice skating.
So Cassian returned, day after day, getting free private lessons from Enalius, and he soon became enamored by ice hockey, too.
Enalius became Cassian’s mentor, not only teaching him hockey but also buying Cassian snacks or dinner and making sure he got back safely. It was Enalius who later introduced Shirina, his childhood friend, to Cassian, further changing his life.
It wasn’t until much later that Cassian learned what a famous and successful hockey player Enalius was. Enalius remained Cassian’s coach right until he joined the NHL himself.
There were few people who were as important to Cassian as Enalius. And that was why this place that Enalius had brought him to years ago was so special to Cassian.
Shirina, Hadrian, Rhysand, and Ayla had decided to go abroad and travel alongside some cousins during fall break. Enalius had overheard Shirina hesitating about leaving Cassian home alone for the week and had offered to take him on a trip of their own. Cassian, who had never been on a trip as far as he was aware of, was ecstatic and it did not disappoint. It became one of Cassian’s best memories.
The second time he came to this spot was after Shirina’s death. Rhysand and Ayla had been inconsolable, each grieving in their own way: Rhysand never spent a moment alone, as though he could bury his feelings in the high of socializing and parties, while Ayla barely spoke or even left her room. Hadrian was trying his best to keep it together, but was clearly in way over his head — managing the children and their emotions had always been Shirina’s department, not his. Luckily, their extended family had flown into town to help them all. Friends and acquaintances had reached out, trying to find ways to support them through all the grief.
Cassian, who couldn’t really be classified as a friend or family to Shirina, had been overlooked. It wasn’t like he expected anything different, but watching everyone comforting each other and ignoring him hurt. It was as though he had no right to grieve — to be this hurt by her death — and maybe he didn’t, but she had been the closest thing he’d had to a parent since he’d been 5 years old. He’d loved her, too. No, he wasn’t her child, but he was something to her, even if it couldn’t be labeled so easily.
Now she was gone and whatever they had been was erased. It didn’t matter that he’d used his first paycheck to buy her a birthday present, or that she had attended all his home NHL games, or that they’d often go on walks together. It didn’t matter that she always knew when he needed a hug or that she’d taught him how to cook.
Cassian had decided to hike to Windhaven Overpass to get out of his own head.
The journey had helped him to process his emotions. The sunsets and the plant life around him had seemed far more beautiful that time, reminding him of how much Shirina had loved nature. At night, the stars seemed brighter than normal, and he recalled Shirina explaining to him that in her culture, stars were considered to be ancestral and guardian spirits looking down at you and guiding you.
Cassian felt like Shirina had been there, watching him from the sky and reaching out with a comforting hand as he struggled. That trip, he had gotten angry and laughed joylessly and sobbed. He’d felt empty and about to explode at the same time. He had gotten to be something different from the strong, smiling version of himself that he usually presented to the public. In the end, the trip had helped him find some sort of closure and peace with Shirina’s death.
Now, Cassian had brought Nesta here.
He had told her about his prior trips with Windhaven and what the location meant to him, but actually bringing her here was a sign that Cassian was willing to be vulnerable with her.
He had always feared people would leave him and that he was replaceable, and worried about tainting such a special place with memories of someone who would later leave his life.
And yet, Cassian had brought her here.
“This spot is important to me, Nes, and so are you,” Cassian said. “Thank you for coming. It’s my honor to be here, with you.”
He didn’t say: ‘I’m not worried about bringing you here because what we have is different — it’s meant to last.’
He didn’t say: ‘You’re the only person I’ve ever cared about enough to let myself be vulnerable like this with — you could destroy me, but I’m willing to take that chance.’
He didn’t say: ‘I love you.’
And yet, that was what they both heard.
__________
Present day
“I knew you were in love with me the second you invited me on that trip,” Nesta smirked.
“Sweetheart, I was gone for you way before then,” Cassian laughed.
“That’s true,” she grinned. “You had an embarrassingly massive crush on me for the longest time. And you must’ve loved me a whole lot to let me get away with making Rhys grovel like that.”
“First of all, get your facts straight: I still have an embarrassingly massive crush on you,” he replied. “And secondly, well, Rhys deserved it and also it was really entertaining to watch.”
The day after they’d gotten back, Rhysand had sent Cassian and Nesta a long message, asking them to meet up so that he could apologize in person. Nesta decided that they should talk to Rhys separately.
Cassian went first. Rhys apologized profusely for all the names he’d called Nesta, for all the things he’d implied about Cassian, and for all the insults. Cassian in turn apologized for his part, and the two of them had a chat in which Rhys admitted that he’d acted like an entitled prick and that he was genuinely sorry. They made up and quickly forgave each other, like the pseudo-brothers they were.
Nesta and Rhysand were an altogether different story. Rhysand apologized to her as well, but she answered that while she accepted his apology, she could not forgive him so easily.
She understood that he didn’t like her, and that was his right, but she also felt that he couldn’t try to make claims about her character when he barely knew her. She told him that she was perfectly fine with having a tepid relationship with him where they would only speak when strictly necessary or that they could try to get to know each other better. Rhysand went with the second option. From there, they went on to have many long discussions. Once they’d gotten a bit closer, Nesta returned to their original point of contention: reproductive freedoms. She made Rhys listen to podcasts and read articles and watch videos about what reproductive freedom really was and why it was so important. “You don’t have to change your opinion,” she’d said, over and over. “You just need to be informed before you try to make claims about what others should or shouldn’t do with their bodies and their lives.”
It was only months later that Nesta finally stopped putting him through the wringer and told him that she’d forgiven him.
“I’m so glad you enjoyed it, Cass. It definitely was all for your entertainment, no other reason at all for us to argue,” Nesta replied dryly.
Her eyes drifted to the polaroid in the bottom right corner. “Now that,” she pointed, “that was entertainment. What a show!” She licked her lips and batted her eyelashes exaggeratedly.
“It was completely staged, of course,” Cassian joked. “The whole thing was just for your pleasure.”
Nesta raised an eyebrow. “My ‘pleasure’?”
“My, my, what a dirty mind you have, Nesta!” Cassian fake-gasped. “A proper gentleman would never imply something so improper to a lady like yourself.”
“A proper gentleman? Where?” she retorted without missing a beat.
He clutched his chest. “You wound me, m’lady.” He shook his head. “And to think, I was your knight in shining armor that day…”
“More like knight in very little armor.”
__________
Three years ago
Plunk.
They watched, immobilized by shock, as the necklace drifted below the water’s surface.
It fell slowly, until it became only a vague shadow in the water.
“Nesta?” “Nesta, are you ok?”
Voices faded in and out of Nesta’s awareness. She tried to force herself to smile, to nod that she was completely, totally fine. Unfortunately, she seemed to have lost the ability to control her body.
It was so, so stupid. She’d been having such a wonderful day. And now, she’d ruined it.
Cassian and Azriel had prepared a group trip to Ravennia Park, complete with a lovely picnic lunch in the field of blooming daffodils. Cassian had even made sure to include all her favorite foods in the lunch. Afterward, they walked around the park, stopping occasionally to take pictures or listen to birds.
They had stopped on this small bridge so that Feyre could take pictures of the glistening lake and the paddling of ducks that had just entered the water. Nesta had leaned over the railing, chatting with Cassian as she watched the colorful koi fish swim.
Her necklace had snapped suddenly, tumbling into the water before anyone could react.
Her silver necklace, which her father had given her for her eighth birthday, disappeared under the surface of the lake. Gone, just like her middle school best friend, Clare Beddor, who had drowned herself in a pool. Gone, just like her father.
Until her mother got sick, Nesta had had an amazing relationship with her father. She would sit next to him, listening intently as he explained how trading and shipbuilding worked. She was always the one to run and open the door when he came home from work, enveloping him in a hug. She loved it when he read her bedtime stories and watched her dance around the living room.
Then, everything changed. Her illusion that he could do no wrong broke when her mother told her that the reason she wasn’t getting better from her illness was that they couldn’t afford good doctors and medicine since her father had lost his job. After that, Nesta’s resentment only grew as the misfortunes piled up. Her mother died and they couldn’t afford the funeral that she’d wanted. Her sisters had to change schools. They moved into a smaller house, with a bedroom that all three sisters shared. They struggled to put food on the table.
When her father decided to sell art instead of looking for another job, saying he couldn’t rely on others to give him work, Nesta fumed. How could he sit there, carving wood and drinking beer, while Feyre worked overtime at her job in addition to school and she and Elain did all the cooking and cleaning? Nesta had vowed to leave as soon as she could, and, it turned out, that ballet allowed her to leave the nest sooner than expected.
Still, she’d felt guilty leaving her sisters to fend for themselves in that house, and then felt even angrier at her father for not taking care of them and putting Nesta in a position where she felt guilty for following her dreams.
Suffice to say, Nesta had a difficult relationship with him — one that was made all the more complex when he died of a sudden heart attack.
It had taken Nesta a long time to process and make peace with his death.
She’d decided to wear the necklace her father had given her today, in honor of his birthday. Once upon a time, she had worn this necklace all the time, showing off the token of her father’s affection. By putting it back on, she felt like she was healing a teenage Nesta, who had violently taken off her necklace at her mother’s funeral and shoved it into the drawer of her bedside table.
And now, it was lost forever.
“Nesta?”
Cassian’s voice cut through her haze and she lifted her eyes to see his worried expression. He brought a finger to her cheek, caressing it softly. It grounded her, bringing her back to the present, but she didn’t react — couldn’t react — more than just blinking at him dazedly.
Cassian took a deep breath. He grabbed the back of his t-shirt and removed it in one smooth motion, his pants quickly following suit. Before Nesta could process what was happening, he climbed over the railing and plunged into the lake.
Nesta could only cling to the railing, shocked silent for a new reason as she waited, praying to all the gods she barely believed in that his head would emerge from the water.
She tried to dispel all the fears that swam around in her mind, taunting her about the dangers of the lake. The water plants that could ensnare even experienced swimmers’ feet and drown them, the animals that could bite and eat him, the sharp rocks that could injure him, the current that could pull him under — the possibilities were endless.
Cassian’s head emerged from the water and she felt her heart unclench, just for a second, until he disappeared once more.
This jerked Nesta out of her stupor.
“Cassian,” she called out. “Cass! What the fuck are you doing? Get back here! ” Her voice grew increasingly panicked as there was no response.
“It’s dangerous, are you insane? Cassian? Cassian!”
Her shouts only stopped when Cassian surfaced. His broad shoulders and defined abs glistened in the sunlight as drops of water rolled down his chest. The bun his hair had been in had come upon, and now his dark, wavy-curly mane was streaming down his back. His brown skin was slick with water and drops clung to his long eyelashes. She couldn’t stop herself from noticing that he looked exactly how she’d imagined a merman to be.
Her lips parted as he stepped out of the water. She forced her eyes away from his soaking wet underwear that clung to his body, defining every inch of it. Her gaze fixed on his chest instead. She knew she should be focusing on Cassian’s face or the necklace in his hand but he was so fucking distracting. Soaked Cassian was criminally delectable.
“Nesta?”
Cassian’s voice was worried, probably since Nesta still wasn’t speaking.
“Nes,” he whispered, gently tilting her head upwards with a finger under her chin.
Their eyes met. Cassian’s concern was wiped off his face and was instantly replaced by a smirk.
“Lost your tongue, sweetheart?” he teased.
Though she had indeed lost the ability to speak, she would not give him the satisfaction of admitting it. No, she would play his game and beat him at it.
She licked her lips slowly. She tilted her head back to expose the column of her throat while she swallowed sharply, knowing how it drove him crazy. Cassian made a low noise in the back of his throat, as though he was trying and failing to suppress a groan. Then, he put his arms on her shoulders, turning her around.
“Lift up your hair,” he whispered into her ear, sending shivers across her body.
She did as he requested. He put the necklace back on her neck, patiently working the tiny clasp. His fingers brushed her neck, and even the cold silver of the necklace couldn’t cool the heat that spread within her. When the necklace was securely fastened, she turned around, wrapping her arms around his neck.
She took a moment to look deep within his eyes.
She would have to yell at him later for risking his life for a piece of jewelry, but nonetheless she appreciated what he had done. He was one of the only people who knew that she had a fear of deep water due to its association with Clare, and was also the only person who knew what putting this necklace back on meant for her. Yes, it was only a necklace, but he had also saved her from reopening the wounds of her complex relationship with her father and her past self.
So she kissed him, knowing he would understand every conflicting thought and emotion that she pressed against his lips. And when his hand came up to support her neck, she knew that he was answering ‘I’m here for you, always.’
__________
Present day
“I knew you were objectifying me,” Cassian pouted mockingly.
Nesta nodded. “Oh, for sure. You’re nothing but a sexy hunk to me.”
She leaned closer to him. “That’s why I said I love you first.” She tapped the picture in the top left corner.
Cassian rolled his eyes. “How long are you going to hold that over my head?”
Nesta hummed as though she were seriously contemplating the issue. “How about… forever?”
Cassian’s eyes sparkled and his mouth twisted around, as though he were trying to hold back a grin.
“Urg, fine,” he said. His attempt to appear annoyed failed completely as he sounded more amused than anything else. “As long as you know I loved you first.”
It was Nesta’s turn to roll her eyes in mock annoyance, despite knowing that he was likely correct. “Sure, keep telling yourself that.”
__________
Three years ago
It was the final match of the Alfheim Ice Hockey Championships. If the Velaris Ghost Leopards managed to beat the Hybern Hydras, they would win the Fionn Cup for the first time in history.
The game was extremely close, with both teams tied at 2-2, though not for lack of trying. The Hydras were playing atrociously dirty by anyone’s standards. They had already received numerous green and yellow cards, but it didn’t seem to deter them from continuing to foul the Ghost Leopards.
Nesta cheered as Andras blocked Keir Hewn’s attack. Lucien swept in, stealing the puck from Keir, and passed it across the ice to Cassian. Cassian bluffed and wove his way through the Hydras’ defensemen.
“C’mon, Cass, c’mon,” she chanted, her hands clasped together.
Beron Falls raced to block Cassian, but Cassian passed the puck to Kallias just in time. Kallias dribbled the puck expertly.
“Please, Kallias, make this shot,” Rhys implored from the seat behind Nesta’s.
Kallias skated towards the goals, and lifted his stick to shoot.
Then, the ice erupted in shouts, the umpire blowing the whistle continuously.
“What just happened?” Gwyn asked but no one had an answer to give her. Nesta just sighed, dropping her face into her hands until she felt Elain tugging at her shoulder. Her eyes followed Elain’s pointed finger to see the jumbotron showing a replay. Andrew Amaranth, the Hydras’ left winger, had come up to Kallias from behind. He grabbed his stick and kicked the back of his calf with the blade of his skates, causing Kallias to fall.
“What the fuck is wrong with him?” Nesta shouted.
“He’s actually unhinged,” Azriel agreed.
The umpire called for a yellow and a ten-minute time out.
“It should be a red card,” Gwyn hissed and Nesta loudly agreed.
The game continued in such a fashion, with the Hydras playing as dirty as possible without getting red cards.
The game was still tied with five minutes remaining in the third period.
“We can’t go into overtime,” Azriel muttered to himself, “All our players are getting tired and they’re bound to actually get injured from these fouls.”
“Better overtime than a loss,” Rhys replied.
Nesta looked down at her hands. Her nails had been bitten down to the nub over the course of this game.
Winning the Fionn Cup was a lifelong dream of Cassian’s. He had worked hard for this. He’d given his life to this sport for years, training every day for hours on end, no matter how tired he was. He studied strategy, honed his body, and worked with his team to figure out how to play into everyone’s individual strengths.
But it was more than that.
In many ways, the sport had also saved Cassian. It had given him direction and a sense of purpose at a time when he’d felt lost. It had given him a team, when he’d only ever felt alone. It had provided him an alternative to the path he’d thought he was destined for — a path that led to nothing but more despair, where he would just get by, numbly passing through every day and surviving by the skin of his teeth. Ice hockey had opened up a whole new world for him and allowed him to dream of a different future for himself. It had given him hope, showing him a way out of the cycle of sadness that he’d imagined he would be trapped in forever.
The world had once branded him as useless, as broken, as less than nothing. As he was tossed around from foster home to foster home, sleeping on the street among the trash, the word worthless sank deeper and deeper into his skin.
Ice hockey was the hand that had reached out and pulled him to his feet, getting him off the ground, out of the shadows and the litter and the endless despair. It had dusted him off and pulled him into the light, where he could get warm and grow and sparkle as he was meant to.
Now, Nesta wanted the world to acknowledge that Cassian was a champion. She wanted the world to know they’d been wrong to ever dismiss him as anything less than magnificent. She wanted him to win the Fionn Cup and stand proudly in the spotlight, knowing the world now looked up to him. More than anything, she wanted him to know that he was worthy, that he was precious, that he was important.
“Oh, fuck, yes!” Azriel shouted. Nesta would have raised an eyebrow at him — the ever-brooding, silent and mysterious Azriel — shouting so enthusiastically, if she hadn’t been so caught up in the game.
Kallias had stolen the puck from Dagdan Maeve and was racing towards the goal. Just as he crossed the center line, the Hydra’s defensemen, Beron and Nolan, closed in on him. Nesta watched as Kallias attempted to fake them out, then made a sharp turn to get away from them, all to no avail. Beron finally caught up to him and moved to steal the puck. With Nolan guarding Kallias’ other side, there was nowhere for him to move, no space for him to pass.
“Oh, I can’t watch,” Rhys hissed, wincing.
Nesta pressed her lips together, hoping for a miracle, when suddenly the puck disappeared. Kallias had somehow managed to pass it through the narrow gap between Beron and Nolan’s sticks and had hit the puck with such strength that neither of them could move to stop it in time. Cassian received the pass and skated towards the goal. Beron, Nolan, and even some of the forwards moved to stop him, but Nesta knew they wouldn’t make it in time. Not when Cassian was speeding forward, moving like the wind as he skated across the ice.
Nesta leaned forward in her seat as a feeling swelled up inside her. It was a mix of anticipation, nervousness, hope, fear, pride, and something else — something that made her feel like her heart was in her throat and made her pray that Cassian would score but know she would be there by his side no matter what happened. She had been feeling it for so long now, but had never voiced it — never put words to the feeling for fear that it would shatter the precious thing they’d built. But now Nesta knew it wasn’t something that could be so easily destroyed. No, it didn’t matter if Cassian won or lost, or even got injured. It didn’t matter if Cassian got traded to a team in a different city or Nesta had to switch ballet companies. No matter what, through the ups and the downs, they would be there for each other, helping to shoulder the emotional load.
As Cassian's hockey stick hit the puck, Nesta wondered why she had been waiting so long when it was so clear what this feeling was. If she was being honest, she’d known it when Cassian dove into the water for her necklace, had known it when he’d brought her to Windhaven, had known it even the first time she’d sat in these seats, cheering Cassian on as he played.
Cassian’s love was loud. It was in the romantic dates he planned, the surprises and gifts and hugs he showered her with, the weekends when he could sleep in but woke up anyway to make her pancakes. No, he hadn’t said the words either, but his protective arm around her during dinner with his friends and the vulnerable look in his eyes as he prepared a fusion meal that combined their cultural cuisines said all that was needed.
Nesta’s love was quiet. It was in the fridge restocked with Cassian’s favorite foods, the ways she tended to his injuries after a match, and carefully planned meaningful gifts for his birthday. No, she hadn’t said the words, but she knew that he knew how she felt.
But now, as the puck flew towards the goal, Nesta wanted to love just as boldly as Cassian. She wanted to show the world how lucky she was to be with him, but more importantly, she wanted Cassian to feel how much she cared about him. She wanted him to know that she was proud to be his. For him, she’d shout their love from the rooftops. She’d give him the whole universe if she could, because the world had been so unkind to him and yet he’d still managed to become the most incredible person in it. She could only offer him her heart, however, and hope that he would find it worthy of keeping.
The puck grazed the goalie’s glove and Nesta held her breath. The goalie stretched out his fingers to grab it but it flew past him.
“GOAL!”
The entire stadium erupted into screams. Cheers of pure joy came from the Ghost Leopards’ side, louder than ever before. Nesta watched as Gwyn, Azriel, Elain, and Rhys jumped up and hugged each other.
Nesta could only stand up in silence, too consumed with her feelings to utter a single sound. For what sound could encapsulate this all-encompassing joy and pride? She looked down at the rink. Cassian’s teammates were all piled up around him in a massive group hug. And in the middle of it all, Cassian was there, beaming. His eyes lifted and met hers. She was grinning, wider than ever before in her life, and lifted her hands to make a heart.
Cassian’s eyes turned huge. He took a deep breath.
Perhaps he would have responded in kind, but he was obstructed from Nesta’s view as another teammate jumped to hug him and then the coach yelled at them that the game was restarting. Cassian shot Nesta one last, loaded glance before skating back to his position.
It was all a blur after that. The last few minutes of the match passed without any change. Both teams’ offenses and defenses were equally matched, and the puck passed between them with no chances to score. When the buzzer rang out, everyone sprung to their feet.
Nesta cheered, not giving a shit that her voice would be hoarse the next day with how loudly she was screaming. Azriel was jumping up and down like a child — she’d never seen him so overtly joyous. Rhys had tears of joy pouring down his cheeks. Gwyn and Elain were hugging.
After the awards ceremony, all the interviews, and a rowdy celebration with the team, Cassian finally joined them.
The second they caught sight of him, they rushed towards him. All five of them reached him at the same time and jumped on him, crushing him as they hugged him and showered him with compliments and congratulations.
Cassian laughed boisterously.
“I can’t believe it! I’m friends with a Fionn Cup Champion,” Gwyn gushed.
“Oh, so now we’re friends?” Cassian teased.
Gwyn answered with a playful shove that pushed Cassian back toward Azriel. Az wrapped his arms around Cassian, trapping him.
He pressed a kiss to the side of Cassian’s head as the latter squirmed.
“Sorry Nes, I’m keeping him,” Azriel joked, tightening his grip as Cassian tried to shake him off.
“Take him,” Nesta grinned. “He snores.”
“I do not!”
Cassian’s protest went ignored.
“Hmm,” Azriel pretended to muse. “But then I could have a real-life Fionn Cup Champion in my room. The price of the noise-canceling headphones will be worth it.”
Nesta shrugged. “I’d be surprised if he fit through your door, now that his ego is going to get even bigger.”
“True, true. I’d hate for his massive head to break my roof.”
“Hello? I thought you’re supposed to be nice to Fionn Cup winners,” Cassian pouted.
Gwyn laughed. “Nice? Cassian, it’s like you don’t even know us.”
“I can be nice,” Rhys protested.
Everyone proceeded to burst out laughing.
“Okay, fine,” he acquiesced. “I’m a demon just like the rest of you.”
“That’s right,” Nesta grinned. “Accept your true nature and join our pit of darkness.”
Gwyn laughed evilly, “Mwahahaha!”
Nesta lifted her left hand, which Gwyn promptly high-fived.
“Okay, anyway,” Elain interrupted, “Cassian, are you hungry? You must be tired after that amazing game.”
“Wow, thank you for being so considerate, Elain,” he said, extending her name pointedly. “I am actually pretty hungry and tired and sore after the game.”
He turned his head to glare at Azriel, who was still holding him.
Az merely rolled his eyes. “Aw, poor baby. Does the little Fionn Cup Champion have a boo-boo?”
“Maybe he needs Nesta to kiss them better,” Gwyn suggested, not bothering to hide her smirk.
“Are you gonna tend to his wounds?” Rhysand asked. “Nurse him to health?”
“I guess that depends on what it is that he’s hungry for,” Nesta replied with a wink.
They all burst out laughing a second later.
“Wow, you’re all so immature,” Cassian sniffed. “Elain is the only person fit for polite company.”
Rhysand glanced around. “What polite company?”
“Oh, no,” Azriel exclaimed. “We’re blaspheming! Now that Cassian’s won the Cup, we have to refer to him by his proper title: His Highness Sir Cassian of Illyrian.”
“I’m so sorry, my Lord,” Nesta added with a curtsey. “Please, forgive our disrespect.”
“Regency romance,” Gwyn fake-coughed into her elbow.
“Of course, m’lady,” Cassian winked, “you’re forgiven. Although you may have to be punished for your transgressions.”
Azriel pretended to gag. “Please, save the foreplay for the bedroom.”
“My poor, innocent ears,” Rhysand groaned. “I’ll never recover.”
Nesta turned to him. “Right, because you’ve never made out with my baby sister in public.” Then, she smirked. “Although, maybe you are innocent if that was too much for you. I mean, how vanilla are you?”
“Cassian,” Elain interrupted. “Do you want to go eat dinner at a restaurant or something?”
“That sounds amazing! How about the Greek place on 10th Avenue?” Cassian replied.
“Oh fine,” Rhys rolled his eyes playfully, “We’ll get food.”
“I am actually really hungry, too,” Gwyn agreed.
“Well, if Gwyn is hungry, then we gotta go eat now!” Nesta declared.
Azriel nodded, his expression serious.
Cassian sighed.
“I’ll meet you guys there,” Cassian called out as he walked towards his car with Nesta, “Or not. It’s also fine if you get lost on the way.”
Azriel responded by raising a choice finger.
The mirth was still in the air as Nesta closed the car door on the passenger’s side.
“I can drive if you want,” she joked as Cassian slammed his door shut. Nesta was a notoriously reckless driver. She hated driving unless she had to, and Cassian loved driving, so it usually worked out perfectly.
He laughed. “I appreciate the offer, but I’d like to live.”
The car got quiet as the laughter faded. It filled instead with an intimate intensity.
Cassian turned slightly to buckle his seatbelt.
Nesta reached over and placed a hand on his cheek. Cassian inhaled sharply and lifted his gaze to meet hers. Her thumb caressed his cheek.
“Cassian,” she whispered. She knew the look in her eyes said it all already, but it had said it for so long and she’d never once let her tongue speak it. But Cassian — brilliant, beautiful, splendid Cassian who had been hurt far too much by the world — deserved to hear them aloud. It scared her for too many reasons to count, but if ever there was anyone worth confronting that fear for, it was this man who sat next to her in all his marvelous glory.
His eyes were open — vulnerable, in a way he always was with her. Sometimes she wondered whether she deserved to be allowed to handle his precious heart that too many had tried to shatter. What if she dropped it or dented it with her harshness? But he entrusted her with it anyway.
She took a deep breath. Then, she let it out, alongside the words she’d been holding in for so long.
“I love you.”
Cassian’s eyes filled with tears. He opened his mouth to reply, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Not a single word escaped despite his attempts, but Nesta understood and just smiled, her eyes shining with joy.
“Don’t worry, you don’t need to respond.”
Cassian looked frustrated at himself as a tear rolled down his cheek. “But I- I do. I-” He screwed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath.
Nesta knew that those three words were not ones Cassian had heard very much in his life. Shirina had likely been the first to say those words to him in his memory, and that hadn’t been til his teen years. Cassian’s mother had most likely loved him, but Cassian’s memories of her were sparse.
Enalius certainly loved Cassian, but Nesta was just as certain that he would not say it out aloud. Enalius showed his love through his coaching, his cheering, and the letters he’d send from all over the world.
Ayla, Rhysand, and Azriel also loved Cassian and weren’t shy about it these days, although none of them were particularly vocal about it either. They preferred to show it through gifts and hugs and jokes and advice. When they had met, however, they had all been preteens who wouldn’t have been caught dead saying the words ‘I love you’.
Cassian had certainly had flings and girlfriends in the past. Nesta didn’t know the details of all of his past relationships, but she could easily guess that those words had seldom or, more likely, never been exchanged.
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “You don’t need to say anything right now.”
And then, just because she could — because she now had the freedom to say it without being caged by fear — she added, “I love you, Cassian.”
Cassian answered with a kiss that said, ‘I love you more than words can ever express.’
__________
Present day
“I was such a mess,” Cassian recalled fondly. “Rhys and Az laughed at me for bawling so much.”
“I remember Gwyn saying that she could take the trophy if it was making you so sad,” Nesta added.
“Nah, I think I’ll keep it,” he laughed. Then, he added, “I love you.”
“Are you talking to me or the trophy?”
“Oh, the trophy, for sure.”
“Oh, good, just wanted to make sure.”
They grinned at each other.
“You have no idea how I felt when I saw you make that heart that day,” he said. “I mean, I was already elated because of the goal I’d just scored, but that couldn’t even compare to how I felt when I looked up at you. I think my heart literally skipped a beat.”
“Better visit a cardiologist then,” Nesta answered lightly.
Cassian flicked her nose. She shrieked loudly in return.
“You know what you sound like?” Cassian tapped a photo in the middle, which was surrounded by doodles of musical notes.
Nesta mock-gasped. “Excuse you, I wasn’t that bad.”
“You’re right, you were worse.”
__________
Three years ago
“What’s that?”
Nesta pointed towards a large, lumpy black bag resting against Cassian’s bedroom wall.
“Oh, sorry, I was practicing earlier and forgot to put it away.” Cassian moved the bag to his closet. “It’s my guitar.”
Nesta placed her hand on Cassian’s wrist before he could shut the closet.
“You play guitar?”
“Yeah, it’s something I picked up when living with Shirina. I’m not a pro or anything, but it’s a fun hobby, you know.”
“Wow, would you… could you play something for me?”
Cassian seemed surprised but nodded, pulling the guitar back out of the closet.
He sat down on the floor, his back resting against the bed. “What do you want me to play?”
Nesta sat down beside him. “Anything you want. Just play me something you enjoy playing.”
Cassian absently strummed the guitar a few times, deep in thought.
“Alright, sweetheart. Here we go. This song is called la rosa del principe.” Cassian closed his eyes and started playing.
Nesta watched him with bright eyes, mesmerized.
After a while, he started singing. His deep voice complemented the melody he was strumming. His singing was nice, but it was the passion in his voice that warmed Nesta’s insides.
“Wow,” Nesta whispered when the song ended.
Cassian chuckled. “Shirina loved that song. She’s the one that signed me up for some guitar lessons, you know. She taught me the lyrics to la rosa del principe when I told her I didn’t know them. She was always humming the melody when she was cooking or doing chores or whatever. I think it was a song her mom liked, so it reminded her of her childhood.”
“Does it remind you of your childhood?”
Cassian took a moment to contemplate his answer. “It reminds me of Shirina, and how kindly and lovingly she treated me. That wasn’t really a common theme in my childhood, you know, but I suppose you could say it reminds me of some of the best parts of my childhood.”
Nesta nudged his shoulder with hers comfortingly. He gently pushed back against her in a silent gesture of gratitude. They sat in comfortable silence for a moment.
Then, Nesta pressed a kiss to his cheek and whispered, “Could you teach me?”
Cassian swallowed roughly and nodded.
“The lyrics are kind of complicated, since it’s not in English, but I can just teach you the chorus for now if you want.”
“Sure,” she smiled.
Cassian spoke the lyrics slowly. Nesta tried to repeat after him, though she didn’t do the best job judging by Cassian’s chuckles.
“Close. It’s tramonto, not tremare,” he corrected.
“What do the lyrics mean?” Nesta asked.
“The song is a love letter to a rose. It’s a metaphor for loving something so delicate and impermanent,” he explained. “The song is from the point of view of this guy who is so powerful — he’s a prince, he can travel across galaxies, he can do whatever he wants — but he feels so powerless because he knows he can’t control what happens to this rose that he loves. And even though he’s rich and powerful, he gets lonely a lot and his rose is his only companion so he dreads the thought of leaving it or having it disappear.”
“That sounds kind of tragic.”
“I guess so, but it’s not sad per se. It’s more like a reminder of the importance of love rather than materialistic things, and not taking your loved ones for granted.”
He kissed her cheek.
Nesta smiled. “That’s beautiful.”
Cassian hummed in agreement. “It’s such a Shirina song. She loved songs with morals like that, that remind you to appreciate what you have. She was so down-to-Earth, even though her husband was one of the richest, most powerful people around here. It’s…” He trailed off with a sigh.
“I’m glad you met her,” Nesta said quietly after a moment. “She sounds like a great person and I’m so happy you had her in your life.”
“Yeah, me too.” He took a deep breath. “I wish you could’ve met her. I think… I think she would have loved you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
They sat quietly for a moment. Then, Cassian grinned mischievously.
“Cas! What the fu-” yelped Nesta as he lifted her up.
He placed her between his legs with a huff of laughter. She leaned back into him, her back pressing against his front.
Cassian placed the guitar in her lap.
“Alright, it’s time for you to learn how to play this magnificent instrument,” he declared.
“Okay, but I’m just warning you, I don’t really have experience playing instruments.”
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m just here to help you learn some basics. Besides, you’re a dancer so you have some experience with rhymes and stuff. How bad could you be?”
Holding her hands in his, he demonstrated how to hold the guitar and how to strum a basic chord.
“You got it!” Cassian cheered as Nesta played a C chord that didn’t sound half bad.
“Ok, so then,” Cassian moved their hands to a different position. “Use your pointer finger to hold down this string. Good! Your middle finger holds this one and your ring finger holds this one.”
He continued his explanation of different chords and strumming patterns.
“So, basically, you just hold down different strings and strum up and down for different notes, right?” Nesta asked as he finished.
Cassian chuckled. “Basically, yeah.”
“Alright.” Nesta wiggled her hands free from Cassian’s grasp and took a dramatic deep breath. “It’s time. I’m going to play.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What are you going to play? I haven’t taught you how to play la rosa del principe yet.”
She shrugged. “I’m just going to let my imagination and inspiration guide me.”
“Uh, I’m not sure that’s going to turn out-”
A jumbled chord cut him off.
“Um-”
What followed next was the most chaotic, screechy minute of guitar playing Cassian had ever heard. The torture likely would have continued for longer, since he didn’t have the heart to stop Nesta, if they hadn’t been interrupted by the Cassian’s bedroom door slamming open.
Azriel yelled, “Cassian! I think a cat is dying in your ro- oh, hey Nesta.”
“Hey Az!” she replied, beaming at Cassian’s roommate until she registered his words. “Wait, what? You think I sound like a dying cat?”
Azriel took a step back, prepared to run away, as Nesta stood up and placed the guitar in Cassian’s lap.
“Well, you know, uh, it’s good to practice and all, but we don’t want noise complaints from our neighbors, or allegations of animal abuse so…” Az smirked.
“Wha- animal- Get back here you little-” Nesta sprinted down the hallway, chasing after a cackling Azriel.
Cassian was still sitting there, laughing, when the two of them ran back into the room.
“Save me, Cass!” Azriel pleaded as he tried to hide behind his friend.
Nesta smirked. “You really think you can use my boyfriend against me like this?”
“He was my friend first!” Azriel gripped his sleeve.
Nesta rolled her eyes.
“Please Cassian,” she said in an airy voice. She looked up at him through her lashes and gently tugged on his sleeve.
He followed her lead without even thinking, until Azriel muttered, “Traitor.”
“Hey, wait-” Cassian interjected, coming to his senses.
Nesta stuck her tongue out at Az. “He loves me.”
Whatever Cassian could have said on Azriel’s behalf dissipated when her eyes softened as they met his.
Even Azriel’s over-the-top gagging noises couldn’t ruin the moment as Nesta smiled at him and murmured, “Can you teach me how to play la rosa del principe later?”
“We’ll see,” Cassian replied with a smile, knowing full well that he’d cave into her demands, no matter the cost to his ears.
__________
Present day
“I love that you wanted to learn how to play guitar for me.” Cassian’s eyes were warm and full of mirth. “Even if playing music isn’t exactly your strong suit.”
Nesta placed a hand over her heart. “How dare you suggest such a thing.”
Her stern demeanor gave way to playfulness as she winked, “I guess you’ll just have to sing and play music for me while I dance.”
“Exactly. You see, Nes, we complement each other perfectly.”
“A match made in heaven,” she agreed with a laugh.
“Honestly, though, it meant a lot to me that you wanted to hear me play,” Cassian said when they stopped laughing, “and that you wanted to learn.”
“It meant a lot to me that you were willing to share such a personal song with me,” Nesta answered, “and that you were willing to be so open with me without prompting. It was like a sign, you know, that our relationship was actually real and meaningful to you, too. Of course I already knew that but, like, I guess it just hit home right then.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean. In that moment, I also felt how easy it was to be open and talk about anything and everything with you.”
“You see?” Nesta winked, gesturing between them. “We’re made for each other.”
She glanced down at the pictures between them.
“At least I don’t need to put up with Az insulting my musical talents anymore, now that you don’t live together.”
“Talents?” Cassian coughed.
Nesta shot him a warning glare before continuing, “I’m so glad I don’t need to hear him complaining or interrupting us anymore. That was the real reason I asked you to live with me, you know — so I wouldn’t have to hear his whining.”
“Oh, I’m well aware,” he replied. He leaned closer to her. “It was all part of my plan, Sweetheart.”
__________
Two years ago
“Don’t mind me, I just need to get to the kettle.”
Nesta and Cassian sprung apart at Azriel’s words.
Azriel, with a bored expression, walked past the couple into the kitchen and filled water in the kettle.
Cassian hastily redid his fly, clearing his throat a few times. Nesta, blushing furiously, scrambled to hook her bra and do up the buttons on her shirt.
Azriel turned back around, leaning back against the counter as he waited for the water to boil. He reached into his back pocket for his phone, but noticed Nesta’s expression and rolled his eyes. “Oh my god, Nesta, chill. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”
Cassian furrowed his eyebrows. “What?” he growled.
Azriel shook his head in exasperation. “How many times have I walked in on you two making out — hell, how many times have I walked in on you two fucking in common spaces? At this point, I’m immune to all this.” He waved his hand at Nesta’s half-open shirt and Cassian’s bare chest.
Cassian slipped his shirt over his head.
“Really?” Nesta asked, arching a perfectly angled eyebrow and tossing her hair over her shoulder. Cassian elbowed her and she giggled, buttoning up the rest of her shirt.
“Az-” Cassian began, annoyance coloring his tone.
“No,” Azriel interrupted firmly. “If you don’t want me to walk in or interrupt you or whatever, go do whatever you want in your room. I’ve never once complained about the noise, even when I have to put up with your loud-ass moans and screams. But I have the right to make tea in my own house if I want to.”
Cassian narrowed his eyes. His stance changed unconsciously, gearing up for a fight. He opened his mouth to deliver a biting retort.
“You’re right, Az,” Nesta interjected before the situation could escalate any further. “We’re sorry.”
Azriel was silent, his eyes fixed on Cassian. The latter let Nesta pull him towards his bedroom.
About a week later, Cassian and Nesta were once again interrupted. This time, Azriel crunched loudly on his popcorn as he walked into the living room.
Cassian sent him a questioning glare as Nesta scrambled to cover herself.
“What?” Azriel replied, unfazed. “I was gonna watch TV, but, well, it seems like there’s a show right here.”
“Look-”
“C’mon, Cass.” Nesta sprung up from the couch, dressed in Cassian’s shirt, and took her boyfriend’s hand. “I needed to talk to you about something, anyway.” She winked at him and whispered, “I got a little side-tracked and forgot.”
Cassian shot Az a dirty look as he exited the room.
“Did you actually need to talk about something,” Cassian asked with a smile as he sat down on his bed and placed Nesta on his lap, “or did you just want to distract me?”
He leaned his forehead against hers.
Nesta laughed lightly. “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t always lie to manipulate you.”
He widened his eyes in false disbelief. “Really?”
She shook her head with a grin. “Why would I when I can manipulate you just as well with the truth?”
“Ooh, you saucy witch,” Cassian joked.
They both laughed.
Nesta pressed a hand to Cassian’s cheek to stop him as he leaned in to kiss her.
“I do actually want to talk about something.”
He leaned back and cocked his head. “What’s up?”
The twinkle in Nesta’s eyes dimmed.
“It’s my apartment.” She swallowed. “My landlord is raising the rent.”
“Again?” he replied, alarmed. It had only been four months since the last time her rent had increased.
She nodded. “Yeah. And it’s not… I mean, it would be ridiculous for me to stay there, even if I managed to afford it. It’s definitely not worth the new rent.”
“So you want to move?”
“Yeah.”
Cassian seemed confused by her nervous tone. “Alright, well, don’t worry about it, okay? I’ll help you with all your stuff, and I know a guy with a moving truck. It’ll all be okay. We’ll find you a way better place to live.”
He gave her an encouraging squeeze and smile that she didn’t return.
“Uh, well, um. Actually, I was wondering if…” Nesta rolled her lips.
Cassian frowned, concerned by Nesta’s hesitant tone.
“Could I- I mean, I already spend so much time at your place,” she continued, “and I stay here a lot and we- um. Since I have to get a new place…”
“Of course you can stay here while you look for a new place!” Cassian replied.
“Oh!” Nesta sounded surprised. “No, I- I mean, thank you. But, uh, that’s not really what I was gonna…” She shook her head, annoyed at her own incoherence. “That’s really sweet of you, Cass.”
Cassian gave her a long look, trying to decipher her thoughts. “Are you trying to find a place on this block? I can try to get the inside scoop if that’s what you were asking.”
“No, no, that’s not what I-” She took a deep breath and then looked into Cassian's eyes. “Would you want to live with me?”
Cassian blinked. “Oh! Oh, I-” He started to grin. Then, he blinked again, and his face fell. “Oh, uh, I…”
“It’s totally fine if not!” Nesta quickly backtracked. “I know you already signed this lease and stuff, and I can definitely just move-”
“No, it’s- I-” It was Cassian’s turn to take a deep breath. “Nesta, I would love to live with you and I’m honored that you asked me and I’m- I’m so, so happy that you want to live with me. But, well, I just don’t know if it will work out, considering.” He shot a glance towards the door.
Nesta got up from Cassian’s lap. “Oh.” She looked away from him as she gathered her clothes off the floor, trying to disguise her hurt. “Um, okay. Yeah. I get it.” Her thoughts spiraled as she changed out of Cassian’s shirt.
“Nes! Nesta, I…” Cassian seemed to be at a loss for words. “You know I love you, right?”
“Yeah,” she replied half-heartedly after a beat.
“Nes, I just…” he sounded frustrated. “You know how things have been lately, with Az. As much as I… I don’t think it’s realistic to think that he’d be okay with it, and of course I’d talk to him beforehand but, like, it is his place too and…”
She gave a noncommittal hum in reply.
The room was drenched in tense silence.
“Can you just be honest?” Nesta said finally, puncturing the tension. “If you don’t want to move in with me, just say it. I understand you’re renting this place with Az, but he isn’t unreasonable. We both know that if you talked about it, he’d be cool with it. Maybe he’d ask you to wait for a bit, until the end of this lease or whatever, but he wouldn’t stop you. So just tell me why you don’t want to live with me, because I- I thought we were… that this was…”
“I am being honest,” Cassian frowned.
She gave an irritated sigh.
“No, really, I am,” he insisted. “You were there with me in the living room, weren’t you? Didn’t you see how pissed he was? I guess maybe it wasn’t- Az isn’t the type to yell or anything. That quiet, passive-aggressive type shit is how he expresses his annoyance.”
“So?” Nesta bit back. “If anything, I would have thought he’d be glad if we weren’t here as often.”
“Exactly! I don’t think we should spend more time here.”
Nesta paused. “What?”
“I know you and Az do get along,” he said, “but I really don’t think he’d be fine with you moving in here.”
“Here? Wait, you thought- Oh. Oh!” Nesta brightened visibly.
“What?” Cassian seemed bewildered by her sudden change in mood.
“Cassian, I wasn’t asking to move in here,” she laughed. “I was asking you to move in with me at a new place we’ll find together.”
Cassian’s eyes widened in realization. “Oh! Yes, of course, I’d love that! Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I thought- but- yes!”
Nesta grinned. “I should’ve been clearer, sorry about that.”
“No, no, it’s on me.” His face slowly spread into a grin. “Guess we’ll have to work on communicating better if we’re gonna live together, huh?”
“I guess so,” she beamed.
Nesta embraced Cassian tightly.
“We’re living together!” she whispered excitedly.
He hugged her back. “Yes, we are,” he replied just as thrilled.
__________
Present day
“I can’t believe we were so stupid,” Nesta laughed.
“I know right?” Cassian looked down at the photo once more. “No, but seriously, I was so elated when we moved into this place.”
Nesta smiled fondly. “Yeah, me too. I smiled for, like, 48 hours straight, even though we had to carry all those boxes and,” she paused dramatically, “unpack.” She shuddered.
“Ah, yes, unpacking — the harshest of struggles.”
“I’m so glad you understand.”
“Oh, no, I don’t mind unpacking, but well,” Cassian ran a hand through his hair suavely, “some people are just built different.”
Nesta flipped him off playfully.
“Aw, sweetheart, don’t be jealous,” he replied consolingly, “I have my own weaknesses. Like, I hate packing.”
She huffed. “Cass-”
“What? Oh, c’mon, what’s the point of my trauma if I can’t joke about it?”
She shook her head with a chuckle. “So you’re saying that all that trauma was just character development so you could increase your humor stats?”
Cassian pointed finger guns at her. “Cha-ching! Now you get it.”
Nesta laughed.
She looked around, still awed by the beautiful display Cassian had set up for her. She picked up a rose petal and admired its color and scent. As she fiddled with it, she was suddenly struck by a thought.
“Where are Ara and Lina?”
“They’re with Em,” Cassian said reassuringly. “Don’t worry, I’ll clean all this stuff up before they get back.”
“Oh, they love being at Emerie’s place. They get along so well with Siph, it’s crazy.” Nesta paused, struck by another thought. “Wait, but why did you ask her to watch them? I mean, why did you organize this whole-”
“Remember when we got them?” Cassian interrupted, pointing to another polaroid. “They used to be so tiny! It’s crazy how much they’ve grown.”
Nesta cocked her head, confused by Cassian ignoring her question. Before she could continue her line of questioning, however, her eyes landed on the photo he was indicating and she got sidetracked.
“Oh my gosh, yeah,” she breathed as she reminisced. “I can’t believe we thought we were going to walk into the shelter without adopting a pet.”
“I can’t believe we told the landlord that we didn’t care about the pet policy because we were never going to get one,” he answered.
“We’re so lucky we accidentally got an apartment that allows pets,” she agreed.
“I’ll never forget the look on Cresseida’s face when we told her,” Cassian added.
She replied, “She made sure we’d never forget. She was saying ‘I told you so’ for months.”
__________
One year ago
“We’ll stop by for a bit, but we’re not adopting any pets,” Nesta repeated for the fifth time in the past ten minutes.
“Okay,” Cresseida answered with a knowing smirk, “but it’s also okay if you change your mind.”
Cresseida, Emerie’s girlfriend, ran a pet shelter with her best friend, Nuala. She had invited all of Emerie’s friends to stop by anytime, saying that she and the animals enjoyed having company.
Nesta and Cassian had resisted at first, since they weren’t looking for pets and, in Nesta’s words, “weren’t the pet type”. Neither of them had ever owned a pet before. While they respected people who loved their pets, they also enjoyed making fun of those who dressed up in matching outfits with their pets for Halloween and talked about their pets as though they were their children. Also, while Nesta didn’t dislike animals per se, she also didn’t like them enough to feel any desire to live with one 24/7, let alone take care of one. Cassian liked animals well enough but he’d had some bad experiences with stray dogs when he was a kid. When they visited friends who owned big dogs who would greet visitors by pouncing on them or barking excitedly, Cassian would always plaster a fake smile on his face, but she’d feel him flinch.
However, when Emerie used her puppy-dog eyes and pleaded with Nesta to just go once to support her girlfriend’s work, she’d caved and agreed to visit. Cassian and Gwyn — both of whom had yet to visit the shelter — came along with her, saying they should all just get it over with together.
“This side of the shelter has dogs,” Cresseida said as they walked in, “and this side has cats. There are also some other animals in the back section. Feel free to walk around and ask me if you have any questions. Right now, most of the animals are in their individual kennels and the kennel doors are locked but let me know if you want to play with any of them.”
“Alright, thanks,” Nesta replied.
She and Cassian shared a look. Both of them wanted to humor Cresseida, who was a great person and also the best girlfriend Emerie had (at least in Nesta’s opinion), but they both knew they wouldn’t be interested in any animals. They would just wander around the shelter until an appropriate amount of time had passed and they could politely leave.
“Ooh, a kitten!” Gwyn exclaimed, grabbing Nesta’s hand and pulling her into the cat section.
Meanwhile, Cassian followed Cresseida into a different area.
“Oh my gosh, this baby is only 12 weeks old,” Gwyn cooed at the striped tabby cat. “Isn’t she adorable?”
“She is cute,” Nesta admitted, but Gwyn had already moved on.
“Wow, this cat has the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen! Oh, and look at this one! Do you see the face he’s making?”
Nesta laughed and followed her friend, nodding along to Gwyn’s excited commentary.
Finally, Gwyn came to a halt with a gasp. She kneeled down wordlessly in front of an orange kitten, who blinked back at her sleepily. Nesta kneeled down next to Gwyn. She looked at the kennel in front of her. A jet-black cat was at the other corner of the kennel, hissing and growling at the young boy who was trying to attract its attention. His mother pulled him away just as the cat attempted to scratch the child through the glass.
“Crazy feral cat,” Nesta heard the mother grumble under her breath as they walked away.
Nesta raised an eyebrow at the cat, who regarded her with an equally judgemental expression. Nesta took a step closer to the glass. The cat did the same.
She tuned out Gwyn mumbling something. Instead, she turned her focus to the tag on the kennel.
“Oh, wow, you still don’t have a name even though you’re eight months old, huh,” Nesta said. She had always thought it was a bit silly how pet owners talked to animals as though they could really answer, but now she found it to be the most natural thing in the world. Especially when the cat meowed in response.
Nesta cocked her head. The cat studied her for a few seconds. It stared intensely with its yellow eyes. Then, it tilted its head, copying her.
She couldn’t help but melt. How was it possible that such a sweet cat had yet to find a home?
“Nesta! There you are!”
Nesta jolted as Cresseida’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
“I see you found little Miss Onyx over here,” Cresseida smiled. “I’ve never seen her be so friendly with any customers before.”
“Is her name Onyx, then?”
“Oh, no. We have tried to name her before, but she seems to hate every name we’ve tried, so we kind of gave up,” Cresseida explained. “We couldn’t keep calling her ‘the unnamed black cat’, though, so now we just refer to her by black object names.” Cresseida turned towards the cat. “Isn’t that right, Blackberry?”
The cat hissed and retreated to the corner of her kennel closest to Nesta.
Cresseida laughed. “See?” Then, she sent Nesta a knowing glance. “She seems to adore you.”
Nesta glanced back at the cat, who was now sitting with a paw on the glass.
“She is very cute,” she admitted.
“She is,” Cresseida agreed. “Sadly, she’s fierce enough that she scares away most customers.”
“It’s like she’s made for Nesta!” Gwyn piped up. “I mean, look at her spunky attitude, her fierceness, her witchy vibes — since, you know, she’s a black cat.”
“I don’t have witchy vibes,” Nesta muttered.
Gwyn ignored her. “Not to mention, she’s right next to Mer,” she pointed to the orange cat, “who is my soulmate cat so our cats are destined to be best friends, just like us!”
“Wow, I didn’t- I haven’t said I’m adopting her yet,” Nesta protested.
“Yet,” Gwyn repeated, wiggling her eyebrows playfully.
Cresseida laughed. “Well, let me know if you are seriously interested in adopting Miss Obsidian. There’s a few things you would need to keep in mind for her that we should talk about.”
Nesta nodded.
“What about Mer?” Gwyn asked. “Any special care she needs that I should know about?”
“Not really. We did have her on a special diet for a bit because she was slightly malnourished when we found her but she’s at a healthy weight now.”
Nesta walked away as Gwyn and Cresseida continued their animated discussion. How was she going to convince Cassian to adopt a cat? Actually, Nesta knew that wouldn’t be an issue — Cassian would surely jump at any opportunity to make her happy. The real question was how she was going to put aside her pride and admit that she wanted to adopt the cat. She would also have to see if Cassian wanted to adopt the cat, too, and not just for her sake. It would be unfair to both Cassian and the cat to bring her into a home where only one person truly loved her. Not that Cassian wouldn’t be kind to the cat, regardless — it was just that Nesta wanted Cassian to adopt the cat because it made him happy, instead of doing it for Nesta’s sake.
Nesta was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she walked right into someone.
“Excuse me,” Nesta apologized. The man turned around.
“You’re excused, Nes,” Cassian replied with a wink.
“Oh, fuck you,” she groaned, holding back a smile.
“I know I’m hot, but you’re gonna have to wait til we get home.”
She replied with a soft punch to his shoulder. Cassian fell to the floor dramatically.
A bark sounded from the kennel right in front of Cassian. Nesta quickly examined Cassian for any signs of fear, but he wasn’t flinching. Instead, he tugged gently on her arm.
“Nes,” he said with a grin as she sat down beside him, “Let me introduce you to my new friend, Lina.”
Nesta turned to find a large golden retriever wagging her tail energetically. She was beautiful and friendly, but she also definitely weighed more than twenty kilograms and had a full set of sharp teeth. In short, she was exactly the type of dog that Cassian would usually be uncomfortable around.
Yet, here he was, saying, “Look, I know we agreed that we were just looking around and we weren’t going to adopt any pets but look at her! Her cute paws, that gorgeous fur, and those eyes! And she’s so happy to see me! Doesn’t it just make you want to keep her forever?”
His expression said it all: he’d fallen completely in love with this dog.
“Cassian…”
His expression dropped. “I know taking care of a pet is a lot of work. If we did adopt her, I would walk her and figure out her food and vet stuff, but she would be living with both of us, so I would never want to adopt her if you weren’t completely on board. And having a pet would affect our lifestyle and our day-to-day lives a lot, so I understand if you’d rather not adopt her.”
“Do you want to adopt her?” Nesta blurted out.
Cassian looked confused.
“I mean, she’s obviously a beautiful and friendly dog, but she’s in a kennel right now,” Nesta explained. “If we adopt her, she could jump on you or bite you or scratch you. Won’t you be on edge having a dog in our apartment all the time, even if you’re tired or having a rough day?”
“All the other dogs I’ve met make me nervous, either when they bark or pant or just by being close to me. They remind me of rough times in my childhood, when I was scared and in danger. But for some reason, Lina is different. I don’t get any of that fear or anxiety around her. In fact, it’s the opposite. She makes me feel relaxed and happy. I think she actually makes me feel safe.” Cassian ran a hand through his hair. “Weird, huh?”
Nesta smiled. “I’m glad you found her. I still want you to take her for a walk before we sign anything if we’re going to adopt her.”
“Wait, but- We don’t need to adopt her just because I want to. If you don’t want a pet, you shouldn’t agree just for my sake,” he added hurriedly. Still, Nesta could see the corners of his mouth tilting up.
“Yes, I want to adopt her! And,” Nesta continued, seeing Cassian opening his mouth to argue, “do you really think that I would ever agree to something I didn’t want to do, just for someone else’s sake?”
“Yeah, I do. I know you’re a big softie,” Cassian teased.
She laughed. “Well, trust me, I do want to adopt a pet.”
“Of course she wants to!” Gwyn interjected, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. “You should have seen her with that cat. It was like she’d found her twin flame! No offense, Cassian.”
“Wait, what cat?” he replied, befuddled.
Nesta attempted to wave him off. “It’s nothing-”
“It’s not nothing!” Gwyn interrupted animatedly. “It’s her cat soulmate! A little ball of anger and adorable-ness, just like our little Nesta here.”
Nesta sent her friend a flat look. “Thanks a lot for that description.”
Gwyn just shrugged. “What? You know I’m right.”
“Where can I find this cat?” Cassian asked.
Gwyn pointed him in the right direction, telling him about all the ways in which the cat represented Nesta while pointedly ignoring Nesta’s calls of “No, it’s fine” and “You don’t need to go look at the cat” and “I don’t have spooky evil vibes!”.
“Aww, look at her,” Cassian smiled as he crouched in front of the black cat’s kennel.
The cat hissed in return.
“You’re so beautiful, aren’t you? Yes, you are! Good girl!” cooed Cassian.
The cat abruptly stopped hissing. She stared at him unblinkingly before purring quietly.
Gwyn erupted with laughter. “Wow, she really is just like Nesta, huh? Everything down to the praise ki-”
Her words were cut off as Nesta covered Gwyn’s mouth with her hand.
“What the fuck, Gwyn! She’s a cat! That’s disgusting,” Nesta hissed in her ear.
Gwyn licked Nesta’s palm, and used the moment Nesta recoiled as a distraction to pull her hand off.
“I just tell it how I see it,” Gwyn declared. “And I have never once been disgusting.”
“Oh really?” Nesta replied, bringing the hand Gwyn had licked close to Gwyn’s face.
Gwyn screeched and ran down to hide behind Cassian.
Cassian remained focused on the cat. “Oh, you’re such a sweetheart. What’s your name, baby?”
“She doesn’t have a name yet,” Nesta supplied, before bringing her licked hand around Cassian to reach for Gwyn. The redhead let out another shriek and ran.
Nesta could see the moment Cassian melted. His posture seemed to go soft as his expression turned even more tender.
“You don’t have a name yet, huh?” he murmured. “I guess you need a family to give you a name and a home and some love.”
She placed her non-licked hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. She didn’t need to ask to know that he was thinking of his own childhood — when he’d needed a home and a family, too.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Cassian whispered, “me and your mom are going to give you so much love.”
“Cass, are you sure?” she questioned gently. She ignored how it made her feel to hear him refer to her as ‘mom’. There was too much to unpack there, and she would save it for later, after they’d finished making important decisions.
“Look at her, Nes,” he replied. “It’s like she was made for us.”
Nesta knew it was more than just about the resemblances between her and the cat that Gwyn had pointed out. It was about how this cat hissed and growled at strangers, putting her guard up, but really was just a sweet kitten who needed some love. Both of them could relate to putting on a tough face to hide how vulnerable and hurt they really were.
She knew Cassian was thinking that this cat would be a perfect addition to their lives.
“But what about Lina?” Nesta insisted.
“You love this cat. Don’t try to deny it, I can tell.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“I think,” Cassian said carefully, “we both love this cat and we should adopt her.”
Nesta narrowed her eyes. “And what are we doing about the fact that we both love Lina?”
This wasn’t just about the animals, and they both knew that.
It wasn’t that Nesta didn’t think Cassian wanted to adopt the cat — she knew he really, truly did. But she also knew that he wanted to adopt Lina. She wouldn’t let him give up on his wishes and always put her needs above his. While she appreciated the sentiment, she also knew he had a tendency to discount his own desires. She needed him to know that what he wanted mattered just as much.
Cassian let out a big breath like a deflating mattress, the fight going out of him.
“I love Lina, I do. And I know it’s so special that I feel so safe around her — around a big dog with sharp teeth. But Nes,” his voice took on a different tone, “at the end of the day, she’s a friendly golden retriever. I’m sure a million families with white picket fences are lining up to adopt her. And this cat… I mean, she doesn’t even have a name.”
His Adam's apple bobbed.
“I know we could love either of them, and they’d be incredible. But at least with Lina, I know she’ll find someone else to take care of her. I don’t know if this cat will find that, and she’s too…” Cassian paused to search for a word. His nose scrunched in frustration as his vocabulary failed him. “She’s too precious for me to take that chance.”
He needed his kitten to find a home. He couldn’t risk her never finding a family — not when he had so much love he could give her.
Nesta contemplated silently.
“Okay,” she finally said, her eyes piercing through him as though she intended to read his heart. “If you’re sure that’s what you want to do, we’ll get this cat.”
Cassian smiled. “Look at us, being real adults. Can you believe we’re going to be parenting this cutie?”
“Parenting,” repeated Nesta with a snort. “Don’t say it like that. It sounds like we’re having a baby or something. People are going to think I’m pregnant.”
“Oh my god, you’re pregnant?” Gwyn exclaimed, reappearing next to Nesta from wherever she’d run off to. She had clearly only caught the tail end of Nesta’s sentence.
“Wow, I’m so excited to be an aunt! Do you know the sex yet? Wait, how far along do you need to be to know that? How many months are you, by the way?” Gwyn spoke too rapidly for anyone to get a word in. “I had no idea about this! How have you been hiding the morning sickness? Or does everyone know about this already? Oh, gosh, this is so exciting!”
Nesta stayed silent, trying to hold in her smile. Cassian just looked bewildered.
Gwyn gave Nesta a light hug. “Oh, wow, this is crazy! Am I the first one to know? Wait, is it ok if I tell people? You can tell me if it’s still a secret, don’t worry.”
Cassian blinked. “No, that’s-”
“Oh, perfect!” Gwyn squealed. She reached over to hug Cassian, too. “Oh, I can’t wait to tell Emerie! Oh my god, and Az! His reaction is going to be insane!”
She practically skipped down the hallway, her fingers already tapping away on her phone.
Cassian raised an eyebrow at Nesta. “What just happened?”
Nesta finally let out a laugh. “Just Gwyn being Gwyn, I suppose.”
“You don’t mind?”
“I’m actually curious to see how far this goes.” She leaned forward, pressing her side against him. “Do you think they’ll throw me a surprise baby shower?”
“Rhys is going to be so pissed I’m having a baby before him,” Cassian grinned. “It’ll be hilarious.”
“We could tell them we’re having a daughter,” Nesta added, jerking her head towards the kitten.
Cassian laughed. He stood up and stretched out his body, likely feeling a slight ache because he’d been crouching for several minutes. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “This is why I love you, you mastermind.”
His lips brought with them a wave of warmth that spread through her veins.
“Time to go tell Cresseida that we are going to adopt a pet after all,” Nesta chirped.
Cassian groaned. “How about you go tell her, since you’re the one who was looking at this cat first,” he suggested.
“But you made the final decision,” she countered.
“Well, no, I,” Cassian wracked his brain to find an excuse, “I think you would, uh, be better at filling out the paperwork.”
“Hmm,” Nesta tapped a finger to her chin and pretended to consider his offer, “How about… you do it?”
They were saved from their squabble when Gwyn reappeared with Cresseida in tow.
“So, can I take Mer home with me today or should I set up my place to be cat-ready first?” Gwyn was saying.
“Ah, Cresseida! Just the person we were looking for!” Cassian interjected. “Nesta wanted to ask you something.”
Nesta sent him a frigid side eye that would have sent anyone else running for the hills, but only made Cassian grin.
“We were thinking about adopting her,” Nesta said, pointing at the cat in question, “and were wondering what we need to do to make that happen? Is there just paperwork or something else we need to do?”
Cresseida’s expression changed completely. “I knew you would all walk out of here with pets!” she exclaimed triumphantly. Then she sobered slightly. “I’m so glad you’re interested in this cat, but like I mentioned earlier, there is something you should know.”
Nesta nodded sharply. The anticipation and anxiety started to creep up on her. Was the cat sick? Or disabled in some way? Perhaps she and Cassian, as first time pet owners, weren’t equipped to give her the care she needed.
“When we found her, she was only about two months old,” Cresseida explained. “We’re not quite sure what happened to her mother, since she didn’t seem to be with her family. But she had already bonded to another animal. They’re still quite close. Even though they’re generally kept in separate kennels, we usually let them play with each other once or twice a day, or she’ll start to get antsy. If at all possible, it would be best not to separate them. It may be possible for her to get used to living without her bonded friend, especially if she’s in an environment where she’s well-loved and taken care of, but it would be very difficult on both of them. So if you would consider adopting both of them, that would really be for the best.”
“Like, another cat?” Nesta inquired.
“It’s not Mer, is it?” Gwyn asked, looking worried. “If it is, I guess I’m going to have to move in with Nesta and Cassian.” Her face suddenly brightened. “I can be like a live-in nanny!”
“No, it’s not Mer,” Cresseida replied, “and it’s actually not another cat. It’s quite a unique situation. We’re still not sure how these two found each other and came to be bonded, but the other animal is actually a dog.”
“Oh.” Nesta felt her heart sink. She would hate to separate the cat from the one other animal that had been with her since she was a baby, but she also couldn’t adopt a dog. She wouldn’t allow Cassian to feel unsafe in his own home.
“We could adopt both-” Cassian began, just as she knew he would.
“No,” she cut in. She didn’t care if it made her seem like the villain in Cresseida’s eyes. “I’m sorry, we can’t.”
Her eyes shifted to the kitten once more. The cat truly was adorable. Nesta would miss her tremendously, even though they’d only just met. Still, she couldn’t separate her from the friend who’d become her family. She would have to let her go. It hurt, but she knew it was for the best.
“I don’t think we’ll adopt her after all,” Nesta said. Though she had once prided herself on hiding her true emotions from the world, she could tell that both Gwyn and Cassian instantly read the meaning behind her aloof tone.
“Yeah, you’re right, that’s probably the right decision,” Gwyn supplied. “Adopting pets and having a baby at the same time would be really hard.”
Cassian kept silent. She knew he was itching to deny it, to demand that she adopt the cat anyway, his feelings be damned. She was glad that he knew her well enough that she would not be swayed, and that his well-being mattered more to her than anything else.
Cresseida sighed, disappointed. “I understand,” she said, resigned. “Dogs aren’t for everyone, especially if you have a lot on your plate. This dog really is the sweetest, although if you are allergic, a golden retriever wouldn’t be the right breed.”
“Hold on, did you say a golden retriever?” Cassian interjected. “You’re not talking about Lina, are you?”
Cresseida looked surprised. “I am, actually. I assume you’ve already made her acquaintance, then?”
“Wait, you’re saying we can adopt both Lina and this cat? And they wouldn’t fight or hurt each other?” Cassian repeated, as though he couldn’t believe his ears. It sounded too good to be true.
“They do play-fight occasionally, but no, they don’t hurt each other and they get along great. But, I understand that you can’t adopt a dog,” Cresseida answered, slightly confused.
Cassian turned to Nesta.
“Did you hear that, Nes? We can adopt them both.”
He was beaming.
“They’re so perfect,” he repeated as they brought Lina and the cat home a week later, after they’d made all the necessary preparations. “It’s like we were made to find them.”
She felt like she was floating, swept up by the exuberance in his eyes.
When she watched the kitten curl up in Cassian’s lap while Lina sat beside them, a paw resting against the cat’s back, she couldn’t find a name for the feeling that bubbled up inside her. The only viable contenders — love and contentment — seemed too small to capture it all.
When Cassian later asked her what she wanted to name the cat, she looked at the life they’d built together — the bookshelves lined with hockey history books and romance novels, the kitchen counter where Cassian’s favorite chocolate lay beside her mountainous tea collection, the polaroid pictures of them stuck to the fridge with magnets, and the pets filling their home with affection — and replied, “Ataraxia.”
Peace.
__________
Present day
“I can’t even bring Ara and Lina around Cresseida anymore,” Cassian grumbled. “She always just talks about how incredible it was that we actually believed we’d leave her shelter without a pet.”
“She’s a menace,” Nesta agreed, though her words lacked any real bite.
They both adored Cresseida, and were delighted at how happy she made Emerie. It was only that Cresseida shared their friend group’s penchant for teasing their friend mercilessly.
“Her cooking is amazing though, so she makes up for it,” Nesta continued. “I had no idea vegan food could taste that good until I met her.”
“Speaking of cooking…” Cassian pointed to the last photo. It was labeled ‘cooking breakfast’.
Nesta leaned in closer to inspect the image. “When was this?”
“What? You don’t remember?” Cassian gasped in mock offense.
Then, he took her hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll remind you.”
__________
Three months ago
Cassian awoke to the birds chirping and the smell of pancakes permeating the air. He rolled over in bed, reaching out for Nesta, only to find her side of the bed empty.
He let out a small sigh.
It was a Saturday morning, and his favorite thing to do on weekends when they didn’t have anything planned was to spend lazy mornings in bed with her. During the week, both of them were too busy to linger in bed. Snoozing their alarms once was the extent of their indulgence.
But on weekends, Cassian liked to savor the feeling of Nesta lying beside him. He would lay in silence, taking it all in — the blankets warmed by their body heat, the way Nesta’s hair glowed in the morning light, the gentle pressuring of her body laying against his. Eyes half-open, he would breathe deeply and allow the peaceful contentment to fill his lungs. When Nesta woke up, there would be time for slow kisses, quiet conversations, and tender lovemaking. Their room would fill with soft but unbound laughter and playful quips. Later, they would make their way to the kitchen. One of them (usually Cassian) would cook brunch while the other did the dishes, swept the floor, or started a load of laundry.
This morning, it seemed that Nesta had broken their usual routine.
As Cassian rolled out of bed, his eyes caught the alarm clock on his bedside table. It was 10:05 am, far later than he usually woke up on weekends. Cassian was almost always the first to wake, generally around 8 or 9 am, and he’d lay patiently until Nesta gained consciousness around 9:30.
Clearly, he’d been exhausted last night. It had been a long day of training, and then they’d gone out for dinner with his friends. After coming home, he and Nesta had watched a movie and then spent an hour tussling in their sheets. He’d fallen asleep as soon as he closed his eyes.
Cassian pulled on a pair of dark jeans and strolled out of the bedroom without bothering to find a shirt.
He found Nesta at the stove, flipping a pancake. She looked ethereal with her long hair down and shimmering in the light that flowed through the window.
“Morning, Nes,” he said after taking a moment to appreciate the view.
Nesta’s long legs were bare. She was dressed only in his striped button-up shirt which ended right below her butt. As she turned towards him, he could see that she hadn’t bothered to do up all the buttons on his shirt. The V dipped deep enough that, had she been wearing a bra, lacy bits would have peeked out, but she’d clearly thrown the shirt on without it. Was she wearing any underwear?
She sent him a small smile in greeting.
“Can’t believe you didn’t bother to wake me up,” he teased as he pulled one of the hair ties off his wrist and put his probably messy hair into a neat bun.
“Well, it seems like I tired you out last night and you clearly needed your beauty sleep,” she shot back.
“Are you trying to imply that I didn’t tire you out?”
She shot him a smirk. “Well, I was up first, wasn’t I?”
He narrowed his eyes at her, even as he held back a smile. He loved this easy back-and-forth, joking banter. “I’ll have to remedy that tonight,” he declared.
“Aww, did I bruise your little ego?”
She moved the pancake to a plate, and poured more batter into the pan.
“There’s nothing little about me,” he joked before walking up behind her and gently wrapping his arms around her. He was careful to steer clear of her arms, so that they wouldn’t accidentally touch the pan or the stove and get burned.
He rested his head in the crook of her neck. “I missed you this morning,” he whispered.
“Couldn’t survive a few minutes without me?” she answered. He couldn’t see her face, but he could hear her smile in the warmth of her tone.
“You know I’d be lost without you,” he answered. His tone was light and humorous, but his words were no less sincere.
She let out a small, fond chuckle. “Good thing I was only making breakfast then.”
He inhaled deeply. The smell of her vanilla and jasmine conditioner mixed with the sandalwood scent that lingered on his shirt. His neck was at a slightly awkward angle, bent down to accommodate Nesta’s forward-leaning posture as she cooked, but Cassian knew he’d be happy standing like this forever.
He stayed there for a few minutes, until Nesta stilled in his arms. He knew she needed to move in order to put the pancake on a plate and couldn’t do so with Cassian wrapped around her, but she also didn’t want him to let go.
He waited for a heartbeat, then gave her a slight squeeze before unwinding his arms. Before pulling away completely, he pressed a light kiss to the back of her neck.
Then, he walked over to the utensil drawer to start setting the table.
When he sat down, his eyes flickered to Nesta’s figure, waiting for her to join him. He was itching to serve himself one of the pancakes in the middle of the table and bite into deliciousness. They smelled absolutely incredible.
However, Nesta walked over with the pan still in her hand. She plopped the pancake from her pan straight onto his plate. Unlike the other pancakes, it wasn’t shaped like a circle.
“It was misshapen, so it reminded me of your face,” she quipped as she sat down after putting her pan in the sink.
“Very funny.” He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t stop his smile. The pancake was shaped like a perfect heart.
As they dug into their food, Cassian felt the domesticity seep into him. He knew how the rest of the day would likely go. They’d wash up together, and then Cassian would head out for a run with Lina while Nesta curled up on the couch with a book. He’d come home and shower, then make her a cup of tea. Later, they’d change the bedsheets, make a list of the groceries they needed to pick up, and chat, before watching a movie or ordering takeout. They’d end up having sex on the couch or in the shower — anywhere but on their freshly changed sheets — and then fall asleep curled around each other with Cassian’s arm slung over Nesta’s waist.
Their lives had fallen into a routine. And Cassian loved it. This peaceful life they’d built together could never be boring — not when they always filled it with so much playfulness and their jobs were filled with drama by necessity. The regularity was a blessing, not a curse. When Cassian walked through the doors to this apartment, he felt the tension of the outside world fade away. He felt at home.
He loved the life they had created together, and couldn’t imagine anything better than having mornings like this one for the rest of his life.
The thought should have shocked him, but it did not. He’d known for a long time that this was coming, but it was only now that it had fully sunk in.
He looked across the table at Nesta and caught her eye.
“What?” she asked with a grin.
He reached over and laced his pinky with hers.
“Nothing.” He smiled. “I love you.”
She shook her head fondly at his cheesiness, but still replied, “I love you.”
He wanted to declare his love for her in front of the whole world, and then spend the rest of his life with her. He couldn’t think of a better way to spend his life than dedicating it to loving her.
That day, he started researching rings.
__________
Present day
“I love you,” said Cassian. His eyes shone brightly. “I love all the moments we’ve spent together and the memories we’ve made.”
He walked around the table where the pictures lay and grasped her hands.
“I do too.” Nesta, although still confused by their impromptu outpour of emotion, was always eager to remind Cassian of just how much she adored him. “I love you so much.”
Cassian smiled. She could see that a million thoughts were swirling in his mind, but he took a breath to focus himself.
“I love you,” he said once more, as though he couldn’t help himself, just like he had after he’d first said the words. He’d been like a child who’d never been allowed sweets who had just been given a box of chocolates — he marveled at the fact that he had love in his grasp and he gorged himself on it, basking in the delight that he could say the words whenever he wished.
“Every minute, every second I get to spend with you is precious to me,” he continued. “Whether we’re at a party, a restaurant, a vacation, a match, or doing chores at home, every moment with you turns to gold. You made my life so beautiful and meaningful and happy, Nesta, in a way I never even imagined was possible. Even in the harshest moments, I know I’ll be okay because I get to come home to you every night. You’ve helped me learn how to live, not just survive. Because of you, I can love openly. Because of you, I can be myself without worrying that I’m too much. Because of you, I can let myself feel joy, instead of constantly worrying that it’s going to be ripped away from me. I can only hope that I can make you half as happy as you make me.”
“You make me happier than I ever thought possible,” Nesta answered. She was certain there were tears in her eyes, but she couldn’t bring herself to mind. There were so many things that she could say — how the world had appeared cold and cruel, just like her reflection in the mirror, until she’d seen it all through his eyes. She would never stop being inspired by him — how was it possible for him to be so kind when the world had been so awful to him? How was it that he got wholeheartedly excited when it snowed, despite knowing the stinging pain of a cold night on the streets? His joy was infectious, and now she couldn’t help but admire the beauty in every little thing — children skipping down the sidewalk, the leaves changing color, and the birds chirping in the morning.
Yet, she couldn’t find the words. How could she express the magnitude of her emotions for him, and just how much he’d changed her life? All she could do was look at him.
He squeezed her hands gently and she knew he understood.
“You’ve made me a better man.” His voice was slightly raspy as emotion clogged his throat. “My life is so much fuller with you in it. We’ve made so many beautiful memories,” he said, gesturing to the pictures with one hand, “and I want to dedicate the rest of my life to making more. It would be the greatest honor to spend my life by your side. I want to fill that table with a million — a billion — more memories.”
“So, Nesta Archeron,” He released her hands. She blinked in surprise and found him kneeling before her, a small box open in his hands with something sparkling inside. “Will you marry me?”
Her gaze had gotten blurred with tears, but she blinked them away now.
Cassian cut a stunning figure as he looked up at her, rose petals and candles glowing around him. His outfit flattered his body — the wine-red shirt showed off his muscular arms without being too tight and contrasted his skin tone well, bringing attention to his soft blush and curved lips to highlight his joy. His long hair was as glorious as usual, half of it pulled into a bun.
Still, it was the look in his eyes that caught her attention. His beautiful hazel eyes, framed by his long, dark lashes, sparkled not only with love and joy, but also with breathtaking certainty. Unlike during that bookstore date so long ago, Cassian was secure in their love. She could see in his eyes that, even if she said no, he would not doubt their relationship for a moment.
But of course, there was only one answer she would give to this wondrous man. He had come into her life like a fire, warming her and brightening her life in innumerable ways.
“Yes.”
__________
Please tell me if you would like to be added or removed from a tag list! I haven't posted in a while so I'm sorry if the taglist isn't up to date.
Permanent taglist: @maastrash // @cass-nes // @notmewrongbitch // @verypaleninja // @courtofjurdan // @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter // @stardelia // @laylaameersworld // @thewayshedreamed // @thatsowlmazing // @meanceclosetohell // @jungtaekwoonie-is-life // @rowaelinismyotp // @bakingandbooks3 // @grandma-noob-lord // @awesomelena555 // @ bookstantrash // @ireallyshouldsleeprn // @illyrianshadowhunter // @swankii-art-teacher // @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks // @moodymelanist // @letstakethedawn // @nestaspegasus // @superspiritfestival // @perseusannabeth // @my-fan-side // @that-golden-lyre // @emily-gsh // @champanheandluxxury // @ simpingfornestaarcheron // @duskandstarlight // @ladynestaarcheron // @sv0430 // @nesquik-arccheron // @friendswithkevin // @dontgetsalmonella // @inkedstarlight // @arinbelle // @thegreyj Nessian taglist: @makainight // @nahthanks // @cupcakey00 // @nessiantrashh // @audreycressworth // @lady-winter-sunrise // @wannawriteyouabook // @shamelessdonutkryptonite // @julemmaes
22 notes
·
View notes