damaged soul.

How does this always happen to her? She's been doing surveillance since she was a teenager, following people discreetly, getting footage, finding out their secrets. And she was good at it. Well, good might be a bit of an overstatement since she did get caught quite often, but she was good at talking herself out of uncomfortable situations— and she could usually charm or flirt her way out of any kind of confrontation when someone realized she'd been tailing them. Though their reactions were usually telling (the innocent don't have anything to hide, right?), the private investigator could almost always placate them. And when she couldn't? Her car was always nearby for a quick escape. But this time? Well...

But the woman was quick to meet up to her and then— hide behind her?— much to Cassia's horror. "No, no, no. I can't fight, don't hide behind me."

Her hands were out to the male who approached with a furious gaze but no weapon in hand, merely looking like he could kill with his eyes.

"I don't even know her. I don't know what's going on but you need to leave because this is freaking me out and my father is the sheriff of this town and my uncle, he's the mayor!"

Her hand moved towards the woman's hand, rising it up from her side to show the pepper spray and keep it in reach in case the creepy man lunged.

She chuckles low in her throat, amused by Cassia’s dramatic reenactment of her own demise. “You’ve really got a flair for theatrics,” she says, mouth tugging into a crooked smirk. “Keep that energy and you’d survive longer than most.”

Her gaze flicks to Cassia’s notebook—those scribbled notes, the seven question marks—and she huffs a quiet laugh. “You know, I think you might be the first person to take notes on a conversation with me that didn’t involve a lawyer or a wiretap.”

Sonny leans her hip against the counter now, her arms folding loosely across her chest again. “And no, I wasn’t in Paris Hilton’s house. Too pink. Too obvious. But yeah—experience. You spend enough time in places you’re not supposed to be, you learn things. Locks, people, rooms… they all talk if you’re quiet enough.” Her eyes linger on Cassia then, softer than before, like she’s saying more than what’s on the surface.

“Besides,” she adds, pushing off the counter, “you’d be surprised what people let you get away with when they think you’re just some pretty girl with too many questions. That’s the real trick—let them underestimate you. Let them look away.”

She glances at one of the plants near the window, inspecting a browning edge of a leaf with quiet focus. “And yeah, water—but not just that. Light. Heat. Time. Some plants need space. Others need company. Some survive on neglect. Others? One wrong move and they’re done for.” Her tone shifts—gentle, but laced with implication. “It’s not just about keeping them alive. It’s about paying attention.”

When Cassia says where she works, Sonny lets out a soft, “Ah,” like it all makes sense now. “The Rusty Spur. I’ve heard of it. Not been in it too much recently—too many eyes, too many loud men trying too hard to be quiet. And, I also kind of have a complicated relationship to the owner.” She shrugs. “But maybe I’ll stop by sometime. When I could use a drink that doesn’t come in a flask or with a fake name.”

She moves toward the plant shelf again, adjusting a tiny ceramic pot just slightly like it matters. Her voice is casual, but something edges underneath. “You tell anyone I picked that lock, I’ll deny it. Tell ’em you got lucky.” A smirk. “Gotta protect the mystique, you know?”

She looked over her one more time, down at her notes, and then at the plants that were all around them. After getting the needed information, Cass would have to put in the work and then there wouldn't be anyone to blame but at least she felt a little more informed than she'd been the day before so that had to count for something.

"With Wes?" She questioned with a tilt of her head. Evidently the girl hadn't gone into detail because she likely wanted to keep that a secret but maybe Cassia would just need to ask Wes about the mysterious woman who knew how to pick locks and had safe houses. Wes didn't seem like the type that would lie to her about something like that.

"You should. I'll get you a free drink." She'd pay for it because she wouldn't start giving alcohol away. Wes didn't deserve that and she liked her job too much to risk losing it over a six dollar drink. "It's the least I can do for all of this." Helping her break in, with the plants, and then also not murdering her.

The end.

for a song about a specific time in my muse's life

He can't help but hum in approval every time he sees that glint in her eye. The way she knocks her head back in pleasure and how her body moves, hungry for more. The arch of her back and the way she looked were so sensual, Sebastian felt like he was getting drunk at the sight of her. It's almost distracting how her face, like this, reminds him of how well he knows her. He knows what she likes, when she likes it, and the idea alone was enough of a push to use a bit of his lingering anger to add a little bit more spice to his touch. He pulls back after grinding into her, the feeling of her hand running down his chest causing him to still as she starts telling him precisely what she wants. Sebastian knocks his head back like he's in heaven hearing Cassia say those words. His cock jumps at the thought of it, thrusting two fingers into her. "Fuck me..." he groans. He wasn't sure if the idea of thinking about her every time he was in here was a good one or not, but right now, he couldn't think of anything he wanted more. Sebastian's cock jumped, imagining her on her knees with his cock in her mouth underneath his desk. "You want me inside you?" His hand raises, his thumb grazing her bottom lip to pry it open gently. "You gonna take my cock in your mouth?" His other hand moves faster, his finger reaching to get to that perfect spot that will make her squirm and cum fast. "I want you to cum for me first, baby," he says, pulling her closer. His mouth ghosts over hers as his thumb remains on her tongue, his cock leaking in his jeans. "Me encanta el sabor de tu coño. Por favor, baby." He says with a growl, quickening his pace. "Don't you want my cock?" He asked her, like she wasn't just begging and demanding him moments before.

His anger hasn't dissipated. Sebastian can feel sparks of his irritation come out as his grip hardens, his eyes rolling back as his mouth opens wider, taking more of her in. He loved that he was here. Even if he was angry and irritated as fuck with her, having his mouth on her like this and seeing how wet she was somehow made it all worth it. "Oh, you're so fucking wet," he groans, feeling her drip down his chin. He knew that she had truly won at this point. Sebastian had long forgotten why they hadn't been speaking for weeks, or why she had to seduce him to get him here in the first place. His tongue prods at her entrance, relaxing his jaw as he starts to fuck her open. He spreads her legs wide so she can see how good he's doing, his hungry gaze lifting momentarily for approval. She might be dripping for him, but Sebastian would always be looking for Cassia's approval.

She took another sip, then set the cup down on the counter behind her, leaning in just enough to drop her voice conspiratorially. “We’ll keep the rumor in our back pocket. Something outrageous but believable. Like you got married in Vegas last weekend or I’ve been scouted for a reality show about mechanics.” The deadpan delivery made it hard to tell if she was serious, though the flash in her eyes suggested she was already plotting.

Pushing off the wall, she nodded toward the door. “Change of scenery sounds about right. Sometimes the only way to shake things loose is to actually move.” She grabbed her jacket from the back of the chair and slid it on, the leather creaking faintly.

“Yours it is,” she said, already walking toward the exit with the kind of purposeful ease that said she was all in. “I’ll grab us a map from the counter on the way out, and we’ll just… see where we land.”

She glanced back over her shoulder, one brow raised. “Fair warning, though if we pass a roadside stand selling pie, I’m making us stop.”

Cassia was a lot less confidant than Elena was in their plan despite having spoken half of it into existence, but the ease in which the woman walked to the door made her ground herself. She'd accept whatever came.

The worse that could happen was that they'd end up in jail for something ridiculous, and while she didn't have a ton of money in her account, she had to believe there was enough in there to bail herself.

"Roadside pie? That sounds weirdly delicious. If there's one selling cowboy boots, then I'm in." A little more specific, unlikely to be found, but she still wanted a new pair so she may as well throw it out there.

Cassia clicked her key so her car lit up, moving to the driver side and jumping in when Elena returned with the map. "Ready?"

Her gaze lingers on Cassia for a second longer than necessary, something sharp and amused flickering behind her eyes. “But hey, I admire the confidence. It’s cute.”

She shifts her weight slightly, glancing down at the lock again before continuing. “And yeah, you can tell a lot just from the design, the way it sits, the brand, the wear. Some locks have these tiny manufacturing flaws that make them easier to manipulate. Others are just old and loud about it. It’s kind of like people, really. The ones who look solid on the outside sometimes have the softest spots, and the ones who pretend to be subtle usually scream their secrets if you press in the right place.”

Sonny pauses, then nods toward Cassia’s phone. “But seriously—write this down: tension is everything. Doesn’t matter how many picks you have or how fancy your tools are. If you don’t get the feel of the lock under your fingers, it won’t talk to you. And if it doesn’t talk, it doesn’t open.” Her tone slips briefly into something more serious—something that feels almost metaphorical if you let it.

Then, as quickly as it came, the moment eases again. She takes a breath, her smile softening again at the mention of the plants. “An Instagram for them? Damn. She’s serious. Alright, rule number one: don’t overwater. Most people kill plants with love, not neglect. Rule two: group the ones with similar needs together—it’s easier to remember what they like that way. And rule three—if it starts turning brown? Don’t panic. It’s just adjusting. New environment, new air. Give it time.”

Sonny tilts her head a little as she studies Cassia, her expression unreadable for a second before she speaks. “You’re not giving yourself enough credit. I mean—okay, sure, I’ve got a few fun party tricks, and yeah, I might’ve broken into a few places here and there. But you? You’re holding your ground. You’re curious. And you’re still here, even after all the weirdness.” She smiles, genuinely this time. “That’s not ‘not perfect,’ Cass. That’s just being real. And people like me, admire that.”

A beat passes, and then she adds with a sly grin, “But if we did go toe-to-toe… I dunno. I might’ve let you win. Just to see what you’d do with the victory.” A laugh escapes, before she pins Cassia with a curious stare. "You work at a bar, really? Which one?"

Her gaze moved back to the subject matter and she felt like she was learning science all over again. There were just some things she couldn't wrap her head around and how someone could learn things about lock, without being a professional theif, made no sense. "So like, you've read up about locks that much or is it purely from experience? Are you professional thief? Oh, not one of those girls who used to hit up Paris Hilton's house? Like that kind?"

At this point, she was pulling at straws but then she remembered the mention of a safe house and surely they weren't sophisticated to have that. She'd need to be stealing a lot more than a few designer bags and dresses. "Tension," she added to her notepad. And then 'talking????' with about seven question marks.

While the lock was a cause of concern purely because it seemed like an easy one to break into, the real thing that had her worried was what was living inside. If she didn't have any knowledge on locks, she had even less on most of the plants in that home. "Okay, so it's all about water or don't water. That feels simple."

As for the lights above each plant, she hadn't touched those and so far that had worked for her. As they re-entered the home, Cassia was taken aback by the fact that she was complimented for doing something that had felt stupid an hour ago. "Well, it wouldn't have been smart if you were actually here to kill me which I had convinced myself of about forty minutes ago. It was almost painful not to sprint to the door when you mentioned going out there— I was that freaked out."

Now it felt silly so she felt safe to admit it. "You probably would let me win. You may be able to murder me, you've got to have strong hands for lock picking so you'd win with the whole." She wrapped her hands around her throat and then let her head fall to mimic what she could do in a fight. "Yeah, I work at the rusty spur. You should come check it out. Bring a lock and show people your party trick."

It had been a few minutes at this point, and Sebastian and the customer had been to almost every aisle in the store. His excitement had settled, thank God, but he was anxious, thinking Cassia was stalking them like a Lion ready to jump and pounce on its prey. The sound of Sebastian's office door had a heavy sound to it, so when he heard it swing closed, he knew Cassia had chosen to wait for him there. He stood at the cashier's counter, wondering what she was looking through in his office as he waited for the customer to return with a different item they had picked out earlier.

He couldn't help but reciprocate, digging his fingers into her side, his eyes drinking her in. The sensation of her against him sent a shiver down his spine; the pout she wore and the look in her eye were both enticing. How badly he wanted to bend her over right then and there. She wasn’t making this easy. Lately, nothing seemed straightforward with her. He closed his eyes for a moment to compose himself. This was his workplace, and a customer was only aisles away. He needed to remain professional.

Sebastian restrained himself, but when she turned, he couldn’t help but close his eyes as he caught a whiff of her hair. "Maybe?" he scoffed, tilting his head. "I already said you won; isn’t that enough?" He leaned in closer, his gaze primal and stern. "Don’t get greedy." Though his tone wasn’t mean, Sebastian’s look made it clear that he would be uninterested if there were any other misunderstandings. His expression was angry, but beneath it all, he felt hurt and confused, experiencing all these emotions at once.

Sebastian took hold of the cat food, stepping back towards the other aisle. He exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he tried to shake off his growing erection before helping the older woman finish her to-do list. He knows he's risking Cassia possibly getting pissed off for not playing with her some more, but Sebastian takes his workplace seriously. He wasn't a vet, not like the one she remembered praising he would be. It took him a long time to come to terms with a life like this.

Cassia slowly moved around the store, ensuring that she remain hidden and out of the way of the client and Sebastian until she found what she was looking for. His office. Slowly, she opened the door and looked inside before carefully closing it behind her. Her finger dragged across his desk, wandering around before she pilled up the paperwork and other items so they were out of the way.

When it was clear of items and she knew she wasn't going to make a mess by hoisting herself up on its surface, she sat in direction of the door and pulled her phone from her pocket. The camera was pointed towards her thighs, parted, skirt hiked up just enough not to show anything but still make it clear her intent and where he could find her as the dark coloured desk was clearly visible beneath her.

'If you needed another reason to close up early,' was the text that followed the picture.

“Okay so, this here is a decent lock and one of the more common ones,” she murmurs, voice calm but edged with that unmistakable undercurrent of thrill she gets when peeling apart something so complicated. “Your friend’s got some faith in her security systems. But, I'd always recommend getting a camera too, just in case.”

She glances up, a slow smile playing on her lips, clearly amused. “Ready to take notes?” She pulls a slender pick from her bag again, holding it up like a magician revealing a trick.

Sonny’s eyes flick to Cassia's, her tone softer now but still teasing. “You really think the neck tattoo thing’s some kind of uniform though? You’re giving our line of work a lot more flair than it usually has. Most of us just blend in—boring jeans, worn boots, and a whole lot of ‘don’t notice me’ energy.” She taps the pick against the lock lightly. “But if you want me to prove I’m not here to kill you,” she says with a sly grin, “let me show you how this dance goes.”

Her fingers move with precision, the lock’s tumblers clicking one by one under her skilled touch. “And hey, about your plant-sitting stress,” she adds, glancing up briefly, “if you want, I can give you some tips on keeping those jungle babies alive without losing your mind. Consider it part of the ‘break-and-entering’ package. Fair warning—my green thumb’s maybe my softest secret.”

The lock gives a final satisfying click, and Sonny stands smoothly, straightening as she steps back with a victorious smirk. “See? Nothing but respect, no knives or danger. Just a girl who knows how to unlock more than just doors.” She winks, folding the tools back into her bag.

Her smile softens, the moment between them settling into something less electric, more genuine. “You’re doing better than you think, Cass. If you can survive a plant jungle and keep that lock on lockdown, you’re tougher than most. But, it's good that you're apprehensive and suspicious. Everyone should be. It's how you remain alert and ultimately protect yourself. Which us, girls, always have to do.”

She crouched down and peered at the lock, unsure how one could tell whether a lock was one of the popular ones or one that provided a bit more security. "And you know this how? Because of the make and brand?" Perhaps there was some other kind of tell like there was a wider gap or the material of the lock.

"Camera and maybe a new lock— got it." She'd at least let her know that her lock was on the easier side to break into.

She took her phone out and pulled up a note pad so she could take some notes. At least she could refer to it later if she had to go through this scenario again. But god did she hope not.

"I mean, it's kind of a badge or something, isn't it? I assume that like the gang or orginazation makes them do it once they're in?" Maybe she didn't know what the hell she was talking about but it seemed like she was going to learn more and Cassia was all for being in the know, especially from someone who was directly involved.

She paused and looked her over for a second, wondering who the hell this woman was. Clearly she had a job that had her leaving for a safe house— which she assumed could be weeks at a time— so she wondered how the hell she managed to keep any plants alive with that sort of impromptu schedule. "I'm all for tips and tricks for those plants because I swear I saw a leaf turn brown and I almost had a mental breakdown. She adores those plants. They have their own instagram."

At the way the door went click, she furrowed her brow because that seemed like the easiest thing. "I mean, that's impressive. A girl who can break in and save plants. You're just perfect, aren't you? Everything I'm not."

Cassia teased as she stood and cleaned herself off. "I work at a bar and that's kind of taught me that most people have ulterior motives." A lot of men she'd chatted up were impressive at the start of the conversation but usually ended up being assholes once they realized she wasn't going to bring them home.

"I feel like I could have taken you though. I mean, if you were sent to kill me." Cassia teased with a wink.

Benny raised his eyebrows and opened his eyes as he realized that Holly wasn’t getting off, but he was...? Tilting his head, he made a face that reflected his confusion, unsure of what to make of her words until she explained exactly what she meant.

“Holls…” he sighed, a soft groan escaping his lips. Despite his initial discomfort, a spark of gratitude flickered within him for her gesture. Benny acknowledged that he had scarcely shared anything with Holly since she had so boldly encouraged him to confront his feelings for Leyla. In the grand scheme of things, it seemed only fitting that Holly, the mastermind behind his brave leap, should be the first to hear about the outcomes of her efforts. Could he truly fault her for nudging him into that blind date?

Benny tilted his head once more, his tongue brushing against his lips as he contemplated the prospect of spending the evening with someone new. He would have to have a more in-depth, updated conversation with Holly later.

Holly doesn’t have to put much effort into convincing him, but when she describes this person as both fun-loving and hot—someone who seems right up Benny's "alley"—he finds himself nodding along and ultimately giving in. After all, he hasn’t been out in ages; what could it hurt to do something different for a change?

Her name doesn't immediately alert him as Holly calls it out, but when he turns to catch a glimpse of the woman his cousin is talking about, recognition hits him like a bolt of lightning. He remembers her instantly.

With her hand outstretched toward the person beside him, Benny raises an eyebrow, a curious grin spreading across his lips as he finds himself face to face with Cassia. The moment their eyes meet, he can see the flicker of recognition light up her expression. Cassia is quick to react, nearly exclaiming in surprise as she realizes who he is.

Benny shifts his gaze playfully between Cassia and Holly, resting his elbows comfortably on the polished counter, exuding a relaxed confidence. “No,” he replies, a chuckle escaping his lips. “Would you like to tell her?” His smile is teasing, a lighthearted nod to their first encounter when she had unexpectedly used him.

Holly blinked, momentarily thrown by the flicker of recognition between the two. Her blue eyes bounced from Cassia to Benny like she was watching a tennis match, processing their shared surprise with a mixture of curiosity and delight. “Wait… wait,” she said, leaning on the bar with both palms flat against the counter. “You two already know each other?” Her brows arched in surprise, but the amused smirk on her lips only confirmed just how pleased she was with herself. She hadn’t accounted for history when she’d set them up, but it didn’t seem like bad history—and if anything, the spark she saw flicker between them now made her even more smug about her matchmaking instincts.

Although she was dying to know the backstory, Holly couldn’t help the way her heart did a little victory dance. Not only had she managed to get Benny out after months of wallowing, but she’d unknowingly set him up with someone he already had chemistry with. “Okay, well now I’m even more confident about this,” Holly stated, before turning to pour them each a shot of tequila to start the date off right. "Besides, this should help to take the edge off."

"We were paired together for the easter thing. You know, with the baskets." She stood there, still reeling about the fact that the date she'd been so eager to attend was with him. Was he even interested? He hadn't really participated or returned any kind of attention when she'd laid the flirting on him.

It was as a means to make her ex jealous— but still. If he'd been interested, then he should have done something.

"Did you know this was going on?" She asked Benny and then peered at Holly for some kind of confirmation. "This whole blind date thing because you didn't seem interested when we were doing our easter thing and if you're dating then I've got to assume that the issue was me."

@bellstrom

Perhaps it was reckless to challenge her like that, but Sebastian was all too aware that Cassia was not the type to shy away from a confrontation. He could see the spark in her eyes, the way her gaze sharpened as she pondered how to push herself further and mend the hurt he had laid bare. Then, she stepped closer, her delicate fingers wrapping around his forearm, pulling him in as she leaned forward with an almost predatory grace.

Sebastian felt himself grow tense, a wave of anticipation coursing through him as he watched her. His chest tightened, awareness flickering to life as he began to grasp what she was doing. “Oh, fuck you,” he groaned, an exasperated sigh escaping his lips as he rolled his eyes, but the act was half-hearted. He was struck speechless as she let the pink lacy fabric slide down from her ankles, the delicate material pooling at her feet. His breath turned unsteady, and he instinctively lifted his chin, attempting to create some distance between them, yet the pull of the moment made it almost impossible to step away.

He nearly missed the delightful chime of the bell ringing at the front of the store as Cassia invaded his personal space, her warm body pressing against him while her breath danced teasingly along the nape of his neck. When she posed her question, a sharp sigh escaped him, and he shook his head, acutely aware of her fingers burrowing into his front pocket. “Fuck you,” he murmured, his voice softer now, his brows furrowing as he relished the feeling of her hand in his pocket. He almost reached out to embrace her, but instead, his fingers only grazed the tips of her hair as she spun away from him, a playful smile brightening her face.

A soft, incredulous laugh slipped from his lips as he observed her effortlessly shift her attention to the next customer who entered the store, already at ease, charming and attentive.

Yeah, she was insane.

As Sebastian finally calms down enough to start walking around the store, he turns a corner and sees Cassia tending to a stranger. He notes with relief that the woman is not someone he recognizes, as he dreads the thought of explaining who Cassia is to any regulars who might be too nosy. He approaches them slowly and greets the older woman with a professional nod, positioning himself like a manager overseeing a new employee.

As the older woman begins explaining her needs, he notices Cassia searching for a pen, despite the numerous ones lying just beneath the desk. He raises an eyebrow but soon realizes she’s eyeing one on the floor. When she bends over to pick it up, Sebastian feels a dryness in his throat at the sight. He quickly looks away as the older woman continues speaking and walks off, wandering towards various displays around them. Once she is out of earshot, he turns back, catching Cassia’s gaze. The innocent look in her eyes stirs a possessiveness within him that has been dormant for weeks.

The idea that she was getting to him was intoxicating and she was reminded of how much power she truly held when it came to him. As if she hadn't fawned the flames of temptation enough, she moves to the tight quarters of the cat aisle and tauntes him further with her short skirt. At least until he tugs it down and brings her closerto him in a dominant way that both surprises and stirs something inside of her. She's witnessed this possessive and dominant side before but forgot how attractive it was when he allowed it to surface.

"I won that easily?" She whines as she deliberately leans into him, ensuring that she press against the front of his pants to make it that it torments him more than the image of what lay beneath her skirt.

"You want me to try harder and now you want me to be tamer? Where's the fun in behaving?" Her gaze finds his over her shoulder, pouting at him to indicate her displeasure. The dilemma was that the quicker she listened, the sooner she'd be rewarded with what she wanted, but the more she halted them, perhaps it could make or break this whole evening. On one hand, she could push him just far enough that he'd grab, kiss, pull her just a little harder. But there was a fine line between sexual frustration and annoyance.

"Maybe you need to give me a reason to behave." Cassia places the bag of cat food over one of the ones at waist level and turns in Sebastian's arms so she's facing him, keen on not allowing the proximity to control her. "Maybe I'll consider it then."

Maybe.

At the mention of celebrating, her smile shifted a touch, more thoughtful. “She’d roll her eyes at a big deal,” she said. “Which means I’ll probably show up with takeout and force her to eat cake anyway. That’s my version of subtle.”

Then she saw it—that flicker just behind Cassia’s eyes. Not sadness exactly, but the wear of someone navigating uneven ground. Elena didn’t press. She never did. But she made space for it in the way she always did—quietly, without expectation.

At Cassia’s question, Elena let the moment stretch, her brow arching slightly as she leaned her shoulder back against the wall again. “Well,” she started, lifting her matcha for another sip, “we could do something reckless. Walk out of here and get tattoos. Call your ex, my ex, whoever, and leave a wildly confusing voicemail. Start a rumor and see how far it spreads by noon.”

She grinned, but it was soft, an undercurrent of sincerity beneath the teasing. “Or—hear me out—we finish our drinks, pick up something to-go, and just drive. Windows down. Music on. No plans, no explanations. Just the road and the fact that it’s a decent morning.”

She paused, “I am also not against just grabbing a table outside and giving you the floor to talk, or not talk, about whatever it is you’re avoiding.”

"I'm all down for doing something wreckless." She needed that sort of excitement in her life these days. With finding out that Sebastian was now in town and the pair fucking every chance they got, it would be nice to have another sort of excitement that didn't revolve around doing something that would likely blow up in her face.

"Tattoos is interesting but I think I'd lean more towards something that isn't so permanent." Meaning she would put that one in the backburner and choose to focus on the calls and the rumor. "We can do a bit of both. Call them under the guise of something we heard that is completely fabricated."

Her head tilted at the second option. It sounded peaceful and there was something almost therapeutic about that option. Windows down, coffee in hand, open road in front of them. "Actually, maybe we play it safe and go with the open road and if we get bored, we can always make a call when we stop somewhere." They'd play it by hear.

" I think I need a change of scenary and who knows where that'll bring us." Some motel, a market on the side of the road, in some bar outside of town.

Not knowing was the fun of it. "Let's take mine. The tank is full."

Sebastian struggled to maintain his composure, his heart racing in a way that felt almost unbearable. Thankfully, his back was turned to her, allowing him a moment of truce as he mentally berated himself for being so stubborn. He closed his eyes, the vivid image of her proximity sending a rush of heat through him, nearly making his knees give way. It was tormenting how deeply he craved her, and even more excruciating was the undeniable way she expressed her desire for him. He couldn't decide what was more cruel.

His eyes opened at the sound of her voice, and he listened with rapt attention as she continued speaking. His expression shifted, eyebrows arching in curiosity at her words. The notion of her making amends was undeniably appealing; he couldn't deny that. Yet, with each additional suggestion she made, a simmering anger began to bubble within him. He finally turned away, his brows knitting together in frustration, his hand forming a tight fist around the neck of a plush stingray, its soft fabric pressing against his skin.

"Are you insane?" he wanted to know, genuinely. Yet, he felt a flicker of annoyance at how nice the word 'coparent' sounded coming from her lips. It wasn't at all what he had hoped for, but her gesture felt like a sign of commitment. Sebastian knew he was grasping at straws, yet there she was, offering them so generously. He considered himself a weak man, and the longer he gazed into her eyes and stared at her pouty lips, the more he realized it would only be a matter of time before he succumbed to her every word.

Her gaze fixes on him when he demands more from her. A better speech, perhaps more effort, something different than what she's given him in the small section of the pet store and she's left wondering if he's worth it. Whether she has it in her. Cassia's gaze fixes on his in order to determine what direction he was looking for, and which route would provide a shorter detour to the goal she'd set today. Which, frankly, was to get back to where they were a week ago. Nothing less, nothing more.

One she naively thought would be easier.

In the end, she knows, the fastest route to that goal was to play at his weakness. A weakness he still possesses given the ease in which they'd fallen into bed after meeting the first time. "Try harder," she echoes with a nod of her head, already set on the plan she conjured. Her gaze fixes on him, ensuring he stays anchored to every one of her movements since she's determined to have them be seared into his head for days to come. She leans forward to curl her hand around his forearm for stability while she reaches beneath her skirt and begins to pull her underwear down. A part of a matching pink lingerie set she has underneath, one she chosen with him in mind, and how the color looks against her complexion. She lifts a foot at a time, her coquettish grin only growing when she dangles it from her finger long enough to be taken in but quickly bunches it when the familiar ding signalling a new client echoes through the store.

Right on time.

Cassia doesn't immediately look at the door, but rather invades his space with a step forward, her hand sliding into his pocket to nestle the piece of fabric there. "Can you keep that safe for me?" Her lips deliberately graze his ear, close enough that her shampoo and body mist will infiltrate his senses— but she is quick to turn from him in order to leave him wanting more.

More importantly, so he can watch. She imagines it reminds him of the last time they saw each other but the one difference being that she isn't set on doing something to him, but rather for him. "Hello, Welcome to Happy tails. How can I help you?" Cassia greets the older woman, deciding to play assistant. He said four hours but she was banking on the closure of the store to be a lot sooner than that after this.

Sebastian rolled his eyes at Cassia’s various defenses, each one eliciting an involuntary grimace as he faced away from her, feeling her presence trailing closely behind. A small part of him relished her persistence; her playful insistence for his attention ignited a warmth he hadn't felt in years. Despite his irritation, he found himself softening, the sound of her voice weaving a familiar comfort around him.

They reached their destination just as the word "babe" floated from Cassia’s lips, catching Sebastian off guard. It had been ages since he had heard that term of endearment, and though irritation still simmered beneath the surface, a surge of nostalgia washed over him. Her admission that she had missed him struck a chord deep within, pushing back the anger that had threatened to bubble over.

With his back still turned, cradling a handful of items, he paused to collect his thoughts, the weight of the moment settling uncomfortably around him. He had constructed a steadfast narrative about what had transpired at the Spring Fling, but Cassia’s voice—laced with longing and vulnerability—made him doubt his own perceptions. As uncertainty swirled in his mind, he began to wonder if perhaps he was misconstruing everything, lost in a tangled web of emotions.

He finally turns around, cradling a soft, plush toy in his hand, his gaze ensnared by hers. Their eyes lock in a prolonged stare, and Sebastian is searching for a glimmer of sincerity within her depths. Did she truly miss him? Leaning in a fraction closer, he takes a deliberate step forward, raising his hand to gently place the dog toy into the bin nestled behind Cassia's head. He leaves his hand resting there for support, his unwavering eyes still fixed on her. In that moment, he can read the truth in her expression. She will never confess to intentionally provoking his jealousy.

The truth is that she hopes he closes the space and throws caution to the wind. In fact, she almost shifts forward to meet him halfway, except the slight movement of his body ends with him being further away from her and she feels her heart drop at the fact that he had, in fact, seen the desire she holds for him in the way her mouth parted, gaze flicked to his mouth.

Despite the distance, time away, Cassia hadn't ever met someone who was able to pull emotion from her so effortlessly. Need, desire, fear— love.

It frightened her, and despite every fibre of her being wanting to tear herself away in order to protect herself, she couldn't.

She was hooked.

Cassia allows her breath to escape her lungs and stays still for a moment before his questions pulls her back to the current moment. "I don't want you to be upset with me or to avoid me." She tells him as she shifts to block off the way they'd just come from in fear that he would try to walk away from her again.

"I want to make it up to you. Come with me. I've got some things planned. You can close up early, there isn't anyone in here. Maybe by the end of it, you'll even think differently of me as a fish owner. If you don't, we'll co-parent."

There was a slight tease, though now she felt like owning a pet fish was almost needed just to prove him wrong. After a few beats, she peered back towards him and met his gaze.