h u r r i c a n e

Over the years, Sawyer had lost more than enough of those he considered friends, whether they were hunters or not. But Elijah had been the first family member he had ever lost, and it had hit him harder than he’d ever realized it would. They were raised knowing that at any moment they could lose a battle with a supernatural, they’d been preparing for it since they were boys. But nothing could truly prepare someone for a loss like that. “Doin’ something right?” An audible scoff was the response to his own questioned words, Sawyer giving a quick shake of his head. “You’ve been sittin’ cozy, with your little ragged pack. But I’m about to change all that.” Because like her, Sawyer didn’t just stop when he pushed the wrong buttons, he continued forward with whatever he had set in his mind. And putting a bullet in the mutt that had killed his brother was currently the singular thing set in his mind. But as she spoke of Elijah, the temper that Sawyer so often lost control over seemed to snap. A quick hand pulled the gun tucked away out into the night, bringing it closer until the muzzle nestled right beneath her chin. “The only reason I’m not pulling this trigger right now is because you and I both know you’re hardly capable of it. You talk a big game, Cassie; but the only murder you’re capable of is an accidental one. I’ve been patient, but if you don’t start talkin’ soon, I promise I’ll tear your entire pack apart.” 

“Cozier than you’ve been, you mean?” A sharpened jab at his loss, something he so clearly hadn’t yet grown used to -- something that would likely find a way to paint itself repetitive eventfully. All hunters came to the same conclusion before it drove them mad; if they were lucky. However, unlike them, Cassie had lived through many a hunter with the same claim to vengeance as the man before her. She wasn’t innocent by any means, not much of a murderer, but she sure as hell had enough blood on her hands to contrast his doubt. Like a spark of flame, it flickered in his eyes and she almost smiled as he snapped beneath the pressure of her taunting. Her head canted to the side slightly with the cool metal of his weapon pressing in against her jaw, the corner of her lips twitching a hint of a smile as she sucked in a slow breath. “The only reason you’re not pulling that trigger is because you don’t know what to believe.” She spoke with an air of challenge to her voice, “I guess you’ll just have to figure out if I’m lying or not on your own, shouldn’t be too hard, right .-- there’s only.. dozens of us.”

Xander stood up, moving closer to Cassandra and crowding against where she sat, “Listen, Cass,” he drawled slightly on her name, meeting her gaze as he put his arms on either side of her, “Wolves are dropping like flies around here, you know. But I think the greatest sense of revenge would be if a Debonair wolf was compelled to take action against their own kind. Wouldn’t that be a sight?”

Canting her head back just enough to keep hues on his, a manicured brow lifted as he pressed in on her personal space, not that she’d ever held much sense for it anyway. “Remind me when we weren’t dropping like flies? This isn’t new -- your brother is just more dramatic than most. Clearly.” She huffed out an less than amused laugh, “Revenge? Now what’re you looking for revenge for? Plus -- my sister already had her heart ripped out, if you were looking for poetic -- you’re a little behind.”

Henrik watched as she stormed into the kitchen behind him, with a pleased smile on his face. “Nice outfit, where’d you get it from?” He teased. Henrik didn’t mind that she took one of his shirts, he was used to it and he had plenty in any case. “Well that’s shirt number three you’re taking with you, so I guess we’re even.” Henrik flips the switch for the coffee machine which starts to whizz and produce his sustenance for the morning, “I’d offer you some, but you look like you’re late for your walk of shame.” He sips from the cup, “Bye, Cassie. This time next week again?” He smirks.

“Some skank.” She shot off rather quickly, scooping up her shoes with little effort. Catching her own reflection she mused with her hair a little, wiping smudged make up as if she’d looked all that terrible to begin with. “Yeah bullshit, those dresses all cost three times as much as your shirts do, you’re not getting out of it that easily.” The smell of coffee wafted through the room and it perked her up a little more, uncaring of whether he intended to offer her any, she’d take it anyway. “Oh, Henrik, baby --- I’m too shallow to feel shame, but nice try.” She shoved past him, snagging his cup from him, hot and steaming before he could complain. “Yeah.. --- I’d rather choke.”

“Again, who said I died? When this curse is broken, I’ll have the last laugh.” Xander sat down on said coffin couch, leaning back as he glanced at the blonde. “I like it there, actually. Besides,” he put his hands behind his head, looking at Cassandra, “I could have you dead before you could even make it out the door. Should I drop a body today, too? I don’t like you that much.”

“And I told you, it’s all the same shit. You’ll have the last laugh either way, you’re a fucking fossil, Xan.” Perching herself atop the edge of a non-coffin shaped chair, Cassie drew fingers through her hair lazily, “Oh boo, I’m terrifying, truly -- plus, if you kill me, who in this town is going to put up with your shit so readily? Hm? You don’t have to like me that much to know this place would be a shade duller without me. Don’t worry, you don’t have to admit it, wouldn’t want to taint that reputation of yours with a compliment.”

 “I think you’ve already tried,” Henrik says, pointing at the blotch of red on his neck, “– jeez, it’s like you’re trying to mark territory with hickeys.”  A flicker of amusement rises in his eyes as he awaited her quips. He slowly shuffles out of bed and heads towards the door, “Fine. Still it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” He unlatches the handle only find said dress underneath his feet. Henrik picks it up and examines it, “You might want to actually rip my trachea out now…” A small chuckle escapes his lips, “– I think I may have ripped your dress off of you last night.” He chucks the dress at Cassie, “– but there you go, get dressed.” Henrik says, leaving the room with the door wide open.

“Clearly I didn’t try hard enough,” a real enough threat considering the feat of strength the petite blonde held within her, “Oh like you can talk.” Pinning him with a glare she pulled back the sheet to bare her thigh, marks left behind by hands much bigger than hers mottling purple against porcelain skin. Anyone else, it could have been literally anyone else and they’d never have heard a glimmer of complaint in marks left behind. “No, but if I choose to let you see everything while I’m in a good state of mind and aware that you’re still you, I can’t very well go on ignoring that I ended up here, again.” The grimace that rocked her voice not at all lost, Cassie momentarily grateful when she saw her dress in his hands, “Asshole..” Letting the piece of clothing fall, finding no sense with it torn; knowing him it was beyond trying to wear, she slipped from the bed to snag a shirt from his drawer. Much too big for her, but just long enough to suffice until she got home. Throwing it on, she followed him out, making a beeline for a discarded bottle not yet empty, “That’s three new dresses you owe me now, don’t think I’m not keeping count.”

          “I don’t fucking know what I think!” Fletcher virtually yelled back at the blonde. And the truth was he didn’t, sure he knew Cassandra certainly wasn’t the virgin Mary, but then again neither was he. But that was completely beside the point. “Oh I’m the asshole, now that’s just cute.” He added, lips twitching into a smirk despite the storm that raged on in his eyes. “Get it into you’re thick fucking skull Cassie, I’ll always look out for you. That’s what friends do the last time I checked.” Were they though, friends that was. “You know what your problem is, you can’t get over the fucking past. Every mother fucking opportunity you take to pick away at the past, hell you obsess over it even. It’s like you think that if you try hard enough you’ll be able to change it in some way – but newsflash Cass, you can’t. So yes I left, so fucking what, I came back, and still you hold it against me. Like a bloody dog with a bone, just give it a rest already!” The male was tired of the constant reminder, sure he had left perhaps not on the best of terms with her but his actions had been for the right reasons, with good intentions which for Fletcher Swan was a rare occurrence. Though before he could make his next remark, his back impacted hard against the brick wall behind the pair. A cough surpassed his lips as she shock of the sudden movement wore off. Instinctively he pushed off the wall, moving to once again stand over her as he spoke, this time his voice was quiet. “If I’m such a problem, then walk away Cass. Go on, leave.” It wasn’t what he wanted to say, he wanted to tell her he was her problem and there was no way of getting rid of him. But the damage had already been caused judging by the look on her delicate features. 

“No, but if you like you can get back out and I’ll go find one.” Pfft, another Prius hater. How dare she? “Apologise or I’m not putting my foot on the gas again and I’m letting the Housewife of East End, have you all to yourself. You know, I’m sure you’d look great with one of those french bobs the soccer moms like so much, or hey maybe she’ll just take it all —” He laughed, god this was so good. Definitely worth for-going his Chunky Monkey challenge in order to drive all the way over here. The idea of Cassandra, being attacked by manicure scissors, a picture he wouldn’t have been able to think up just on his own, so he’d need to thank her for that later. “Ew, yeah, no. Can we not talk about your weird fetish for older men, thanks?” Abs or no abs, Nik did not want to hear her talk about that. “Yeah, to get inside… I didn’t actually have a pizza. What did you think I picked up pizza on the drive over?” Would she make up her mind? Had she wanted him here fast and pizza-less or slow and pizza filled? “Nah, but we can pick one up on the way back to mine if you want.” Seemed fair. She had done a damn marathon before. If the olympics had a Wife-Escaping event, he’d be dishing out the Silver. What? She hadn’t completely landed that landing of her’s and her dress was still hanging loose. No way, could he give he perfect ten for that. “Here…” He reached over doing the zipper of her dress up for her, “you look less – ragged now.” 

Really? She’d actually help him with both? Well, color him purple! “Good, because I’ve only got the outside edges done so far, “it’s going to take a few hours for sure.” 

“Oh shit…” Watching as, who he assumed was the wife, make a beeline for his car, Nik floored it. Sending loose gravel practically everywhere across the manicured lawn, as he did. Hands on the wheel, Nik sped out of there and just managed to make it through the gates before they closed. Still speeding along, Nik let out a whole hearted laugh, “Baby Driver, eat your heart out!” 

Flipping his phone over to her, now that they were out of any immediate ‘manicure’ wielding housewife danger, “here… and yes, I would prefer if we stayed friends.” He didn’t think that was naive. Mavis, was great and he knew, she wouldn’t be petty like that. Maybe a little confused and upset at first, but definitely not angry. “Here, start off with telling her how much I appreciated the other night… I don’t want her to think she was bad in bed. This is about more than that…” No, the sex had been great, Nik just needed to stop messing around with the brunette, when he knew now he couldn’t ever feel for her what he was starting to feel with Harper. 

Catching sight of a drug store, Nik without much warning ripped the steering wheel around, parking out front as he wordlessly got out and ran inside. It wasn’t long till he was back up and throwing a small plastic bag at her. “I got some antiseptic and a bandage for… that.” It looked pretty bad. Grazes were an actual bitch and Nik, could remember them well when he’d lived in Minnesota, “okay, have you started the message yet? Don’t send anything until I approve it.” 

Doe eyes narrowed promptly at his attempt to drawn an apology out of her, like she’d bend to the kind of manipulation that might have stemmed from something so menial in the first place. “Oh bite me, I’ll walk.” The challenging tone left her curious at to whether he’d be willing enough to leave her there, fingers lifting to entwine the door handle where they’d likely stay until she could determine what he’d actually do. “What? You definitely should have brought pizza, what kind of rescue mission is this? I was totally sure you had the whole white knight bullshit thing going on -- but you forgot the pizza.” A long winding groan fell from lips curved much too high to mirror the seriousness her tone of voice held. She still wasn’t entirely sure what to think about Nik, though she grew certain that by pushing button by button, she’d figure it out. So far, all she knew was that he did indeed, have a complex, their first time meeting at the festival of all things more than a neon sign in that direction, and this really was icing on the cake. “Sweet, you’re paying --- I want extra cheese.” Defiantly, she let go of the door handle, the prospect of pizza giving way to how much she cared in that moment whether the woman caught up or not. A little more content within the darkened confines of the car, she hadn’t expected his hand to brush across her back as he reached for the zipper, “what’re you..-- oh.. Less ragged, excuse me?” The sharpened pull he made at the steering wheel and the screech of tires dull against the quick snap of her forehead against the window, “Jesus Christ.” It exploded against a rough laugh blossoming on her lips, Cassie only moments after peering from the window to see the woman very clearly still screaming; god knows what she had to say, she didn’t care.  Rubbing at her skull, fingers tapped out a methodical and hapless tune against the screen of his phone after he’d handed it over. Still wanted to be friends -- well that’s not healthy. At least, she didn’t think so. “Wait, wait, wait ..-- you slept with her? oh..- boy.” The semblance of a snicker left enough to the imagination of what she thought of his intentions to remain on good terms. “She’s going to think the worst of this no matter how it goes, you do know that, don’t you?” Not that she cared, the simple shrug of her shoulders as she scrolled through previous messages between the two, barely noticing as he pulled up in front of the drug store.  The cool plastic against her skin a stark contrast to her usual high temperature pulled her from her hazed state of concentration, Cassie only moments before hand having sent a rather.. suggestive photograph from her snapchat camera roll to his, with every intention of resending it to his girlfriend with little more than a rather typical text following it. This... this one kills me. Wait up for me, i’ll be there soon, do not take that off without me... “You wh..--” Darkened hues cast down at the bag and she frowned, “You didn’t have to do that.” It seemed..-- too much, at least for her it did. “You didn’t say anything about your approval..” Locking his phone, she lent back in the passenger seat, tossing it back to him, “You’re a free man, unless she’s fucking insane.”

The fact that the gift of flowers seemed to annoy Cassandra was a job well done in Cayden’s book. “Damn well better. Put them on display. Front and center.” He said as he handed the flowers over and shut the door behind him. “I mean…that really doesn’t sound like something to be proud of, but if you are, good for you.” 

He went straight for the fridge, because surely she had something in there worth drinking. “So what’s your plans for tonight? Going out to celebrate your not-such-a-victory victory, or you staying indoors like everyone else? Murder shakes these people. It’s sad.”

The snort that split her features with a brightened grin was anything but delicate, Cassie well beyond trying her luck at anything proper despite nabbing the title of Miss East End, “Bend over and cough then, sweetcheeks.” Canting her head she cast a dramatic wink up at him, fingers subconsciously wrapping around the flowers as the door closed. “Oh please, you should damn well be proud of anything and everything you can be, too many people are trying to take it all from you, so why the hell not?” Not that she’d ever allow anyone the ability to openly make her feel like shit. “Grab me a beer!” She called out, flowers left to lie across the worn coffee table as she fell into the couch, “And don’t go upstairs, that storm a while back ripped a hole in my roof and it may or may not cave in and kill us at any moment. -- Stay in? You crazy?” She cut an amused glance across the top of the couch, “It never takes much, you’d think a place like this would drive all the pussies out.”

               “What the fuck else did you expect me to do? You were already a fucking wager, Cassandra. I just stepped in to make sure you weren’t screwed over, but still I’m the asshole for looking out for you, huh.” The male returned, steady hues narrowing in the blondes direction as he started back at her. That was the thing about these two, when it was going good it was fantastic, but when it turned bad it had the potential to be catastrophic. Two big personalities colliding together would never result in anything good. “That’s how it comes across, you’ve always been so fucking blind-sighted by the attention that you never stopped to see what was right in front of you.“ He seethed, arms folding somewhat defensively over his chest as he spoke. “Oh so now you’re in the mood for not finishing your sentences, how predictable. So go on — finish that fucking sentence, I dare you.” Tongue sharp, he couldn’t help but laugh as she moved to leave. “Cassandra ‘runaway from her problems’ Debonair, ladies and gentlemen.”

“I talk a big game?” If he weren’t so full of anger, Sawyer may have laughed at her words. “Your little pack has been hiding in this town. A shit ton of flea bitten mutts that need to be put down. What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done, huh? A fire?” The smirk fought through the anger and pain as he so easily brought up her past.

So, a Prius might not have been the getaway car of choice for most drivers, but Nik knew she had more power under the hood than most would give her credit for. Keys dangling from the ignition; where they hit his knee every two seconds (a crime for his #blessed height), Nik kept his eyes on the road, as Siri sung the directions out to him. Was he surprised that he’d be spending a Wednesday night, driving into the ‘fancy’ part of East End, in order to save a girl he wouldn’t even call a friend? No, he was not. Turns out, as much as he hated to admit it, the girl was more fun than she was mean. And, Nik liked fun. Even if that meant saving her from some crazy Real Housewife of East End. As for that ‘friend’ part of the deal, well she still needed to butter him up a little more, before he handed that title out to her. He wasn’t easy. Unlike…

His phone ‘pinged’, as another message made its way through, he knew it had to be Cass, wondering where the fuck he was right now, but he couldn’t reply — he was driving. Holy shit, though, these houses were ginormous! Scanning the street for the number, Nik kept getting distracted by looming hedges, and gates that would be almost impossible to climb now that he was still on the mend. Fortunately though, she was in luck, because Nik was good at talking his way and his way out of situations. Ringing the bell to the gate, Nik cleared his throat, “I’ve got a pizza— what do you mean, you didn’t order a pizza. Look, brah, I need to drop this off before my boss wrings my neck. Do you have a daughter…. sounds really ‘sweet’, yeah, that’s the one, she wanted the pepperoni.” Bingo. Apparently the guy was thinking pizza might make it up to the blonde that was currently making her escape on the top of his roof — well, fuck. Slamming his foot down onto the gas, Nik did his best to catch up to her, dropping the window down in order to tell her, “slow down? I thought you called for a Getaway driver?” He did slow down though, almost coming to a complete stop altogether, when she started to climb through the window he’d just let down. If he hadn’t just had her shoes hit him square in the chest; Ow, he probably would have let out an amused laugh.

Of course, ‘go’ he did not. Instead leaning over his seat and reminding Cassandra of her manners once more, “thank you, Nik! How, I appreciate you coming to save my ass, from angry women whose wrinkly husbands I seem to have a serious complex over. Aw thanks, Cass. You’re welcome. No trouble in the absolute slightest…” Which, okay wasn’t as sarcastic as Nik, would have like it to be. Truth, was the moment he got Cass’ desperate SOS, he’d been in the middle of watching Chunky Monkey videos on YouTube, and performing one of his own. This was definitely most exciting thing he’d done all night. “So…, because I’m doing you a favor, that means you need to do me one. You can either help me finish a 5000 piece puzzle; called the wheat field, or you can help compose a break up text with me…” He needed to break things off with Mavis, but he still wasn’t sure how to word it, and besides Cass was a girl. This was probably a field of expertise for her. 

“Clearly you never got the memo, driving miss daisy.” She scoffed roughly as he came to a stop beside her, Cassie only pausing long enough in her hurried steps to throw her hands up in gesture of his choice of vehicle, “what..-- the fucking scooter was out of commission?” Flinging her shoes into the car with little care for where they landed, she pulled at the strap of her dress to prop it back against her shoulder in a huff, forgoing her seatbelt -- what was the point when they’d remained stopped.. A perfectly manicured brow arched high as she tucked her legs up beneath her and he lent towards her a little. Rolling her eyes roughly she groaned, childlike, she knew, but god if he wasn’t fucking annoying. “Listen you spud, if I weren’t about to be butchered with manicure scissors, I might have completely forgone messaging you at all, so how about you get me out of here before she comes storming out here and then I’ll think about thanking you. --- Also, for the record, he’s far from wrinkly. I’m convinced those abs were carved from diamond, and before you even think it; his jewels weren’t much different..” Despite her sharpened tone, Cassie shot a bright grin across the inside of the car at him, reaching out to flick his nose. “Come on, Toretto. It’s life or death here..--- did you say something about pizza?” The thought of food alone alerted her stomach to how hungry she might have been. Pulling at the fabric of her dress to uncover the graze across her thigh, she brushed the speckled crimson away with the heel of her palm with a quiet hiss. Nothing major, but the mock road rash still stung more than she’d anticipated any kind of burn to her skin that night. Carpet burn might have been more her idea of a well spent Wednesday night. “Fuck that noise -- how about I help you with both?” She muttered easily enough, it was still early in her world, and since plan b was a fail, and plan c left her going home to bed, she figured the unexpected worked a little better. “Wait.-- did you just say you need help breaking up with someone? Oh.. I’m so down for that.” Her interest suddenly perked up as she sat higher in the passenger seat, still picking absentmindedly to the rash across her skin. While she’d never personally had to break up with anyone, she’d become quite inept to being part of the break up -- which, seemed like enough of a familiarity to her. “Give me the deets -- what kind of text are we thinking? You wanna’ break hearts or keep up the bullshit charade of being best of pals after? Which --- by the way, never works out, but I’m sure you’re naive enough to believe you could make it happen.” Smacking her lips together, she twisted in her seat ignoring the passing streets, holding her hand out for his phone. “Hand it over, casa-never.” 

Rhys sighed, running his fingers through his hair with a shake of his head. Knowing very well the next morning he would be waking up with a killer headache and full of regrets. He was a solitude drinker, so partying it up with what appeared to be the entirety of town was throwing him off his game; but the sinking feeling of dread still lingered no matter how much he drank. “I’m not saying you have to lie, but haven’t you heard the phrase. If you don’t have anything nice to say,” he met her gaze, “Don’t say anything at all,” mouth turning to a smile he shook his head in disagreement, “Oh I have no intention of coming back next festival, once a millennia is good enough for me,” he stuck his hands into his pockets, fishing out a box of cigarettes, trying to do his best to sober up, “Stupid as in…” he was too drunk for this, “Um. I dunno. I guess literally doing anything. Picking a fight, looking at them weird, y’know. Nothing to set them off. Pretty sure they’re still pissed about finding Nala dead. Last thing we need is for them to come after you or your brother.” 

“Sure, plenty of times --- but I’m not about to live a life of silence, and be honest, you’d all live seriously boring lives if I became a mute.” Cassie mocked all too easily as she returned his grin. If she’d ever been anything in her life, it was nothing short of honest, usually brutally so; it’d been a long time since she’d realized there was little point leaving things unspoken, necessary or not. “We can’t all be precious string beans like you, Rhys.” Canting her head, she watched patiently as he pulled the pack of cigarettes from his pocket, her sparked intention of snagging one already underway as she took the pack from him instead. “I can’t breathe around one of them without Sylas thinking I’m screwing the enemy -- too bad if I was, huh?” She rose a brow, the possibility that she was lingering just enough to press the conversation forward. “They can come after whoever they want.” She shrugged, “They’ll regret it one way or another.”

Upon recognition, he tenses, “Did we…? Again?” A small crease forms as his eyebrow narrow, and he looks at Cassie incredulously as she lays on his bed wrapped up in the sheets, “Of course we did.” He answers his own question before having a drink of water and plunging back down onto the bed beside her. “Only if you make me.” He smirks at her, a glint of amusement in his eyes. Honestly, Henrik didn’t know if he was pleased with himself or disappointed in himself. Pleased to know this encounter annoyed and repulsed her, and disappointed with the fact he’d done the thing he promised himself he wouldn’t do again: her. 

“It’s like you openly choose to ignore every little thing I say,” Not that she didn’t do exactly the same thing when it came to Henrik. The traveler had, for as long as she could remember knowing him, held a defiant distaste for him and every moronic thing that fell from lips too soft for her to refuse as quickly as she did each of his verbal thoughts. “Don’t tempt me, I’ve considered ripping your trachea out with my teeth one too many times for it to be a joke anymore.” She perked up a little more, the curve of her own smirk flickering as she curled up a little more, the warmth of his bed a much more inviting notion than the man himself. As he plummeted into the bed beside her, she scowled, her foot shifting beneath the sheet to shove him roughly, “Get the fuck out already, I don’t know where the hell you threw my dress.”

The singular mention of his brother had the last resolve snapping within Sawyer, jaw clenching tight as he attempted to hold himself back. It, however, did not work. A hand shot up, palm pressing flat against her chest as he pushed her back and none too gently away from prying eyes. His mind screamed that he needed to keep her alive, but his anger argued that he could find the wolf without her. How easy it would be to lift his hand, to wrap fingers around her throat — “Mention my brother again, and I’ll start hacking my way through your pathetic pack. I don’t care who had a hand in it, I’ll destroy every last one of you.”

“Sensitive?” Xander gave a small smile, since he knew he was probably the least among his siblings, “And I thought you were supposed to be somewhat smart. Then you’d know I wasn’t dead.” The vampire rolled his eyes, coughing out a laugh, “Sure, if the view is a good one. Everyone has seen you before – talk about old news.”

“Dead, rotting, dull --- same shit.” She huffed in response, much too used to Xander’s silver tongue to cave to it all too surely as some might have. “Don’t need to be a genius to know that, luckily for me. Oh come off it, a slut shaming another? Who’da thunk it. How’s that shadow your brother’s casting feel? Little’ chilly? Isn’t it about time you showed him up? He’s dropping bodies and you’re busy..-- what, redecorating?”

After the trauma the night of Cass being hilariously announced she was Miss East End (something Cayden had cast his vote for), he wanted to still deliver some kind of congratulations gift she might either appreciate or slap him for. It took him a couple of days, mainly because getting shot had a way of slowing him down, but thanks to Quinn he was doing better, and so he’d gone out and bought the most ridiculous bouquet of flowers and delivered it right to her door, giving a knock and holding them out with a grin and a wink. “I figured being the most beautiful out of a lackluster town was such a success, it deserved a little something.” He teased.

@cxsscndra

The assault of flowers that seemingly filled her doorway made her grimace internally, she fucking hated flowers --- but they weren’t uncommon in lieu of taking out the stupid crown of East End, something she’d never thought would happen considering her habitual nature in terrorizing the town. Clearly, there were some even more twisted than her --- including the vampire that attached itself to the flowers as he held them out for her, “You’re lucky I don’t shove those things so far up your ass you become the vase, Cay.” The mock seriousness in her tone lost as she pushed the flowers aside to grab them. “I’ll keep them forever and ever.” The roll of her eyes defiant, Cassie stepping back to let him in, “But you’re right --- I am a shining beacon of beauty in this lackluster shithole, at least everyone knows it now.”