The door was unlocked when he approached the house, and Cassian chuckled at how his brother would no doubt react to that small fact. Nevermind that Feyre did it with Cassian in mind. His overprotective little brother was likely to have a heart attack if he knew she was so flippant with her safety while he was out of town on business. The secret was safe with Cassian, if only to spare Feyre the mild lecture for the millionth time.

“Hey Fey,” he called, wiping his shoes on the small rug.

His keys made a loud clang in the metal bowl on the entryway table, and Cassian scowled at the jarring sound as if he hadn’t been ultimately responsible. His fatigue was making him grouchy.

“Cass!” Feyre came around the corner beaming and wrapped him in a tight hug. She had always been like a baby sister to him, even in the earliest days of her relationship with Rhysand. Something had made sense between them, and Cassian loved her fiercely.

Squeezing her back with equal enthusiasm, Cassian pressed a kiss to her hair and smiled. “Lonely already?” he teased. “Rhysand only left yesterday.”

Feyre scoffed and pulled away, leading him to the small table off the side of the kitchen. Tea was already steaming in a cast iron kettle in the middle and small pastries were stacked nearby. Cassian’s mouth watered at the sight.

“I’ve hardly had time to be lonely,” she mused, and affection dripped from every word. “You know he’s called with every spare moment.”

“I figured as much. This looks great, by the way.”

“Thanks.” Feyre smiled and gestured toward one of the chairs. Cassian complied— mostly because he knew better than to challenge an Archeron in their own home— and leaned forward on his elbows to bend his neck in a stretch.

A cup of tea appeared in his field of vision, and he winked at Feyre in gratitude. She was poised across from him, her attention sliding to the garden through the window, and the sun illuminating her elegant profile. They sipped in silence for a couple of moments, content in each other’s comfortable, steady company.

Cassian was the first to break the silence, a role he served more often than not. “Have you made much progress on the pieces for your next exhibit with Rhysand being out of town?”

“Some. I haven’t hit much of a stride yet, and that’s daunting considering it’s only a couple of months away.”

Feyre wrapped her hands around her mug and rounded her shoulders as if the admission had cost her something. Whatever the case, Cassian didn’t care to see her stressed.

“You’ll get it,” he assured her. “You always do.” A small smile stretched across her face, and his chest felt a little lighter than before. The joke rolled off his tongue before he could think better of it. “Worst case, I’ll model for you.”

That earned an actual laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, her eyes sparkling, “should I get desperate.”

“We’ll pray it doesn’t come to that.”

They laughed together before turning their focus back to their tea. Cassian took the opportunity to snack on a small scone, which he was pretty sure was meant for children by the looks of it. He said as much, and Feyre rolled her eyes. It was an expression so like Nesta that longing threatened to choke him.

“What about you?” Feyre asked, interrupting his thoughts. “You said you had something to run by me?”

Damn, he’d forgotten he planted that seed when they made plans earlier in the day. The promotion Helion offered was eating him alive, and he needed a sounding board. While that was still true, he hadn’t been tired down to his bones when he’d originally brought it up.

“Yeah, sort of.” He leaned back in his chair and twisted to rest his elbow over the back. “It’s more that I have some things to work through out loud, and I think you could help with pros and cons.”

Feyre’s brows came together over the rim on her mug. With a nod, she placed her tea atop the table and gave him her full, undivided attention. His chest felt tighter than he’d anticipated, but he’d learned to push through uncertainty many moons ago.

“I got offered a promotion,” he began, each word leaving him through an exhale.

“Why do you say that as if it’s tragic?”

A smirk tugged at the edge of Cassian’s mouth. “It’s not tragic, and if I’m honest, I deserve it.”

“So humble.”

He winked in acknowledgement of Feyre’s ribbing. She wasn’t nearly as cutthroat as Nesta in her banter, but she did well enough if Cassian’s soft spot for her was any indication.

“Helion gave me some time to decide, but I need to get back to him soon. There’s not a position to compare it to, and with Nesta and me trying to work things out, I worry about how much of my time it’ll take up.”

Feyre was quiet for a beat too long, enough for Cassian’s lower back to bead with sweat. Stoicism wasn’t something he typically associated with Feyre, but he didn’t regret his limited experience with it.

“Have you told Nesta about it?”

He took a breath. “Yeah. She was supportive, but things are still new. I don’t know if she would try and sway me either way.”

“True,” Feyre replied, taking another long sip of her tea. “Although, if we’re being fair, Nesta will understand putting yourself first.”

Cassian must have failed at keeping his expression placid with how Feyre’s eyes tracked every angle of his face. “Fey, don’t.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“I came here because I thought I wouldn’t have to defend Nesta to you, of all people.”

Silence fell. Hurt flashed over Feyre’s face, her blue eyes round, and Cassian hated himself for hurting her. Defending Nesta wasn’t something he could apologize for, though.

“That’s not what I meant.” Her voice was brittle, soft. “Nesta is practical, and she would understand the value of advancing your career in these early stages of your relationship. She won’t expect you to uproot your routine— your life— simply because you decided to work things out together.”

His eyes eased shut, and he took a measured breath. “I’m sorry.”

Feyre nodded, and the tension seemed to evaporate with the simple gesture. “Not everyone has been receptive, and I can respect you having Nesta’s back. She has too few in her corner as it is.”

Emotion gathered in his throat, and he swallowed against it. “Yeah,” he rasped. “Can I tell you something, just between the two of us for now?”

“Sure. As long as you’re not asking me to lie to Rhys.”

“Nah, not exactly.” Feyre gave him a pointed look, and he raised his hands in placation. “I only ask that you not tell him before I get a chance, but if he suspects anything, I don’t expect you to lie.”

Feyre nodded, but her brow remained furrowed.

“The timing of all this isn’t great, and I don’t know how to talk to Nesta about it,” he admitted. His shoulders relaxed for the first time in minutes. He had greatly underestimated the relief that would come with such a simple admission. “I know where I stand, but I’m trying to let Nesta settle in to all this. With us.”

He paused to assess Feyre’s expression, but she wasn’t giving much away for free. To her credit, Cassian hadn’t exactly spelled things out. He fixed his attention to his palm, using the thumb of his other hand to trace circles around his calluses.

“We talked about what happens if we see this working out long-term. We can’t live thousands of miles apart forever.”

“Well, yeah. Makes sense.”

Cassian cleared his throat. “Nesta isn’t in a place to come back to Velaris, at least not right now. Before Helion talked to me about this job, I’d already told Nesta I would move. To give us a fair shot.”

Feyre’s eyes flared in surprise, but she blinked it away. “And you think it’s too soon.”

“Isn’t it?”

Her laugh was affectionate. “Cass, you and Nesta are already years in the making.”

“Sure, but…” he trailed off, gathering his words. “We agreed to give it time, but I don’t know what she’s comfortable with before deciding to take the next step. What if I turn down the job, and I end up here for at least another year? Or, what if I take it, and I have to quit in three months? I hate the idea of putting anyone in a bind, but Nesta would come first.”

Feyre observed him, her shoulders rounding toward him as if compelled to pull him into a hug. “Cass,” she murmured, “you have to talk to her.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” he joked, leaning back in his chair. He felt raw after such a display of vulnerability, and he craved the levity he was known to bring to any situation. “I don’t want the pressure to freak her out.”

“It’s a risk you take. But she’s the only person who is in this with you and whose opinion really matters. If you’re both committed to this, a simple conversation shouldn’t derail everything. If it does, that’s another issue. I’m not saying it’ll be fun, but it’s necessary.”

Cassian groaned, dragging his hands over his stubbled cheeks. “I know that. You’re supposed to lie to me.”

Feyre’s head dropped back as she laughed, and it was so contagious that it managed to drag a chuckle from beneath the weight of Cassian’s ribs.

“You know, as quick as you are to defend Nesta, maybe it’s worth giving her a little more credit yourself,” Feyre said, her tone soft.

The truth of it hit him full force. He spent so much time preparing for war in Nesta’s honor that he failed to see how his own insecurities sold her short. It was hardly fair to assume the worst in her when he expected the opposite from anyone else. It hadn’t been intentional, but the way his hang-ups exerted influence over his assumptions exposed some lingering scar tissue stretched across his ego.

Cassian nodded and focused on his tea. Feyre had given him more than his fair share to think about, including his unresolved issues and how to shield Nesta from the aftermath.

“So, you’re leaving us, then?” The playfulness in her question was the life preserver he’d needed, and he shamelessly accepted the shift in tone.

“As soon as possible,” he said, deadpan. “Can’t wait, really.”

Feyre chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Liar. You’ll miss us the second you leave.”

Cassian responded with a tight, subtle shake of his head and punctuated it with a wink. His impish denial earned another laugh from Feyre, and his heart felt lighter in the way it usually did when he made his loved ones feel at ease.

A beat of silence passed, and then, “You really love her.”

“Yeah?” Cassian asked, barely suppressing a laugh. “What gave it away?”

A scone flew across the table and hit him square in the chest. He caught it just before it landed on the table and ate half in a single bite, staring at Feyre as if he hadn’t deserved her brutality.

“Don’t be cute, Cassian,” Feyre chided. “I don’t know… I stayed conflicted about you two a couple of years ago. I’ve never seen people who brought each other alive like you and Nesta did, but it always seemed to come at a price.”

Cassian nodded, overly invested in assessing the angle of his next bite. What was he supposed to say to that, anyway?

“Part of me wanted to be relieved when you split up, but you were both miserable,” she continued, another punch to the stomach. “After watching the two of you claw your ways back to yourselves over the last couple of years, it was hard to settle into the idea that things would all snap into place now.”

His fingers drummed a mindless rhythm on the table, the quiet thudding sound keeping his pulse in check. “Well, for what it’s worth, nothing has snapped into place.”

Feyre waited until his eyes met hers again to speak, her brows furrowed. “But I thought—”

“Everything is okay,” Cassian amended, maybe too quickly. It was the truth, but something about being under the microscope made him jumpy and a little defensive. “I just meant that it didn’t happen that way. Nesta and I…” he trailed off, trying to find his words in the ether and settling for the lame ones he found first. “We didn’t have a clean break a couple of years back.”

“So, you two have tried getting back together before?”

A huff of wry amusement left him before he could stop it. “I wouldn’t say that.”

At Feyre’s incredulous stare, he elaborated as much as he dared without sharing all the skeletons in his and Nesta’s closet. He hit the high points of their chronic push and pull. Their weakness and loose details of their misdeeds towards other partners in the name of whatever they hoped to resuscitate between them, no matter how little time they could have had.

“Gods,” Feyre muttered, draining the rest of her tea and setting the cup down heavily. “I had no idea.”

“No one did, except Nesta and me. Azriel suspected at times because he knew how much Nesta always got under my skin, but I was a vault on any of the details.”

“I guess it’s no one’s business, really.”

Cassian raised his brows in silent agreement and leaned back in his chair, stretched his arms one at a time across his chest to relieve some of the tension between his shoulder blades. That familiar pressure was building again, the one that seeped into Cassian’s bones and compelled him to redirect the conversation to less turbulent territory. If not for himself, to bring a smile and an ease back to his sister-in-law, who really had no reason to carry the burden of his past.

“Maybe keep your day job, Fey,” he teased, hoping his impulse didn’t interfere with his mark. “I don’t think your powers of deduction are going to pay the bills.”

She laughed, long and loud, and pride filled his chest to bursting. Feyre was still his ally, it would seem, and the future felt a fraction less daunting with her in their corner.

His tone shifted, suddenly thick with emotion that was a surprise to him as much as Feyre. “I’ve loved Nesta since the night we spent in that cabin. Years ago, now,” he rasped. Feyre’s eyes softened, and she reached across the table for his hand. He let her take it. “Nothing’s been the same since.”

The confession gutted him and eased a tension he’d been carrying for far too long in equal measure. Cassian wondered how he’d managed to keep it all contained to that point, but the realization hit him that he hadn’t. Not really.

Anyone who knew him well knew something chaotic and unyielding had always brewed beneath the surface of his self-control— that most of his conscious effort went toward burning off the constant unsteadiness in his veins. All to avoid a host of bad decisions along the path of shameless self-destruction. The way he carried the weight of his family members’ happiness on his shoulders, the energy he brought to his job and making himself indispensable. Making decisions for others, especially ones that protected them, had never been a challenge for Cassian, as he loved nothing more than to take care of anyone who needed it. The challenge had always been in making decisions that served him when it all came down to it, and he’d never been able to do that without the threat of impact to someone else. Not even that had been enough to keep him away from Nesta over the years, no matter the fallout.

Amren had been right when she’d finally laid it all out, but he would take that small fact to the damned grave. Cruel and unusual torture wouldn’t be enough to risk her smugness for the following millennium.

Feyre ended the prolonged silence, shattering the fragile bits of his impromptu soul search. It was probably for the best, he decided.

“It makes sense, you know,” she said, her voice hushed. “No one loves like you do, Cassian.” A lump formed in his throat, and he offered her a nod in thanks. He didn’t trust the emotions that would come spilling out if he deigned to open his mouth. “And I don’t think anyone feels quite like Nesta, either.”

All good things, he thought, if the individuals in question were healthy and settled. A disaster, if they weren’t. The path his thoughts had taken only moments before indicated that he was a long way from perfect, but Cassian realized with such a small revelation that he and Nesta weren’t damned to everything they’d been through before. Not when they’d both done the work on themselves, albeit incomplete. The game changer was in the choice, and the commitment to that growth and each other.

A weight heavier than he’d thought himself capable of carrying for so many years eased from his shoulders. Not everything, of course, but sometimes, all it took was a moment that offered a little bit of hope.

—

To Feyre’s credit, Nesta had been entirely receptive to Cassian’s perceived dilemma. He’d decided to rip off the proverbial bandaid that very evening, and if he was thankful for anything, it was the fact that he’d opted to untangle his thoughts with his sister-in-law before he’d made the potential mistake of word-vomiting all over Nesta.

He had carefully laid out his pros and cons of taking the promotion— making sure to include the items pertaining to life overall, as well as the implications for their future. Nesta was patient and had pointed out several additional considerations he’d yet to think of, and as it turned out, the two of them made a pretty solid team when they got out of their own way enough to work together through life’s hurdles.

For all her assistance in building both cases, Nesta’s stance on the matter had been straight forward and rather simple if Cassian allowed himself to acknowledge it.

“The thing is,” she’d said, “you need to do what makes the most sense for you right now. Not the Cassian 6 months from now, the Cassian a year from now, or Cassian from yesterday.”

It had been a particularly sobering realization, since Cassian’s usual method involved trying to control for every possible angle, but Nesta had gotten them straight to the heart of the matter. A former version of himself itched to take her position personally, to assume that her bluntness was some kind of directly proportional measure of how little she cared to have him closer. Still a work in progress, but Cassian was pleased that silencing that maladaptive voice in his head got easier every time he did it, and life was offering him plenty of practice.

His commitment to self-advocacy had paid off in his meeting with Helion, and he’d come away with several accommodations that he wasn’t sure they would have agreed to make. Now, days later, he dragged his heavy, sleep-deprived body up the stairs to his apartment— the only way he’d made peace with skipping his workout that day— after another long day at the office. Somehow, he was juggling his usual duties while trying to learn the new ones. His replacement couldn’t start soon enough.

The door shut heavily in his already-dark entryway, his keys landing on the small table near the door by sheer muscle memory. Cassian leaned against the shut door and eased his eyes closed, but his phone vibrated rudely almost immediately. With a groan, he shoved his hand into his pocket and hauled his phone into view. The shift in his mood at seeing Nesta’s name nearly gave him whiplash.

“Hey, Sweetheart.”

He flipped the light switch, muttering a soft curse at the sudden brightness. The assault on his vision was worth it to hear the low, melodic chuckle that came shortly after.

“Hey,” she said, her smile still evident. “Long day?”

Another groan. A rough, calloused hand over the stubble on his cheek. “Yep. Anymore of this, and my brain is going to melt.”

“That feels dramatic.”

Cassian huffed a laugh, tucking his phone against his shoulder and working the buttons on his shirt. “Doesn’t make it less true. Why are you awake?”

The time difference made their nighttime phone calls a luxury. Cassian worried all the time that Nesta didn’t rest enough, but the balance was a delicate one with voicing that concern.

“Missed you,” she said simply, as if it didn’t still rock Cassian to hear Nesta admit such intimacy. “I got in late tonight anyway because I had dinner with Claire. And I made the mistake of picking up my book once I got home.”

“You should set a timer.”

Nesta scoffed. “That’s not how it works.”

He understood the way Nesta lost herself in whatever she read, had witnessed it countless times. Hours passed sometimes before Nesta’s head would lift, her eyes bleary, and she would start the task of re-orienting to the present.

“Yeah, yeah,” he dismissed, smiling at how he knew she would bristle. “How was dinner?”

She took a long, deep breath. “It was good. We were overdue for a catch-up.”

Cassian paused to throw his shirt into the laundry basket and traded his pants for some athletic shorts. With little grace, he threw himself onto his bed, his face buried in his pillow.

“How’s she doing?” he asked, propping on an elbow.

“Good.” Her response was almost too swift, but it felt haunted all the same. “Really good.”

“That’s good.” Cassian cringed. Usually, if the word “good” entered a conversation any number of times in rapid succession, things were quite the opposite. His response felt awkward and uninspired, but he couldn’t put a finger on why. His intuition with Nesta was solid usually, but distance complicated even the things that came most naturally. A lesson he continued to learn.

“She mentioned a promotion.” Nesta sounded detached from the information she shared, and Cassian offered her the time to work through it without comment. “She deserves it. She’s wanted it for a long time and has been passed over several times now. I’m happy for her.”

Cassian considered his words, his mouth opening and slamming shut a couple of times before he landed on, “Why don’t you sound happy?”

“I am,” she insisted, her voice adamant. “I really am… I just…” Cassian let her words linger, afraid that if he made any sudden moves that Nesta may refrain from elaborating. “Some days it feels like I’ve been stuck in place for months while the rest of the world kept moving all around me.”

A grimace pulled at the edges of his mouth. Nesta had done so much work to heal over the months, and while Cassian knew she was moving mountains in their own right, he understood where she was coming from. He and Claire— two people close to Nesta whose lives hadn’t been immeasurably disrupted by recent events — were moving forward in their goals, and Nesta still consistently mentioned how she felt like she would be trying to catch up from her time off in perpetuity.

“I’m sorry, Nes,” he murmured, his voice rough.

“Nothing to be sorry for.” A forced casualness floated along her words, and he hated them for the mask they were. A deep breath in, a deep breath out, and then, “Nothing is set in stone as of now, but it would mean a relocation for Claire. And honestly, I’m not ready to face that yet… the possibility of being here alone all over again.”

Cassian nearly choked on a curse. The thought of Nesta feeling like it was her alone against the world made his chest ache with the need to pull her against him. To press a kiss to her temple and remind her who she was— that, despite being perfectly capable on her own to handle anything life threw her way, she was never fighting alone as long as Cassian was alive.

“I wish there was something I could do.”

Nesta allowed herself a soft laugh, and Cassian’s breath came a little easier, albeit not much. “I know you would if you could.”

“In a heartbeat,” he assured her. “Look, I know the timing isn’t great, but I don’t know— maybe we can talk about our timeline again. Maybe move it up.”

“Cass, absolutely not.” Her tone left no room for discussion, and Cassian felt his eyebrow quirk up as if he’d been challenged. Before he could argue in spite of her silent warning, Nesta’s voice softened. “Not that I don’t want you here. I appreciate that you would, but I won’t be that person that you feel the need to swoop in and save. I’ll be okay.”

His eyes eased shut. How was he supposed to argue with that?

“I know you will.”

An almost-comfortable silence fell over them for a few minutes until Cassian realized that part of their conversation was effectively over. Searching for lighter territory, he cleared his throat.

“Three more sleeps until I see you.”

Her laugh was the reward he’d wanted. Anything to know he’d put a smile on her face. “Most people countdown in days.”

“Mm,” he replied, seemingly unimpressed, but his smile came through anyway. “I’m not most people.”

“Isn’t that the truth?”

“I’m not sure if I should take offense to that.”

Nesta was quiet, and Cassian pictured the way her teeth sank into her lower lip when she fought a smile. Then, because he felt indulgent, he thought of the way he would trace her mouth with his thumb, how her eyes went round when he tipped her chin up.

“No,” she almost whispered. “It’s a good thing.”

Rolling over to his back, he ran a hand through his wild hair and groaned at his mental to-do list.

“Shit. I still need to pack.”

“I have some of your stuff here,” she reminded him. “A toothbrush, shampoo, body wash. All you need is clothes and shoes.”

“That helps. Still have to do my laundry first.”

Nesta hummed her understanding. “Well, if our schedules line up, I’ll keep you busy while you wait for the machine to finish.”

The lazy drawl of his words was courtesy of the many images her promise inspired. “I like the way your brain works, Sweetheart.”

——————————————————————————

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Cassian: Made it home safe. Get some rest, sweetheart.

Cassian: Oh yeah. Feel free to stop by my apartment after you ride with C to the airport. I might be asleep but use the spare and join me if you want.

Cassian: No pressure though.

The thought of casually slipping into Cassian’s apartment to snooze through the morning was equal parts tempting and bizarre. She knew she would end up on his doorstep despite her nerves, but it seemed a little surreal to have the option in the first place.

Before an argument against doing so could present itself, she felt Claire stirring in bed right behind her. The movement quickly redirected her attention to the woman in question who, at some point in the night, had tucked herself tightly against Nesta’s back.

When she had returned to the room from her talk with Cassian, Claire hadn’t been inside. Nesta was laying in bed, just on the verge of a mild freak out, when Claire had padded quietly into the room. She was asleep before Nesta could decide what to say.

“Where were you last night? I was worried when I got back,” Nesta croaked.

“Sorry, Mother.” A huff of annoyance from Nesta. “I was out.”

“I know that, CC. Where?”

“I was having a night cap in a friend’s room,” Claire murmured casually between Nesta’s shoulders.

“What?! Who?!” She tried to roll over but found she was stuck.

“Mor.”

That hadn’t been what Nesta expected, but it wasn’t the most far fetched pairing she’d ever heard. The surprise was more in relation to the fact that she didn’t recall seeing the two women hanging around each other at the reception, but she supposed she was otherwise distracted. The reminder of Cassian’s warmth against her as they swayed on the dance floor send tingles throughout her body.

“I hope you enjoyed yourself.” And she really meant it. “You know, Mor and I didn’t exactly hit it off at first.”

“How?” Claire lifted her head to peer over Nesta’s shoulder. “She’s like sunshine in a bottle.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “That should be answer enough.”

Claire laughed, rolling onto her back to wiggle under the blankets. “Well, her head game is the truth. Not that it should sway your opinion. Just thought I’d share.” Nesta could hear the troublesome grin in Claire’s voice.

“Gods, Claire,” she lamented, tossing a pillow over Claire’s face. It didn’t stifle her giggle. “I didn’t need to know any of that.”

“Of course not.” She lowered the pillow to fix her gaze on Nesta. “But you insisted on knowing my whereabouts, so I thought you were on board for details.”

Nesta hated that she had every right to say it. She had demanded the information.

“You told me you were going to fall asleep in seconds. How did you end up in Mor’s room?”

“In my defense, I thought I would be. Right after you left, my phone went off. She asked me to go sit by the pool for a drink, and I went. We just didn’t stay downstairs very long. She invited me to stay in her room, but I told her I didn’t want to worry you. She understood and walked me back. That’s the whole story minus the fun parts.”

“You could have texted me or something to let me know you wanted to stay with her. I would have been fine.”

Claire was quiet for a moment. “Yeah, but I didn’t want to miss any time with you, either.”

“Sappy this morning,” Nesta quipped, turning on her side to face Claire, who was busy rolling her eyes.

“So, are you going to make me beg, or are you going to tell me what happened when you went after Cassian last night?”

“What makes you think I caught up to him? Maybe I just spent some time getting some fresh air outside.”

“Your hair smells like him, so don’t even try that shit with me.”

With a deep breath, Nesta launched into the short version of the night’s events. Claire took in every word with rapt attention, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction at what she and Cassian had decided for themselves. Nesta’s chest tightened at seeing such genuine happiness in response to her own.

It was those moments that made Nesta’s chest squeeze with the reminder of her very separate worlds.

—

Claire argued over whether Nesta would accompany her to the airport, ignoring the fact that it was decided before she arrived in Velaris. She wasn’t going to let her friend travel home without the extra time spent in her company, well wishes, and one last hug.

She went as far as airport security with her before hugging her tightly and demanding that Claire let her know she landed safely. Once satisfied with her friend’s promises, she held her head high and walked outside to catch a ride. Nesta pretended her voice didn’t crack as she recited Cassian’s address to the driver.

It felt like an eternity before her ride dropped her in front of Cassian’s apartment building. She climbed the stairs, considering the nerves that suddenly gripped her throat. It wasn’t as if she had never been to his place; not by a landslide, but the implications were so different after their conversation.

She knocked softly on the door. It was still incredibly early in the morning, not yet 7:30, but Cassian was known to rise with the sun most days. Using his spare key seemed weirdly intimate, but she was left to bite the bullet when he didn’t respond to her knocks. The key was beneath a small evergreen plant near his door, and Nesta smiled at the delicate touch to his entryway. The plant was probably a gift from Elain, but there was something so pure about the idea that Cassian made a point to care for it and keep it alive.

Once the door was unlocked, she made sure to place the key back in its original resting place. The apartment was dead quiet save for the humming of the fan and appliances. Nesta slipped out of her shoes at the door and tiptoed as quietly as possible toward his bedroom to find the door slightly ajar.

The room was dark and a little chilly, but there was a sliver of light coming in around the blinds. It was just enough to allow Nesta a rough visual of Cassian’s form laying across the bed. He was face-down diagonally with one arm folded under his head. The other was folded beneath his chest, his fist tucked close to his neck and chin. Nesta couldn’t make out the features of his face, but she imagined them to be relaxed and softened in his slumber.

Rather than plop onto the bed and risk startling him, she knelt next to the mattress and brushed his wild hair away from his face. His brow scrunched at the disruption to his rest, but his expression changed to a small, sleepy smile upon realizing who woke him. Nesta only got a brief glimpse of his eyes before they fluttered shut once again, and she wondered if he’d already fallen back asleep.

Cassian shifted to release the arm pinned beneath him, rolling away and extending the arm toward Nesta. She eased onto the mattress on her back, and he tugged her close to his body as he settled down. It took a moment for him to be content with their position, his jostling pulling a soft giggle from Nesta’s chest in the process. Finally, he was comfortable using her chest as a pillow; his arm cradled beneath her neck and the other thrown tightly over her waist.

“Good morning,” she whispered into the top of his hair.

A shiver worked its way through his body at her words. He held her even tighter as he grumbled something that sounded similar to “morning”, although Nesta could have invented it entirely. She huffed a laugh at the irony of their position; he was usually the morning person, whereas she held the role of the cranky, clingy one.

She ran a hand along the length of his spine as she dozed until a deep mumbling sound startled her to attention.

“Hmm?” she asked, too comfortable to be bothered with words.

Cassian lifted his head barely an inch as if it would solve the issue. Luckily, she was able to make out just enough.

“...asked you if... play with my hair.”

A soft laugh erupted from Nesta’s throat. “What’s with you being so needy?”

His attention snagged on the question, his head raising to shoot a glare at her through one eye. “‘M not. I’m feeling nostalgic today, I guess.”

Nesta couldn’t argue with that, especially with the emotion clogging her throat. She offered a soft smile to conceal them from his usually perceptive gaze, easing his head back to her chest with a soft hand. He settled properly once more as her fingers raked through his hair from temple to ends. She lifted her other hand to do the same in its wake, and she watched any tension in Cassian’s body fade away completely.

Nesta didn’t know how long they laid there curled around one another. Her bones were heavy, unsupported by the total lack of tension throughout the muscles in her body. It was the most relaxed she had been in weeks, months even.

Cassian was the first to break the spell, releasing her to prop himself on his elbows.

“Hey,” he said through a grin, pressing a warm kiss to her collarbone. Nesta felt the rush of heat down to her toes. “I have to pee.”

With a wink, Cassian rolled away from her, taking the moment with him. He slipped into the en-suite bathroom to do just that, and Nesta took the opportunity to slip her leggings and small tee off her body. She padded over to Cassian’s dresser to grab a t-shirt and slipped back into the warm spot he left beneath the covers.

She heard the bathroom door open and peered over to find Cassian standing near the mattress. He gave her an amused smile at seeing her snuggled in his blanket, but Nesta only saw it briefly in favor of trailing her eyes down his bare torso. Heat erupted across her skin at seeing him shirtless, his sweats hanging low on his hips. Cassian’s body was so familiar to her that she could probably sketch it from memory, but it never failed to leave her a little breathless.

“I borrowed a shirt,” she announced dumbly, holding the covers up to invite him.

Cassian hurried to join her. His arms found their home around her waist as he scooted down to rest his head against her chest. His form dwarfed her own, but he made sure to keep a bit of his weight on his elbows rather than crush her beneath him.

There were worse ways to go, Nesta thought.

Her hands resumed their ministrations through his hair, earning a contented hum. Her heart clenched as he nuzzled deeper into her shirt. To steady her chaotic emotions, she busied her hands by working small, messy French braids into his hair. Once done, she smoothed them out to start over. Cassian never complained.

Nesta could have stayed that way for days, pressed against Cassian as if everything they had done and talked about in the last two days was without consequence. The mere thought of it made her heart beat a bit faster, and she had to focus on her breathing to keep from spiraling. His warmth grounded her, made all the more potent when she felt the brush of his lips on her neck.

“I’m glad you came,” he whispered into her skin. “I wasn’t sure if you would.”

Nesta lifted her chin for him without a thought. “And miss my chance to convince you to sleep in? Never.”

He laughed against her neck and caused goose flesh to cover her body. He had the best laugh. It was always genuine and bold, contagious to anyone around him. She didn’t dare consider if it made others’ toes curl, too. That would only lead her down a violent path.

“Well,” he rasped, nipping her jaw in the process. “You’re not doing a great job. The last thing on my mind is sleep.”

She laughed, but it died in her throat when his hips aligned with hers. It turned into a feeble squeak as he rolled them in a lazy rhythm and hiked her thigh around his waist. She matched his movements, whimpering into the pillow as the tension grew unbearable.

Cassian slid farther up her body to capture her mouth, groaning as she opened up for him. Nesta couldn’t keep from breathing his name against his lips. For every mistake they made, for everything they’d done wrong, being together like this always made perfect sense.

That was until Cassian pulled away, looking down at her with some unknown emotion swirling in his eyes. He shook it off to kiss her again, but the expression was seared behind Nesta’s eyelids. She pulled back softly, careful not to cause any alarm.

“What is it?”

His eyes scanned her face before he responded. “Everything’s fine. Are you okay?”

Nesta nodded as he slanted his mouth over hers. The only sounds in the room were their breaths and the rustling of the blankets. Cassian moved a hand beneath her head to hold her flush against him as he leaned back on his knees, and Nesta wordlessly straddled his hips as he sat back fully.

She gripped his cheeks firmly to deepen the kiss. She was ready to give herself over to the feeling entirely, to get lost in something that was Cassian and hers alone. She’d never felt like home with anyone else. Not like this.

“I missed being close to you.”

Tears burned behind her eyelids at his words, and she hoped to the gods that they stayed put.

“Me too, baby,” she said, thankful her voice remained even.

Cassian groaned his approval, but things seemed to shift gears so quickly it gave Nesta whiplash. His hands left her back to grip her wrists softly, pulling her hands away from his face. Her eyes flew open at the gesture, but his eyes remained closed beneath his furrowed brow. Her heart took residence in her throat.

“Cass?”

His eyes fluttered open, and her heart was impossibly loud.

“Nes, can I tell you something?”

With such a small question, she was reeling. Was it regret she’d seen in his gaze before? Had he said too much, committed to too much last night? Was the casual nature of the morning bringing him abruptly back to reality?

Had she imagined her own nod? Surely not if Cassian took the cue to start talking again.

“I know what you’re thinking, and stop.” A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. “I meant everything I said, and I regret nothing.”

Nesta drew her bottom lip between her teeth and dropped her eyes to his hands around her wrists. She hated the meekness of her voice. “Okay. So, what is it?”

“We uhh— we don’t have to talk now. Really, it’s nothing. I just thought I would—“

Nesta’s eyes flitted back up to meet his. “Don’t do that. Don’t hide from me.”

Cassian released a heavy breath. It took him several moments to collect his nerve. He lifted her hands to place them on his shoulders, freeing his own to grip her waist.

“Do you remember our conversation on the dance floor?”

Nesta managed a nod. Of course, she remembered.

“Specifically the part about my—“ He cleared his throat. “My confession before.”

Realization dawned on her. After such a heavy, and long overdue, conversation about their past, she wondered if Cassian worried about how she would react to all the change.

“Oh, it’s okay, Cass. I don’t have any... expectations or anything. Just because you felt that way then doesn’t mean I need that from you now or—“

She hadn’t realized her eyes were fixed in her lap again until Cassian curled an index finger beneath her chin to lift it. “That is the exact opposite of what I want to talk to you about.”

The stern rasp of his voice heated her cheeks. Nesta was a smart woman and was fairly sure she understood his implication, but she didn’t dare voice it on the off chance she was wrong.

“I decided last night that I would talk to you eventually, but I planned to wait since everything is so fresh.” He released her chin. “Nes, none of it really ever changed for me. I got pretty good at convincing myself I had moved on, but we both know that’s a lie.”

Nesta swallowed against the lump in her throat. Her brain scrambled to understand why Cassian’s expression seemed so grave when his words were fairly innocuous. In truth, they were everything she’d denied herself for so long. She rubbed soothing circles against his shoulders with her thumbs.

“I almost told you last night... gods, several times.” He huffed an ironic laugh at his own expense. “I thought maybe it was the context, and I could save this conversation for later. I’ve learned this morning that’s not the case.

“I want you to know that I’m serious about us and everything we talked about. Like I said last night, I’m all in. I just—“ he reached up to rub roughly at his face, settled his hands back to her hips. “This is so fucking stupid.”

“It’s not,” she assured him, dipping her head to catch his eye again. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”

For the love of the Mother, tell me.

She leaned back heavily to carry his weight with her. “Come on,” she ordered gently. “Lay down with me.”

His small smile encouraged her. He lowered her gently before rolling to his side next to her. They faced each other on the pillow, and Cassian wrapped an arm around her waist.

“Nesta.” The conviction in his voice threatened to dissolve her bones. “I still feel those things for you. Every time I really relax into this, I feel like the words are going to explode out of me. But, I don’t know, I end up nervous because it also fucking terrifies me to say that out loud. This is on me to figure out, and I know that, but I wanted you to know. I don’t want you to doubt me or this because of some weird hang up I have, you know?”

She nodded. “In all fairness, this anxiousness didn’t come out of nowhere.” He smiled an ironic kind of smile that made her heart ache. “I really underestimated the vulnerability it took to admit that to me those years ago. Part of me assumed you loved everyone in your life so freely and easily that...” She trailed off.

What had she thought really? That Cassian went around declaring his love for anyone and everyone he spent more than a half hour with? She knew better than that even then, but could she have walked away from him if she let herself believe anything else?

“Anyway, this is on me, too. I don’t need specific words, nor do I feel like I deserve them from you. I know, deep down, that you care about me. In the meantime, I’ll work on earning back your trust.”

Cassian popped up on a elbow with newfound resolve. “No. I’m not asking you to prove yourself to me. Things are different this time. That’s why I’m annoyed with myself for even feeling like this. I should be able to tell you how I feel without my stomach lodging itself in my throat.” His voice softened as he picked at invisible lint on the sheet between them. “It was just really hard. Afterward, I mean. And even though I know things are different, I still can’t shake it.”

“You’re being hard on yourself.” His eyes snapped up to hers, softening as he took in her expression. “It’s okay to be apprehensive when your life was turned upside down the last time you admitted something like this to someone.”

It felt strange to talk him through things considering she was the one to inflict said trauma, but somehow, it wasn’t strange at all. They’d moved mountains in the last couple of months, and Cassian knew her on a level she never dreamed another person could. Nothing felt off limits anymore.

“There’s another layer that kept me up last night,” he replied with a smirk. It wasn’t the kind of smirk she adored seeing on his face though. It was almost self-deprecating. “Things will be hard on us with the distance as it is. You deserve to know how much someone cares for you, especially when they aren’t there to show it. I don’t want this to add friction we can’t afford because... damn it, Nesta. I never thought I’d get another shot at this.”

She lifted a hand to his cheek and pulled his face to hers. “Shh,” she soothed, pressing her lips softly to his. “We’re all in, okay? If I start to feel insecure, I’ll tell you.”

Cassian lowered himself back to the pillow, tugging her closer to him in the process. Nesta busied herself by taming his full eyebrows, neither of which fared well in his slumber. He smiled softly at her doting.

“I want to be everything you deserve,” he whispered.

His eyes were growing heavy once more. Lack of sleep was the biggest culprit, but her soft ministrations only added to his drowsiness.

“You’re more than I deserve.”

He frowned adorably at the comment. Nesta laughed softly at his predictable reaction, noting that the same confession “of the three little words variety” nearly tumbled from her own mouth. She didn’t dare do so after such a vulnerable moment for Cassian, knowing he would feel compelled to reciprocate. She couldn’t bear to be the cause of any more internal conflict.

Inspiration struck her at the realization.

“Hey, I have an idea. If it’s stupid, just tell me.”

Cassian huffed a laugh, but he gave her his undivided attention.

“What if we— and maybe this is too weird— but what if we say it for each other? Kind of like a general observation rather than it having to be some big confession.”

“I may need a little more than that to make sure I understand you,” he replied, but his smile grew.

“I know, it’s a little unorthodox. But maybe it wouldn’t be so... nerve-wrecking if we said it on the other’s behalf. And it would allow me to acknowledge the ways you show me you care, even when I’m not with you.”

“Okay.” A simple concession, but one of the best one-word sentences Nesta had ever heard.

“I’ll put my neck out first. It seems fair.”

That earned a true laugh from Cassian. “Agreed,” he jested.

Nesta took a deep breath, steeling her nerves. She could do this. For Cassian, she could do anything.

“You love me.”

Cassian’s eyes glistened with the emotion she hadn’t dared acknowledge so many times before. His smile grew considerably, revealing his beautiful teeth framed by full, soft lips. Nesta would have taken the bottom one between her teeth if her heart hadn’t stopped.

A slow nod. Then, “And you love me.”

Unshed tears clogged her throat. A soft, shaky laugh bubbled out of her chest as Cassian covered her cheek with his large hand. His thumb ran across her lips, but his eyes remained trained on hers. Nesta watched as a tear, so small she barely noticed it, trailed down his face to the pillow beneath his head.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “For meeting me halfway.”

“Always. I promise.”

Cassian tugged her lips to his, kissing her softly, thoroughly. He pulled away to lie back, pulling her onto his chest and lifting her leg around his waist. Nesta placed a kiss to the underside of his jaw, relishing in the unhurried pace of the morning. It had been several lifetimes since they had a moment like it.

“Go back to sleep, baby,” she whispered, nuzzling her nose into his neck. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Cassian lifted his hand from her lower back to cradle her head against him. Tucking his cheek to her forehead, he settled deeper into bed to take her advice. There were still so many things they needed to talk about, so many things left unaddressed over the years. But if that one small conversation had taught Nesta anything, it was they could build themselves to last if they wanted it. They didn’t have to burn out hard and bright like she’d always assumed.

Maybe it would be hard; in fact, it would absolutely be hard at times. Things between them had been anything but easy while apart anyway, so at least this time, any effort or growing pains had the potential to pay off.

And if everything went tumbling down around them, there was one thing that would make it all worth it to Nesta.

Cassian knew that she loved him.

——————————————————————————

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Their dance the night before had been impulsive and silly, but he would be lying if he denied that it was the highlight of his evening. It felt so natural to laugh together, to hold her close to him. That was the problem.

He had stayed in the shower as long as it had taken him to wrangle his rogue thoughts. That was after he’d kept himself, several times, from abandoning his shower altogether in favor of barging back into the room and slanting his mouth over Nesta’s. He’d been tortured by the way her sodden clothes clung to her body once they left the pool and again by the heat of her body pressed against his in the car to escort Claire home. When Nesta had shifted to move away from him, his hand had reached for her shoulder on its own accord. He’d been afraid that he pushed her too far, that he crossed some kind of unspoken boundary, but his entire body lit up in flames when her hand fell to his knee.

Even then, as he completed such an arbitrary task as signaling his next turn, he fought the urge to reach for her. At that moment, it more a gesture of support than anything to do with his attraction, but he was already flirting a delicate line. How much physical contact was he willing to normalize between them if their fate was to be friends and nothing more? Was he willing to sign up for that level of torture perpetually?

“How you doing, Nes?” Small talk seemed like safe territory; anything to get him out of his damned head.

“Okay,” she breathed, turning to look at him for the first time during their drive. “You?”

His mouth pulled in a half-smile. “I’m okay. You’ll talk to me, yeah?” He let the implication settle in. If you’re not okay, will you let me be there for you? Will you let me support you through whatever comes next? Will you trust me?

“Isn’t that the point of you being here?” she countered, but there was no bite to it. In fact, he swore he saw a gentle twitch at the corner of her mouth.

Cassian huffed a laugh. “I only signed up for heavy lifting and being something nice to look at.” He shot a playful wink her way, to which she offered an exaggerated eye roll. “I thought I was going above and beyond with the moral support.”

Roll your eyes again, he wanted to say. I know other ways to have them doing that same thing.

He refrained for obvious reasons.

Nesta’s voice snapped him roughy into the present. “How... gratuitous.”

“I thought you’d think so.”

Cassian slid into the parking spot in front of her apartment building. He placed the car in park and settled into his seat, waiting for her to make the first move. He didn’t want to rush her.

Nesta released a long, loaded breath in the silence of the car. He turned his head toward her to find her already looking his way. Her blue eyes were determined, maybe glistening a little more than usual, but she wore her mask beautifully.

“Let’s get me the hell out of here.”

—

Blessedly, Nesta didn’t own any of the living furniture, nor did she intend to take her bedroom furniture with her. Cassian was in full support of the plan considering that meant all they needed were a few boxes of her things and some clothes. The pair had successfully packed up anything she needed from her bathroom and the majority of her bedroom. The only things left were her shoes and the clothes hanging in her closet.

“Nes, do you have any trash bags?”

She eyed him skeptically, as if he may take the lot of her stuff and throw it in a dumpster. He rolled his eyes. Nesta tore her eyes away to grab the last of the drawstring bags they’d originally grabbed from the pantry for any trash they found along the way. She passed it to him roughly, her eyes locked on his movements like a hawk.

Cassian moved to her closet and pushed a section of her clothes away from the others. He licked his fingers to create enough traction to get the bag open, glancing up at Nesta beneath his brow to offer her a playful wink. He swore he saw her pupils dilate, but he couldn’t afford to entertain such a thought. He shook the bag roughly to allow the air of the room to finish the job and lowered it around the bottom of the clothes he’d pulled to the side.

“What are you doing?” Her voice was equal parts judgmental and curious.

Rather than answer her, Cassian eased the bag around the clothes and shimmied it up and over the hangers. He pulled roughly at the drawstrings to cinch the bag’s openings around the hangers’ hooks, tying it off in a double knot. Pushing it aside, he sectioned off another chunk before turning to Nesta to offer an explanation.

“This way we won’t have to pack all these up just to re-hang them later. The tie will keep the hangers together, so we’ll be able to grab them by the section, lay them in the car, then hang them up at Claire’s. Saves us some time.”

Nesta’s eyes widened slightly as she processed his words, and he could almost see the evidence of her scanning his plan for weak spots. She must have determined there was nothing noteworthy and shook her head gently. A satisfied, playful smirk donned the elegant planes of her face.

“I’m positive that you’ve never been hotter in your entire life,” she delivered casually, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Cassian threw his head back as he laughed at her joke. The combination of such a bold declaration and her dry delivery tickled him in a way he hadn’t felt in some time, and he relished in the way his stomach tired at the effort. When he mastered himself enough to drop his gaze to hers, Nesta wore a satisfied smirk at her handy work.

“Well,” he countered, “you’ll be beside yourself when I get this closet done in less than 5 minutes.” The way the intrigue colored her face made him want to grip those cheeks and kiss her breathless. “I’ll need more of these to do that though. Could I bother you to go grab the box?”

Nesta chuckled, and Cassian took a second to shamelessly enjoy the sound of it. He felt he was holding himself back successfully enough. He would allow himself that little joy.

“Sure,” she breathed, eyeing him mischievously.

He busied his hands by taping up some of the boxes they’d finished packing minutes before. The loud squeaking of the packing tape was a sound he would be content to never hear again, but the sentiment was overruled by what the sound meant for Nesta. He almost grabbed the marker to label the boxes yet decided against it to avoid hearing Nesta’s complaints of his messy scrawl across the cardboard.

It felt like she was gone a little longer than necessary with the small trek into the kitchen. He wondered if she had found some things there that she realized she needed and thought to go offer a box to her. Upon crossing the threshold of her bedroom; however, he heard voices murmuring back and forth. There was no kindness in either tone, and he bristled immediately in defense.

“Nesta,” he called, not daring to sneak up on her. “Did you need some—“

His footsteps stopped immediately, the blood in his veins running a sharp, painful cold. Nesta stood within the transition from the kitchen to the living room with her eyes locked on the man standing in the entry way. Cassian knew in his bones who stood before them, but he slowly dragged his eyes along the floor to see a suitcase near the figure. He slid his gaze up from the man’s feet, all the way to the sneering face whose eyes were darting between Nesta and Cassian.

Tomas.

The man huffed an impatient laugh at realizing who Cassian was. “Why am I not surprised, Nesta?”

Cassian slid his eyes to her, and he tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans so that no one saw the fists he couldn’t refrain from making. That effort proved even more difficult as he took Nesta in; the way her eyes lined with silver and her shoulders rounded at Tomas’ words. His stomach turned leaden with suppressed emotion, but he committed to allowing her to lead the situation.

No matter how much it pained him to do so.

“Tomas,” she said softly, her voice only a little louder than before. “Please just leave us be. We’ll be out of here in half an hour, tops. By the time you get back, there won’t be any sign we were here.”

Cassian leaned against the frame of the hallway entry, his hands still tucked firmly in his pockets. If he were to pull them out, he knew there would be clear impressions of his fingernails on each of his palms. At Tomas’ incredulous laugh, his eyes snapped to the man’s face of their own accord.

“You’re not seriously asking me to leave our apartment.” Our apartment.

There was a roaring in Cassian’s ears at his words, regardless of the fact that none of them truly concerned him. The condescension was enough to do it though. He could only imagine the magnitude of how it felt for Nesta.

“Actually, I’m asking you to leave your apartment,” she retorted coldly. “We’re almost done getting my stuff. Please, just leave us alone.”

Tomas crossed his arms as he broadened his stance. He was holding his ground, and Cassian had half a mind to remove him forcefully through the front door. Sweat began to pool along his lower back and the backs of his knees; two other clear indicators of his temper. Tomas was on borrowed time, he realized.

“Cut the bullshit, Nesta. We both know you’re just trying to get a reaction out of me. Well here, you got it. Stop all this so we can talk this over, okay? Please.”

Cassian blinked rapidly at his audacity to ask Nesta for anything. He hoped she wouldn’t take the bait, although Tomas’ mask of innocence was fairly convincing. Nesta’s swallowed thickly at the request, the slight head shake she gave Tomas sending a wave of relief through Cassian’s entire body. He should have known it was a false security.

“Tomas, I can’t, I—“

“What do you mean you can’t? Gods, this is the same bullshit as it always is, isn’t it?” he took several steps in her direction, and Nesta mirrored them to maintain her distance.

Before he realized what he was doing, Cassian pushed off the frame and took several slow steps toward them. Tomas’ advance halted at seeing his approach, and an antagonistic smile took up residence across his face. What Cassian would give to wrap his hands around the fucker’s throat.

“Fucking typical,” Tomas spat toward Nesta. “It’s always him you go back to, isn’t it? Does the bastard know how you use him, how you’ll throw your life away for the crumbs of attention?”

Before Cassian could close the distance, Nesta walked to position herself between the two of them. Reluctant to turn her back on Tomas, she remained facing to the side and turned her head to address each of them.

“Cassian, stop. It’s not worth it,” she breathed, her voice a gentle caress to his senses.

Despite the balm she applied to his temper, his chest heaved with the effort to remain even for her. It seemed as if Tomas knew exactly what buttons to push, and his heart beat savagely against his rib cage with the effort to stay calm. He wanted to take the small steps toward Nesta and pull her roughly into his side to ensure there was no risk to her well-being, but he absolutely refused to manhandle her in such a way. Especially in that very apartment.

He wondered what Tomas’ words meant; if there was any truth to them or if they were meant to provoke Nesta. It wasn’t as if Cassian was ignorant to the toxicity of their on and off coupling, but why would she have shared any of that with Tomas? He felt oddly protective over their time together, regardless of the fact that it wasn’t all that healthy. It was becoming unbearable to keep his feet planted on the carpet instead of unleashing his temper on the prick in front of him.

“It seems I’ve hit a nerve,” Tomas drawled. “Did you think you were something more to her?”

Nesta’s panicked expression broke his heart, and he kept his eyes on hers to assure her he wasn’t breaking. Her chest heaved with her nerves, and Cassian hated that she’d found herself in such a situation. He ignored Tomas’ provocation entirely. It seemed that Nesta didn’t have it in her to do the same.

“Enough,” she hissed. “Leave us alone, and we’ll be on our way.”

Tomas didn’t even glance her direction, his hard glare still fixed on Cassian. “What do you think will happen when you two fly off into the sunset, hm? What happens when you serve as her knight once again, and she wants nothing to do with you later?”

Cassian gritted his teeth, his jaw flickering under the force. Tomas had no way of knowing how fine the line of his temper really was, but if not for Nesta, he would have had Cassian’s hands on him minutes before. Nesta was the prick’s salvation, and he didn’t even have the decency to realize it.

The ire dripped from Tomas’ voice as he continued. “What if you did all this,” he gestured around the room, “only to land in the friend zone again? You’d think you would understand where I was coming from.”

Nesta’s eyes implored Cassian to take the words on the chin, but he’d nearly bitten his tongue clean off at that point. The words bubbled out of him on their own, his voice smooth and lethal.

“If that’s what she wanted, I would respect it when she told me no.”

Tomas had the good sense to pale at Cassian’s clear meaning, but it didn’t stop him from escalating. He made to walk toward Cassian, but Nesta stopped him with a firm hand to his chest. He looked down at her as if he’d forgotten she was present, and Cassian prayed to any god out there that Tomas didn’t react to her interruption. If that happened, it was all over.

“Cassian,” she begged, her voice wobbling with unshed tears. “Go back to the room, and I’ll meet you there. Please.”

He took a couple of steps backward, his glare daring Tomas to do anything he’d regret. He didn’t turn his back just in case, not until Nesta was at a safe distance.

“And you,” she snapped toward Tomas, “stop all this. This has nothing to do with him, and you know it.”

Cassian watched Tomas’ gaze clear a fraction, as if suddenly remembering himself. He turned then, forcing himself to walk to Nesta’s old room to avoid any additional tension, to be one less thing on her list to worry over.

“How fucking dare you,” Tomas scolded.

Cassian’s footfalls froze immediately at the sound.

“You have the nerve to stand here and defend him?”

There was a thrumming in his ears again, all the blood rushing to his torso and causing his arms and legs to tingle uncomfortably. Bile rose to his throat. Nesta didn’t deign to respond, much to Cassian’s relief.

“I don’t know how you could bring him here at all. And the fact that you didn’t even apologize... that you got what you wanted from me; fucked me and left me on that couch to run off to Velaris— to him.”

Tomas’ outlandish accusations were Cassian’s undoing. He had refused to react to most things up to that point, but the insinuation that he’d been a victim of Nesta had Cassian reeling. He pivoted swiftly toward the man, his feet carrying him across the apartment in only a few strides. His fist collided with Tomas’ jaw, the sound of skin on skin and the clicking of the man’s teeth bringing a certain peace over him. He knew it was fucked up, but he had zero remorse as he watched Tomas crumple to the ground.

“Cass, wait—“

He was only vaguely aware of Nesta’s voice at that point. That familiar malignancy of his anger was officially piloting every movement he made as he reached down to grip the collar of Tomas’ shirt and hauled him to his feet. He slammed him into the wall of the entry way, the pictures on the walls rattling at the impact.

One of his forearms shifted across Tomas’ throat, pinning him in place against wall. The man’s breaths came out in sharp rasps, and Cassian fought the urge to apply more pressure at the sound of his continued breathing.

A manic, incredulous laugh came from Tomas, blood beginning to drip from his mouth. The sight of it satisfied Cassian’s anger slightly, but he wasn’t sure that it would ever be enough for what he’d done to Nesta.

Tomas’ voice was nothing but a rough croak. “I’m not the enemy here. She’s used us both. That bitch doesn’t deserve your loyalty.”

Cassian saw red at the clear disgust in the man’s voice. How was he supposed to walk away without ripping his head clean off his shoulders?

“That bitch,” he scorned, the word like ash on his tongue, “is the only reason you’re not already dead.”

Tomas had the good sense gawk at Cassian’s intentional choice of words. It only spurred him on, his nostrils flaring and his voice taking on that characteristic calm.

“You don’t speak to her. You don’t look in her general direction. As far as you’re concerned, you never knew her.” Cassian paused to let his demands sink in, Tomas’ eyes scanning his face furiously. He couldn’t resist pulling him from the wall slightly to throw him against it once more for emphasis. “If I hear anything to the contrary, I won’t hesitate. That’s a fucking promise.”

The man nodded, and despite the instincts roaring under his skin, Cassian let him go. He shoved him toward the front door for good measure, and Tomas barely paused to grab his keys before walking out. Cassian eased his eyes closed as he tried to process the events of the day, but no sense would come. He was still so angry, nearly compelled to follow the sorry piece of shit and finish what he started. He knew it wasn’t productive, but everything in him wanted it.

Rather than do something that would surely land him in prison, Cassian pivoted to walk back toward Nesta’s room. He couldn’t bear to look at her for fear that she was angry or upset by his actions, so he kept his head dipped as he made his way. Once through the door, an overwhelming feeling of nausea swept over him, causing him to increase his pace to make it to her small bathroom. He rested his palms against the toilet seat, head bowed, as he waited.

He didn’t know he was capable of the visceral hatred he felt for that son of a bitch.

A choked sound came from the back of his throat as he heaved, but the vomit didn’t come. He shifted to rest his palms on either side of the sink, forcing himself to haul air into his lungs to steady his pulse. Once vomiting wasn’t such an immediate threat, he splashed cold water over his face and neck, hissing at the sting of the chill against his split knuckles.

Nesta stood within the doorway of her room once he emerged. Cassian eased himself onto the edge of her bed, resting his elbows on his knees to cradle his head in his large hands. What would she think of him now? He wanted her to trust him, yet he resorted to violence within the same walls that she’d fallen victim to it. What as wrong with him?

He forced his fingers into his hair, gripping tightly at the root. Gentle fingers pried his hands from the top of his head, and he opened his eyes to see Nesta kneeling before him. Her eyes were lined with silver, but no tears fell. Regardless, he hated himself for being the cause.

With rapt attention, she assessed the damage to his knuckles. She must have deemed them okay enough, lowering his hand to his knee so that she could take his face softly in her hands. He was forced to look into her eyes, his own eyes brimming with tears at the understanding he saw there. Her thumbs stroked each of his cheeks to soothe him, and he closed his eyes to focus on her touch.

“I’m so sorry, Nesta,” he whispered, his voice shaky.

“Don’t you apologize. I thought he was supposed to be gone through Monday. It’s me that put you in this situation.”

Cassian’s hands raised to gently grasp her forearms, his thumbs rubbing delicately at the sensitive skin of her wrists. He opened his eyes to look at her again.

“No. I forced that, too, and all I’ve done now is make a bigger mess for you.”

Her face crumpled at the emotion and self-deprecation in his voice. She pulled his face down to her shoulder, and he wrapped her tightly in a hug as she cradled his head. After several moments, her soft voice sounded through the room.

“Do you know how lucky I am to have someone defend me that way? I’ll never hold that against you, Cass. Never.”

Something in him broke at her words, causing a tear to roll from his eye onto her shirt. Damning everything, their friendship and boundaries included, he turned to tuck his face into the side of her neck.

Nesta’s breath hitched at the feel of his skin against hers. She held him tighter, and he wrapped his arms more snugly around her waist. At some point, she began running her fingers through his wavy hair, and he had to fight back a purr at the action. Her scent combined with the silence of the room seemed to bring Cassian off the ledge, but even so, he was reluctant to let her go.

His heart tugged when he felt her pull away from him, but he was immediately comforted to see that she was merely shifting to be more comfortable. His height meant she was stretched to wrap her arms around his neck with her back arched, and it appeared that the position wasn’t going to work long term. He leaned back slightly to make room, and she slid onto one of his thighs, wrapping an arm around his neck once more. Cassian leaned into her warmth heavily and laced his fingers around her hips.

Eyes locked on the floor in front of him, he felt his darkest confession rising into his throat. The comfort of her wrapped around him gave him the illusion of safety, as if there was nothing off-limits. He took a deep breath to steady his voice as much as possible.

“I could have killed him.”

She was quiet for a moment.

“Okay.” The word was noncommittal, nearly dismissive. That hadn’t been the reaction he expected.

“I tried. I was going to walk away... but when he made it sound like all of this was on you, I don’t know. I snapped.” His voice was starting to lose some of the bravado he’d worked so hard to manage. “If you hadn’t been there, I’m afraid of what I would have done.”

Her free hand cupped his cheek, easing his face toward hers. Her blue eyes were earnest as she spoke. “I’m not. You credit me, but I did nothing to stop you. You pulled yourself away from him, no one else.” Cassian opened his mouth to argue, but she increased the pressure against his cheek. “Your anger is not who you are. It’s a part of you, one you struggle with everyday, but you are so much more. Do you understand?”

Her voice had elements of a reprimand, but her meaning was simple. She wouldn’t tolerate Cassian thinking anything less of himself, and he wasn’t sure he deserved her high opinion. Nesta had left no room for argument, so rather than try, he tucked his face into her neck once more. Her hand fell to the side of his neck, the warmth of it easing his pulse closer to baseline.

His voice was merely a whisper. “There’s very little I wouldn’t do to keep you safe.”

Her thumb rubbed steadying circles against his skin. “I know.”

They held each other for another minute before Nesta finally pulled away from him. “We only have a little while before he shows up. Let’s work your magic on that closet.” She patted his knee for emphasis.

Cassian chuckled, his breaths coming a little easier at her light-hearted shift in attention.

“You sure you can handle it? I would hate to overwhelm your sensibilities.”

Her answer was deadpan, but her half-smile gave her away.

“I think I’ll manage just fine.”

—

They had managed to finish loading the vehicle before Tomas returned, although Cassian had a feeling the man wouldn’t come home until he saw that their car was gone. The ride to Claire’s was quiet, but it was the comfortable kind. Early in the drive, Nesta extended her arm to rest a supportive hand on Cassian’s shoulder, and he didn’t resist leaning into her touch.

Claire was home and prepared to help them unload all of Nesta’s things into her spare room. Cassian wondered if she would be any less candid with him without the alcohol as a buffer, but she was just as warm as the day before. The normalcy of the interaction was exactly what he needed to feel like he’d fully recovered from the earlier conflict.

Nesta staged her things in Claire’s spare room, nice and neat within one of the corners. Once she was finished, the three of them sat around Claire’s small, circular dining room table to share a pizza. Cassian hadn’t noticed how hungry he was until the food was presented, and he felt great affection for his new friend at the sight.

“Will you marry me?” he joked, bringing a slice to his mouth. He offered a wink for good measure.

“Aw, Cass. I’m afraid not.”

Cassian clutched his chest dramatically at her obvious refusal, but he would take the rejection a hundred times over to hear Nesta’s gentle laugh at their antics. He turned his eyes toward hers to see a faint blush on her cheeks, the sheer perfection of her clutching tightly at his chest.

Fuck.

“Speaking of marriage,” Nesta began, “Claire, how do you feel about being my plus one to a wedding in Velaris?”

The woman didn’t hesitate. “I’m there. Whose wedding? And when?”

“Well, that’s the thing. The wedding is next weekend.”

Nesta was wringing her hands at the late notice, and Cassian knew it bothered her to put someone on the spot. Claire didn’t seem the least bit deterred, though.

“I can actually make that work,” she assured her, her mouth full of pizza.

“Perfect!”

Cassian ignored the pang of disappointment at the topic of conversation; it wasn’t as though he and Nesta had any plans to accompany each other to Amren’s wedding. At least Claire being her date was far preferred to her bringing any romantic interest, he thought, and immediately chastised himself for it.

“It’s our friend Amren’s wedding. I’ll book us a room at the hotel so we can stay together. Unless you meet someone, in which case I’ll sleep at Feyre and Rhysand’s house,” Nesta teased.

Claire rolled her eyes. “The whole appeal of going is to spend time with you.”

It was Nesta’s turn to roll her eyes at Claire’s affection, but Cassian saw the gleam in her eye that showed that she was touched. A part of him ached at the idea that she received so little genuine affection and appreciation that it made her sheepish. He wished that he’d always spent this much time seeing her through this lens and paying such close attention.

He could have been so much more for her if he had. May the gods help him if he ever got the chance to be that for her again.

——————————————————————————

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