#yatr

Chapter 5

YOUR POV

Much to our chagrin, traffic jam had caught up right after leaving the hospital premises. Harrison and a sleeping Gabby dropped us off first before heading back to our place. We called out the old guy at the reception who raised a mug of something at us in acknowledgement. My watch read 10:46pm by the time we reached their doorstep. Our dogs’ excited barks could be heard from the other side of the door as Tom wrestled with his keys for a bit.  

“Im telling you, he’ll find a way to do it.” Tom argued, pushing the apartment door open.

“Uhm, no. Cause I know Gabby, once she’s tired, she’s tired. You can’t make her do anything not until you’re bleeding to death that is.” I debated back cheekily.

The traffic seemed to go on for the rest of the night ergo, to past boredom, Tom and I exchanged text messages whether Harrison would be able to pull his plan or won’t, among many other silly things. We still have to keep it under wraps since Gabby still has no idea. “What are you two scowling bout back there?” she asked before falling asleep minutes later.

“Fine! Alright! Let’s just ask Harrison tomorrow!” he exhaled with resignation in his voice.

. I brought a clenched fist and elbow to my knees in a sign of victory.  

“Bloody hell, you don’t give up do you.” He said after a moment, putting everything on the countertop separating the living room and their kitchen.

I wriggled my eyebrows at him. His face contorted for a second to fight the smile from slipping through. He failed.  

“Only for you love.” I said with a laugh, hugging my dog who won’t stop bouncing up at me from the moment we enter the apartment.  

“Whatever… How are you lovely?” he knelt down to give Tessa a smooch on her gray head.  

I filled the pet bowl with water before dragging my body onto the couch, face down with a heavy groan. I hate traffic.

“You wanna hit the shower first or should I?” Tom asked after minutes of shuffling in and out of the room. I propped my chin but kept my eyes closed as I replied.

“Go ahead, I need a second so these cushion could suck me in.” I wiggled my body as if it would dissipate the stiffness of my legs from sitting too long.  

“You know where my room is.” He answered with a small laugh. I heard a creaking noise of the cabinet door then a wisp of wind when he threw something soft and large at my opiate position. I lifted my head when I heard him dematerialized behind the bathroom door.

I scanned the two-bedroom flat from my lying state. It was too tidy for two grown men to live in. Not a crumb or bottles of energy drinks in sight. Perhaps Gabby’s controlling nature had finally rubbed off on Harrison. He and Tom had decided to rent this place from Gabby’s cousin whenever they want to stay a while longer after wrapping up press junkets. Possibly, it was Harrison who wanted to stay longer and Tom being wherever his mate was, would stay until he pleased.

Willing myself to get up, I grabbed my overnight bag and the towel he threw at me to his room, the wall behind the mounted television. Two dogs sniffing happily behind me.  

His room reeked with ocean breeze laundry detergent and embodied late adolescence-ness. I noted the lack of articles of clothing and trainers scattered on the floor, unmade bed and wide open luggage last time I was here. His double bed stood at the center of the room, two end tables on either side and dark clothes hung and were neatly stacked on the exposed clothing rack. 10 pairs of shoes in an orderly pile on the floor.  

Despite the fact that he had let me sleepover a thousand times, I never heeded nor have I ever had the slight urge to interest myself on what he is like in his solidarity. I pride myself to never the one to snoop around. The prevalent awareness of being in his room haven’t bother me. Up until now. Which was the case I found myself in, prancing around his room as if for the first time in an unnamable light.  

His room can’t be categorized as neither pristine nor disorganized. Stuff  that usually don’t go well with each other –not that I know anything about interior styling- somehow complemented and blended with his impulsive personality. His obsession on shameless hoarding of any Spider-man merchandise he could get his hands on endured after all these years. “What a total nerd.” I chuckled to myself, setting down his action figure on the same spot. The red and blue collection disparate from the gray overall theme of the room. Letters and artworks from his fans were all compiled inside three black dossiers.  

I was lazily lugging my index finger on his dust-free shelf, along the lines of books and photographs of his family, co-star photo calls, sceneries when a solid wooden framed picture halted me in my tracks.  

Memories gushed in an unstoppable wave. The picture was cropped from the chest and up. I snapped this shot right after the first successful jumping obstacles I finished with my mare. We’re smiling. His cheek pressed onto mine, his other eye was squinting in order to avoid the harsh glare of the sun and my face reddened with sweat and excitement in his riding helmet. My arm was draped around his shoulders while the other extended the camera to fit us in the frame. I remembered  hurriedly leapt down to Tom, who was already reaching out for me before my booted feet even touched the damp ground. I remembered stalling in his embrace, his body radiated as if he had somehow swallowed the whole sun, his thumbs that were drawing circles on my hips, pushing down the hitch emanating from my throat. I remembered how I  together with his family went to their lake house later in the evening, his dad, stood by my side, with one comforting and familiar arm on my blanket-ed shoulders, staring ahead the setting day had said, out of the blue:

“Sometimes it’s practical to test waters first cause no one wants to dive in murky water, knowing whether we’ll hit the rocks or sand. But this day..” he trailed off, smiling and shaking his head. “He may be daft sometimes but thank you for sticking by him. Thank you for everything you’ve done. Thank you for making him happy.”  

Before I could even ask Senior Holland to elaborate, an added weight made the docks screech in slight objection. Tom trudged to where we were, my bottled juice in hand. Frankly, I momentarily lost contact with my body, with my surroundings upon seeing his delightful face, how his curls bounced voluptuously like he’d just been prepped for some bloody movie minutes ago.  

All these years, I  try not to abide on what would  happen if Tom and I just.. that maybe we could… I shook my head to eliminate the thought that’s been trying to eat me ever since once upon a time. 

Tom’s POV 

We were left to ourselves. Again., I think Harrison and his girlfriend liked to do this on purpose. There's a part of me wanted to strangle them both for doing this, albeit, the half part wanted to get down on my knees and hug them both with praise and reverence, saying "I owe you, big time."  

I turned the shower knob off and quickly dressed in a shirt and sweats. I walked out into an empty and barely lit hall. The only evidence of her presence was her dog sitting outside my slightly open bedroom door. I patted his furry head before I knocked gently. She was not the one to get un-clothe with the door left ajar so I peeked inside when I didn't hear a response. She was leaning on my table, holding a picture frame in her hands, and the other clutching the desk. She didn't look up until I spoke.  

"Hey, everything ok?"  

She seemed startled for a swift second before smiling at me and waving the frame in her hands.

"I had no idea you printed and framed this."  

"It was a good day. I should dare you more often." I went to her side, brushing against her as I lean over to look at the picture. I crossed my arms over myself to hide the goosebumps running from the tip of my fingers up to the hairs on my neck.  

"Yeah. Really was." She sighed then locked her gaze with mine. I hugged myself even tighter, my fingers dug into my palms to keep from pulling her and crashing my lips to hers.. Heaven knows how badly I wanted no, needed to kiss her. But I’m waiting for her. Waiting for something to cross her eyes that will somehow tell me that she wants this just as bad as I do. I do not want to come across as one of those hot-blooded exes of hers who tried to force her to do something  she does not like. But it’s me, I try to tell her with my eyes. I will never hurt you. . I hugged myself tighter to keep my heart from sprinting out of my chest as the moment of pure electricity stretched between us.  

Until it wasn't anymore.

"I uhh.. Need to.... Take a bathe." She mumbled and broke her gaze. She handed me the frame and walked away. If she was nervous or felt at least something, she’s hiding it extraordinarily. I could feel my cheeks as they started to redden. She stopped at the door and crouched down in a playful defensive stance against her dog who wagged its tail gleefully. We let out short laughs before she disappeared.

I hung my head to the ceiling and I swear I could hear Harrison say  “Youre the world’s greatest idiot..” I groaned.

I couldn’t sleep. My mind has not accustomed with Harrison’s four walls of a bedroom for the past two hours.. Every time she and Gabby would come over, I’ll let her have my bed like the perfect gentleman that I was raised. I didn’t mind the couch nor Harrison’s bed because I knew my sheets would smell like her for the remainder of the week and I would wake up in the morning and bury my face in the pillow. A sweet torture.  

I fluffed Harrison's pillow to try to make myself more comfortable. Laying like a starfish on the bed and stared up the ceiling, my mind recalling one type of conversation that  had always seem to play out every morning whenever we were alone together..

The couple would show up, their elbows leaning on the countertop, hyperexcitable faces on the palm of their hands, kind of like children waiting for their slices of chocolate cake.

"So...... Did you do it?"  

I kept quiet while rummaging the kitchen for  her favorite breakfast. Eyes never leaving my task. But shook my head.. "Nah. Wasn't the right time."

"Oh c'mon man!" Harrison exclaimed, dropping his head  on the countertop in between in forearms.  

"Alright Osterfield ,  hand it over ." Gabby opened and closed the back of her hands. Harrison produced a 20 dollar bill from his wallet to give her.  

“You guys are the worst. I hope you know that.” I scowled under my breath.

"Thanks H olland " She patted me on my naked back..

"Man! How can you chicken out on me like that, you said you're gonna tell her last night....or the night of last week..... or the fortnight......or the months before that."  He whined,  Emphasizing each time frame then   his forearms inching  dangerously near the breakfast I'm making. I moved the plate out of the way and my eyes darted cautiously on my bedroom door. Checking for any signs or sounds of movement.

I shrugged, frowning.  

"As much as I like winning against Haz, dude, you have to make a move. That window's not gonna be open forever.  Take that hunky actor from GQ for example.”  

“What? Who?” I snapped my head at her. I tried to sound less nervous and irritated but even to my own ears, I knew I came up short.  

“I forgot his name . But we saw him at Jamba juice last week and the punk’s leaning a bit closer, in my opinion.”  she shrugged

"She doesn't like me that way." I countered, hoping to get the melancholy disappointment out of my voice. Eyes still casted down.

"She likes you. Everyone with eyes can see it. You're just both too stubborn to admit it." Gabby retorted, before gulping down a carton of orange juice.    

“Why? Did she tell you anything ?” I deadpanned but a little hopeful.  

"Actions, Holland. Actions. They speak louder than words, like the song, dumbass." She had an elbow leaning on the counter at my side as she regarded me with slight irk and concern.

"But no... She doesn't tell me anything. You know she's always been like that, bottling up her feelings til she knows she can hold it."  She placed  the cap back on her carton box.

"Well then, i  think i'll  just wait for that bottle to spill."

"Tom." Harrison interrupted in a quiet tone that I finally   looked at him.

"You know she's not her right?. They're both, different. This is a new story. It's gonna be different this time around. You're not running blindly here, not this time." Harrison was never soft spoken  and sober , not unless he could help it.

"Maybe we'll just lock you guys up in here for a week and then maybe we'll see. Don't make me do it." Gabby remarked, staring at the something behind me  

"Don't make you do what?" Our heads frantically turned to the sound by my bedroom door. Dressed in a sleeveless loose top and pyjama  bottoms, her bedridden hair falling on her shoulders, the palm of her hand digging on his left eye.  Her healthy skin glowed along with the morning sun. Eyes still glossy from sleep and puffy lips pouted adoringly. It's almost impossible to be that alluring  during this early hour in the morning.  

"Hey!!!!! Good morning sunshine! Did you just wake up?" Gabby asked, a little too cheerfully, three of us following her every movement.

"Um yeah. I didn't even hear you guys come in. How was your night?" She sat on the bar stool in front of me and Gabby, Harrison seated on the stool by her side then faced his body towards her, chin leaning on his shoulder. I exhaled a great sigh of relief, our kitchen conversation safe from her ears.

"It was fantastic …” Gabby said in a haste, “ , by the way, I heard you got drunk last night?"  

"I did. And I'm never doing it again." She moaned, pressing her forehead on the cold counter, arms folded in front of her.

"Here you go." I pushed the garnished plate in her direction and the glass of juice.

She smiled, "You're brilliant. Did I ever tell you that?." pulling the plate near her.  

Gabby made a tsk sound then walked back round to the couch. Harrison grabbed the ripe banana off of her plate before jumping out of his seat.  

"Hey! That's mine!" She leapt up abruptly but regretted it in an instant. She grunted, dropping her head onto the surface again.

"You're a buffoon." I threw the dish towel resting on my shoulder at Harrison's figure who hustled out of the way. I hand her another.

"Don't you just love them?!" She mumbled under her breath, sarcastically

"Oh and would you mind putting some shirt on Holland, she and Haz may  be used to it, but I'm not besides it's completely unhygienic." She instructed, flinging the shirt I discarded upon waking up from the armrest.  

"You tell me." I chuckled, putting my shirt on.  

It didn’t take long before I became conscious of her little quirks: the way she would pinch her lips when she’s trying to decide about something, how she likes to pop her knuckles that always seem to creep out Harrison and how she always find something nice to say about mean people. Something about her just felt…right; like everything seems to fall into place whenever she’s near.  

My body almost jumped when I felt the incessant and loud ring of my phone on the bedside table.. I clicked answer right away .

"You still up?"  

"No." I kid.

"Idiot. I Can't sleep." She sighed.

"Me neither. What are you doing?"

"Reading one of your books"

"What book?" I got up and leaned against the headboard.

She laughed. "You know we can just talk to each other, You're literally just across the hall.

"Ok, let's meet."

I hurriedly put on my shirt and walked out the door. She's already on her way to the fridge when I appeared in the kitchen.

"I'm hungry. How come you don't have anything here?" She complained and closed the fridge door behind her.

"Well, we're always at your place anyway."  

"Urgh! Let's order pizza. You're paying." She picked up the phone line in  the living room and dialed.

I made my way to the couch and will my body  to heel before I do something I will regret. Like, I don't know, maybe kissing the day lights out of her until I die from deoxygenation..  

"Hey you wanna watch a movie?" I initiated, grabbing the remote from the floor.

12:47am

"You know what? Fine fine! Let's just watch The Breakfast Club and we'll see who's right." She retorted, getting up from the sofa and inserting the dvd on the player, a slice of pizza dangling from her mouth.

"You're gonna be so bummed out when I win the fourth time today." Putting my hands behind my head and stretching my feet under the blanket we shared on the couch. It's already 2 am and All attempts of falling asleep diminished after indulging on a box of pizza, 2 bags of chips and 4 cans of root beers. My previous jitters had died down to a embers as we fell back into an amiable and platonic routine.

"Ha-ha! Move." She sneered jabbing my foot with her finger.  

I scooched over backwards for her to settle comfortably on the opposite side her. She rested her head on the armrest. Her sock clad feet lying near my stomach, I boldly closed my hand around them.  

We watched in silence for the rest of the movie until we got to the part at the end where Claire gives John his diamond earring.

"See! I told you, I told you! It was an earring not a ring." I sat up and gestured towards the screen. "Oi yow Pizza!" When I didn't hear or feel a slightest of movement I extended my arm on the floor, half my body still sitting on the couch and look at her. I must have known she had dozed off. Her even breaths were calm and soothing halfway through the movie, her face appeared pallid against the television screen. I got up as gently as I could and sat on the floor, over her side. I watched her for a little while, memorizing the way her shutted eyes would twitch every few seconds, her long eyelashes fanned out attractively across her features, her pouted lips carnation in color. I saw a crease formed at the center of her eyebrows and felt a lump clogging my throat. "What are you dreaming about?" I whispered. I reached an index finger to carefully smoothen it out, and lingered.  

"I swear, you'll be the death of me. " Before I could help myself, i pressed a feathered kiss to her forehead in replace of my finger.

8:17 am

I felt more than heard the sound of barely audible mumbles as it vibrated from my chest. I squinted my eyes open to see panting smiles from two dogs and instantly became aware of the soft weight nesting on my chest. I don't remember sleeping in this position earlier in the morning but damn it to bloody hell, I wasn't complaining.  

I or she must have moved positions during our sleep because now, on this glorious Sunday morning, our bodies lie snugly on the sofa, both my arms around her, one of her hands rested underneath my shirt, atop the unsteady thumps of my heart. Her head on my shoulder.  Blanket still draped over us.

"Want. Pancakes." She mumbled, eyes still closed.

A chuckle crept up onto my already- smiling face. I never knew she talked in her sleep as we've had never been in this position before. I stayed still for quite some time, careful to maintain our position in case she woke up and assess the situation with regret or something . It Could be minutes or hours;. I lapsed the ability to comprehend anything right now as I committed this moment to memory

The smell of her hair dominate the entire room, happily suffocating me to my death.  

Or How every inch of her molded perfectly into mine; her breathing patterns almost lulling me back to sleep

Or How her warmth masked and overpower my senses, making me forget to think, to breathe.  

A nagging thought entered my mind that I was, in a way, taking advantage of her slumberous state, and was about to separate my body from hers but was snapped out if it when I heard her next words. Making my world rattle to smithereens then build back up again.

"Mmmm.. I like you Tom.”  

I looked down on her to see if she’s woken. It probably meant anything that I hope to be but still, I couldn't fight the grin that jeopardizes to split my face in half or the euphoria openly transuding over my skin. I pressed my lips on her forehead and slowly pulled her even tighter. And i could die right after this, because she shifted closer- if that was still even possible-and lightly scratched her fingers on my bare and beating pectoral. 

Nesta had spent the afternoon dressing herself up only to spend her evening sitting on her bed. She still had on her black, thigh length dress and her slick pumps. Her long hair was straight and sleek, her makeup done perfectly.

All dressed up and nowhere to go.

Nowhere she wanted to go, anyway.

The morning had been spent in agony as she convinced herself to meet up with her friends, some which she hadn’t seen in years. But she couldn’t go through with it. She couldn’t face him, not after what she had done.

A horn blared from her driveway.

Nesta groaned.

She had told her youngest sister, multiple times, that she’d be staying home, but Feyre wasn’t one to give up so easily.

“Nesta!” she yelled, banging on the door a minute later. “Get your ass out here! We’re late!”

Nesta didn’t move. Instead, she went to her wine cabinet and pulled out a bottle of peach moscato. After pouring herself a glass while Feyre threatened to break down her door, she settled in on her couch in the silence.

She wouldn’t go.

She wouldn’t see him.

She wouldn’t put herself through such torture. She would be a fool if she did.

“Go away!” She called.

The banging stopped. Feyre said, “You’re going to regret this.”

“Maybe so,” Nesta muttered to herself, taking a gulp from her glass.

“Fine,” Feyre announced, at last. “Fine.”

With that, footsteps padded off the front porch and Nesta took a deep breath.

A night to herself. That’s what she needed. Not that it was different from most nights.

A glass of wine later, while she was working on her second, Nesta began to feel that regret.

What if I did go? Would he have even wanted to see me? I doubt it. He’s probably glad I’m not there. I would be, if I were him.

After her second glass, she began to feel furious.

I shouldn’t feel bad. Who does Feyre think she is, showing up here, banging on my door, trying to guilt me into seeing my ex? He’s my ex for a reason. We’re not meant to be friends. We’re not meant to be anything, not anymore.

After her third, the silence became deafening.

I haven’t seen him in years. I hope he’s doing okay. He deserves that. The best.

The bottle was empty before Nesta grabbed her clutch and headed out the front door of her townhouse. She stumbled into the driveway and behind the wheel of her little black car.

Regret, she thought. I won’t regret anything.

Nesta didn’t remember driving to the bar on the corner, but she somehow managed to make it there without issue. She stared at the bright neon lights before taking a deep breath and getting out, her heels hitting the cracked cobblestone.

A man she didn’t know opened the door for her, and as she stepped through the threshold, she suddenly sobered.

The fuzziness in her mind went away, her vision cleared, her body felt full of lead.

She saw him.

He was just as he remembered. Familiar. And yet, he was a stranger.

His hair was down, still long, which she had always been fond of. His shoulders were broader, and they were no longer covered in the flannel or the tshirts he used to wear.

His ratty old boots had been replaced by brown, leather dress shoes. His jeans had no holes. His button down was designer.

Nesta blinked.

She wasn’t sure she was seeing it right. Wasn’t sure she was seeing him right.

Nesta could barely place one foot in front of the other, could barely calm her rapidly beating heart.

But she did.

She strode to the corner of the bar where her old high school friends, and her sisters, stood.

Elain gasped as she approached, rushing into her arms. “It’s about time you came out with us!”

Nesta didn’t respond. She was still shocked, all while wondering what the hell she was doing. The wine was no longer controlling her. Now, it was just her. And she wasn’t ready for this.

Feyre gave her a wink before shoving a cold glass bottle into her hand. “I knew you’d come.”

“Hey,” Rhysand said, coming up behind Feyre. “Good to see you, Nesta.”

“You too,” she replied.

Azriel gave her a polite nod. “We were hoping you’d join us.”

Nesta nodded.

Cassian didn’t say a word. He eyed her heels, then her legs, her dress, until his eyes settled on hers.

Nesta couldn’t breathe. No, she wasn’t ready. This was not the boy she had fallen in love with at seventeen. This was a man, a man she hadn’t seen in years, a man whose heart she had broken.

“You look good,” he said, at last.

Puberty had been kind to him, too.

His deep voice rumbled, leaving an ache in the pit of her stomach.

“Thanks,” she said. “You too.”

Rhysand cleared his throat. “Well, I vote Azriel and Elain for karaoke.”

Azriel barked a laugh. “Yeah. No.”

Elain pleaded with her puppy dog eyes.

Nesta was glad her sisters were both so happy. She’d known Elain had missed Azriel. When she was around him, she came alive. It was good to have him home.

The gang continued their festivities. They caught up, yelling above the music and the people around them.

Nesta said nothing.

Cassian kept pretty quiet, too, sneaking glances her way every few minutes.

“What have you been up to these days, Nes?” Cassian asked, after a while, making everyone look in Nesta’s direction.

Nesta hesitated.

It had been a long time since she had heard that name, from that mouth.

“Oh, I-,” she began, “I work at a vet clinic. I’m an intern.”

“You’re a vet student?” Cassian asked, brows raised.

When Nesta didn’t answer, Elain spoke up. “She’s the top in her class with one year left to go.”

“Yes,” Feyre agreed, “we’re very proud of our Nesta.”

Nesta rolled her eyes and actually almost laughed. “Thanks.”

“How about you?” Feyre asked. “What’s Cass been doing the last three years?”

He stayed quiet for a minute. “I dropped out.”

Everyone went quiet.

“What?” Nesta said. “You talked about college for so long! That was your dream! You got a scholarship -”

“I got hurt,” he said, shrugging. “My shoulder. I couldn’t play anymore. So, I dropped out realizing I had no back up plan for my life, and I’m taking some time off. I work at a tattoo parlor. I manage it. Do all the business stuff. My cousin is an artist there and put in a good word for me.”

“That’s great, Cass,” Feyre said, smiling. “We’re all really happy for you.”

They all went on with their night, all except for Nesta. He had dropped out. He had worked his entire life for that football scholarship, and he’d just given it all up.

Perhaps it was the newfound liquid coursing through her system, but when he walked out of the bar and into the hallway, she followed him.

Cassian stopped just shy of the men’s room door and sighed, his shoulders sagging. “What do you want, Nes?”

She remembered him saying those words to her when they were seventeen. Those words haunted her, far too often.

Unlike the last time, this time she had a response. “You just gave up?”

His eyes clouded with a familiar anger. “I didn’t give up, Nesta, I was hurt.”

“You still could have gotten a degree!” she yelled, throwing her hands in the air. “Gotten a job you loved!”

Cassian’s lips twisted into a cruel smile. “Why does it matter to you, sweetheart, what I do with my life?

“Because you’re throwing your life away,” she scowled.

“Last time I checked, you threw me away a long time ago so I don’t see how you have any say in my business,” he snapped.

The words hit deep. She felt it. He saw it.

If it wasn’t for her puking all over his beautiful, fancy shoes, she would have said something else she would have surely regretted.

~~~~

Cassian didn’t say anything after that.

Instead, he took a deep breath and walked into the men’s room.

Nesta fled.

She ran out of the door, ignoring her sisters’ protests, and locked herself in her car in the back of the parking lot.

It had been a long time since Nesta Archeron cried, and although she tried to convince the tears to fall, nothing came.

She felt nothing. She hadn’t felt anything in years.

Perhaps the tiniest bit of embarrassment, which quickly turned into anger.

She didn’t care that he’d dropped out of school, even if he did always dream of getting his degree.

Dreams changed. Nesta’s had.

She didn’t know why she had blown up at him, didn’t know why it bothered her so much.

Maybe it was because he had moved on, long ago. She knew nothing about him anymore. She know nothing about his life, or what he wanted for his future.

All she knew was that his future didn’t involve her, and that was her fault.

And, for some reason, after all those years, that still bothered her.

~~~~

Cassian got back to his family’s old lakeside cottage and flopped himself down on the couch. He had seen Nesta for less than an hour and it still went horribly. She was intoxicated, they both were, that much was obvious, but he still shouldn’t have fought with her.

He doesn’t blame her for puking on his shoes after what he’d said.

Although, she was completely out of line.

They hadn’t spoken in years, she had no right to say what she did, to act like she gave a damn about his life.

But for some reason, he felt guilty.

He had dropped out and taken a new route in life, and he was happy. He wasn’t sure where he was going, but he was perfectly fine with where he was at.

A summer in his hometown was exactly what he needed to think. To plan. To meditate.

All of that would be a lot easier if she wasn’t around. The moment he saw her, it all came rushing back. It had been years, but those years hadn’t been long enough. He still hadn’t healed from his first love. There was still an ache in his chest when he thought about her, and when he saw her walk into the bar, he felt sick.

She had pushed him away, and he had fought and fought to keep her, but eventually he surrendered.

He gave up.

A part of him went missing that day, a part that he had never filled.

His love.

His friend.

Now, she was a different person. A woman, no longer a girl. She was still so bitter, so angry. She had never healed, from any of it.

And maybe it was his fault. Maybe it was his fault because he didn’t fight for her longer. He had given up on her, just like she had given up on herself.

He shouldn’t have left. He should have kept fighting.

Because somewhere within that battle with herself, she had lost, and she had never found her way back.

She had always been rude and a tad pessimistic, but she used to have a light in her eyes and a soft spot for him. When he had seen her hours before, when she looked at him….there was nothing. Her eyes were empty. There was nothing in her that reminded him of the girl he used to love.

It was like she was a stranger.

Nor had she thought about her father’s passing, not once.

She wouldn’t allow it. Wouldn’t allow the emotions that would flood her mind if she did.

“I don’t know why you don’t just talk to him.”

“Huh?”

Feyre chuckled. “You’re obviously thinking about him.”

Nesta didn’t respond.

“He still cares.”

“He felt sorry for me,” Nesta mumbled. “He hasn’t tried to talk to me since. I’d say he’s ignoring me.”

“You can say it all you want but it doesn’t make it true.”

Nesta sighed. She was over thinking it. She had been over thinking it for a week.

Elain strolled through the door of the cafe, Azriel in tow. They had been inseparable since his return, and Nesta had to admit that she loved seeing Elain so at ease.

Although, he would be leaving at the end of the Summer to return to school, and Elain would remain in Velaris.

Feyre watched Nesta as she sipped her latte. “Cassian’s only here for two months, Nes.”

Nesta narrowed her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Feyre shrugged. “It’s now or never.”

Nesta didn’t ask her to elaborate. Instead, she pushed back her chair with a screeeech and stomped to the cafe’s bathroom.

She locked the door behind her and leaned against the cool metal. When she closed her eyes, she saw his face. It had been haunting her for the past week, his mischevious grin and lovely hazel eyes.

He had helped her, but it hadn’t made much of a difference. It didn’t mean anything to him. He had only helped because of their history.

Nesta felt ridiculous for even caring.

She took her phone from her sweater’s pocket, found his name, and stared at it. Before she thought on it too much, she pressed his name with her thumb.

And waited.

She felt like the other line rang forever before he answered. “Hello?”

“Hey,” she began, slowly. “Um, hi. What are you doing?”

He chuckled. “Just at home. What are you doing?”

She cleared her throat. “Are you busy tonight?”

A pause. “No. Are you?”

“No,” she answered.

There was a pause before Cassian asked, “Are you trying to get me to ask you out for tonight?”

“No! No. Um, no, I just - I was -”

Cassian laughed. “I’ll pick you up at seven?”

Nesta’s cheeks burned. “Seven sounds good.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

He hung up.

Nesta was mortified, although she wasn’t sure why. She couldn’t believe she had acted like such an idiot. It’s not like she had never talked to him before. It’s not like she had never seen him naked.

Or, maybe that was the issue.

After a deep breath, Nesta returned to the table occupied by her sister. She had seven hours. Seven hours of pure agony. Seven hours to change her mind.

~~

Cassian stood on her front porch.

He had already knocked three times, but she hadn’t answered.

But her car was in the driveway. He knew she was inside.

“Nesta!” he yelled.

Nothing.

He should’ve seen it coming. He wasn’t surprised. He shouldn’t have answered her call earlier.

“Okay!” he called. “I’m leaving!”

The door swung open just as the words flew out of his mouth.

He stopped.

She wore a navy blue dress that hugged her waist and fell to her knees. Her arms were bare, her chest exposed. Her hair was braided in a crown.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Cassian said, quietly. “You look beautiful.”

She gave him a nod before pulling her door shut. “Where are you taking me?”

“Well,” Cassian began, running his fingers through his hair. “You’re the one that asked me out, so.”

“I did not,” Nesta said. Then, “Fine. We’ll go downtown.”

“Good. I know a place.”

Nesta arched a brow before brushing past him, toward his truck.

Cassian let out a breath.

He had a long night ahead of him.

The ride to the center of Velaris was quiet. Nesta stared out of the passenger side window for the entirety of the ride, leaving Cassian to quietly whistle to himself. He attempted asking her a few courtesy questions which she didn’t respond.

Five minutes in, he gave up.

After ten minutes of silence, he parallel parked next to the Sidra. After the engine was turned off, he asked, “Ready?”

Without answering, Nesta hopped out and slammed the truck door behind her.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Cassian mumbled before following her lead.

The sun had set and the stars were out. Cassian loved summer in Velaris. The air smelled fresh, the scenery breathtaking along the Sidra.

Lights sparkled from the local shops and restaurants.

“Hungry?” Cassian asked.

“Yes,” Nesta replied, curtly.

“Where do you wanna eat?”

“I don’t care,” she replied.

“Okay,” Cassian began, slowly. “Well, we could go to Rita’s. I know you love Rita’s.”

“I haven’t eaten there in years,” she said.

“Is that a yes or a no?” Cassian asked. “That’s fine.”

Cassian shoved his hands into his pockets. Thankfully, Rita’s wasn’t a long walk from where he parked.

“Table for two,” Cassian told the hostess.

She smiled. “Of course. Follow me.”

They did so, of course, in silence.

Once they sat down, Cassian instantly dug his nose into his menu.

Nesta didn’t pick it up. She looked out of the window by their table, out at the Sidra.

“Okay,” Cassian said, tossing his menu onto the table. “What the hell are we doing here?”

Nesta blinked, looking at him for the first time. “Excuse me?”

“You obviously don’t want to be here, so what are we doing?” he snapped.

A couple sitting near them glanced at them uncomfortably before Nesta sighed. “I-”

When nothing else came from her mouth, Cassian shook his head. “I’m not hungry. I’ll take you home.”

“Stop,” Nesta snapped.

“Stop what?” Cassian asked, exasperated. “We’ve been together for half an hour and we’re already fighting! Why did you call?”

“What?” Nesta asked.

“Why did you call me this morning? Was this some sort of test? A new form of your famous manipulation?”

Nesta looked down at the table where her folded hands sat neatly atop the porcelain.

Cassian stood abruptly before Nesta demanded, “Wait.”

Cassian did so.

Nesta took a deep breath. “You didn’t call.”

“What?”

“After ...last week. You didn’t call.”

Cassian blinked. “Was I supposed to? You haven’t exactly been my biggest fan since I’ve been back.”

Nesta said nothing, a look of pain crossing over her features.

Cassian noticed that the other couple had left. They had the room to themselves, now, and although Cassian felt bad for ruining the remainder of their dinner, he was glad they no longer had an audience. “You dumped me, remember? I fought for you, and you gave up.”

“Then why help me?” Nesta snapped, rising to her feet and meeting his gaze. “Why did you help me? Why did you come find me in the field by the lake? Why take me back to your house?”

“Because I care, Nesta!” he yelled. Nesta’s face fell slack. “Your dad had just died and you needed somebody! For once, you were letting me be that somebody!”

“I don’t need anybody,” she scoffed. “I’ve been doing just fine on my own for years now.”

“But you don’t have to,” Cassian said, lowering his voice. “You don’t have to do everything on your own, Nes. It’s okay to let other people help. To let other people love you.”

Nesta sat back down in her chair. Once Cassian had managed to control his temper, he joined her from across the table.

“That’s why I called,” Nesta said, at last, before picking up her menu and scanning the specials.

Cassian knew when Nesta was done with a conversation, so he ignored the voices shouting at her from within his mind and looked down at his menu.

~~

Nesta couldn’t think straight. They had both had one too many to drink.

As if she was attempting to forget how much she was blowing the entire evening - which is exactly what she was doing - she continued to drink to avoid Cassian’s piercing gaze from across the candlelit table along the Sidra at Rita’s.

And if he was trying to ignore what a shitty evening he was having alongside her, he drank, too.

The hostess had called them a cab which they had both tossed themselves into, giggling and making jokes that the driver definitely did not find humorous.

“Do you remember prom night?” Cassian asked.

Nesta snorted. “I remember you falling off the stage after one too many drinks from the spiked punch. Which the entire senior class can thank you and Rhys for.”

Cassian laughed for a few seconds too long. “You looked so hot that night.”

“And tonight?” Nesta asked, all laughter fading away.

Cassian’s eyes darkened, sultrily. “I think you already know the answer to that question.”

Nesta grinned. “I like to hear it coming from you.”

The driver cursed. “Can you two wait until I drop you off?”

Nesta’s heart was beating wildly. She had taken many lovers over the years, but none made her feel the way he did: completely alive, living on the edge of wild desire. None compared to her first love.

“Stay with me tonight,” Nesta said.

Cassian didn’t reply, but she had all the answer she needed in his hazel eyes.

He reached up to her, sloppily, and brushed her golden-brown hair out of her face.

The cab abruptly stopped at the curb in front of Nesta’s townhouse.

The cab driver sighed. “Alas, your destination awaits.”

Nesta giggled as she toppled out of the cab, Cassian just behind her.

His fingers danced along the small of her back as they walked up to her front porch, and by the time Nesta’s key had turned the lock, both hands were wrapped around her waist.

Cassian shut the door quietly behind him, just before he grabbed Nesta by the waist, pulled her nearer, and pressed her up against the wood.

His mouth found hers, hungrily, and she did not protest.

His tongue was far more skilled than she remembered, as were the placement of his hands and whatever was firming through his jeans against her thigh.

Nesta gasped when his mouth found her neck, leaning her head back against the front door.

“Bedroom,” she moaned, “table, couch, anywhere. Hell, the door is fine.”

Cassian pulled back, just far enough for Nesta to catch the scent of whiskey on his breath. Calloused fingers found the strap of her dress and pulled one shoulder down, then the other. His hips held her up, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, just above his jeans.

“Cassian,” she whispered. “I want you. I want this.”

Cassian froze as his eyes connected with hers.

“What?” she asked, and her head felt dizzy as he closed his eyes. “Cassian, what?”

He set her down on the welcome mat and took a step back, running his fingers through his hair. “I don’t want this. Not like this. I don’t want you to regret this, to regret me, in the morning.”

“Cassian, I would never-”

“I’m sorry,” he said, and she saw the regret in his eyes as he stepped around her and reached for the doorknob.

Nesta didn’t say a word as he let himself out and shut the door behind him, leaving Nesta alone, staring at the wall with her dress half on.