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Cassian shifts slightly in his seat, pushing a hand up and through his hair and wincing slightly when his fingers tangle in the knots there. He drops his hand back to his lap, mentally reprimanding himself about his fraying nerve endings, but it’s not long before all that pent up energy manifests in the form of a bouncing knee. He sighs softly and shifts again, praying he at least appears more nonchalant than he feels, that the swirl of emotions threatening to bubble over aren’t as readable on his face.
It’s weird being back in this building, being back on this floor. At least, he’s waiting in a different part of the bustling office, but Cassian knows that if he leans forward enough in his seat, he’ll be able to see the tiny office that’s three doors down from the elevators. With the single window that looks out at the building across the street. With the chip in the bottom corner of the door from where it slammed against a chair leg. With the office chair that definitely doesn’t fit two no matter how many times he tried it.
"Cassian."
Even just his name scrapes and prickles along his skin like a lover’s caress, and Cassian has to swallow hard around the roar of emotion that sound elicits. It brings back too many memories, a flood of them crashing behind his eyes unwarranted and promising a death by drowning. All those times he’s heard his name fall from those same lips, from that same voice.
Although, in all his memories, the tone isn’t quite so clipped, so jilted. The days where his name was a soft whisper are long gone now, and that thought stings more than any memory. A deep breath in, and slowly, Cassian looks up until he finally sees her.
Nesta Archeron.
If there’s one thing that hasn’t changed from his memories, it’s how beautiful she looks. Her icy blue stare still cuts down right to Cassian’s soul, still seems to glitter even under the harsh office fluorescent lights overhead. Her face is still all sharp angles, all high cheekbones, and though she’s wearing makeup, Cassian can still trace exactly where every freckle smattered across her nose. He knows that when she lets her hair down from the tight braid she still seems to prefer, that those golden brown strands will trail all the way down to her waist. He knows that though she looks amazing in the pencil skirt and blazer she’s wearing, she probably still prefers to lounge around her apartment in oversized tees.
It used to be his tees that she preferred to wear.
Cassian can’t help but wonder if she has someone else’s clothes to steal now. Perhaps clothes that don’t have fading letters or worn hems from too many washes. The idea plants itself firmly in Cassian’s mind and sends a crack ricocheting between his ribs and through his heart. A crack he long thought he’d patched up, but of course, it was always shoddy work when he really thought about it. There never was any repairing the shattered mess left after Nesta walked out of his life.
There never will be.
Nesta raises an eyebrow at him, her expression one of exasperated expectancy, and Cassian realizes a second too late that he’s been sitting here silent, practically gaping at her, when he’s meant to be responding. He clears his throat awkwardly, standing up and tugging on his leather jacket sleeves just to give his hands something to do. It still doesn’t help that too nervous energy, or the ache now carved deep in his chest from seeing Nesta all these months later.
"Thanks for agreeing to see me," Cassian finally says.
Nesta only nods her head before turning on her heel, leaving Cassian to follow behind her into her office. Her new office. His eyes sweep over the space, the large windows that overlook the river, the large desk and the two chairs neatly set in front of it. Just like her old office, everything is neat and organized, just the smallest hint of personalization in the form of framed photos on her desk. Cassian spies a new photo of Nesta with her sisters at what looks like Feyre’s college graduation, and a photo of Nesta with Gwyn and Emerie at her twenty-first birthday. It’s a photo Cassian himself took.
"So, new office?" Cassian comments lightly.
"I got a promotion," Nesta explains, stepping back behind her desk and settling into her office chair.
"That’s amazing."
"I think we’d both prefer if we skipped the small talk and just got to whatever is so important you couldn’t tell me over the phone."
Cassian scoffs at the dismissive tone, but he settles into one of the seats opposite Nesta’s desk. "I didn’t want to do this over the phone because I didn’t want you to have the chance to hang up on me when I asked you for a favor."
Nesta sighs, already pulling her notepad toward her and grabbing a pen. "What kind of trouble did you get yourself into this time? No guarantees I can bail you out."
"Very funny, but no," Cassian shoots back dryly. "I need you to come home with me for the holidays."
The way the pen falls from between Nesta’s fingers and bounces off the yellow paper of her notepad is almost comical. She blinks once. Twice. Before her lips pinch in a scowl that Cassian is all too familiar with.
"What," Nesta mutters darkly, not even a question.
"I need you to come home with me for the holidays. My mother is expecting us both."
"Did she forget that we’re no longer together?"
"Well…" Cassian grimaces, already bracing for the worst. "I haven’t exactly told her we broke up."
"What?"
"I couldn’t break her heart like that," Cassian jumps in to argue. "My mother loves you. She practically considers you her own daughter. So, I’ve just been quietly avoiding the topic all this time until last week when she called and was all ‘when are you and Nesta coming?’ and ‘I can’t wait to see Nesta. You never bring her home enough.’"
"And you didn’t think then was a good time to tell her?" Nesta practically seethes, leaning across her desk to glare at him.
"What part of I couldn’t break her heart don’t you get? Nes, please. It’s only for a few days."
"Don’t call me that."
"Fine. Nesta. Please. Do you want me to beg?"
Nesta leans back in her seat, crossing her arms across her chest. "I wouldn’t be opposed to it."
"You always did love the sight of me on my knees for you, didn’t you?"
The suggestive comment is out of Cassian's mouth before he can stop it, and for a moment, that charged energy that’s thrummed between them since the moment they met returns. For a moment, he’s back at that first day of classes, back in that lecture hall where he spotted Nesta sitting near the front rows of chairs. He can still remember the way she took his breath away from the second he laid eyes on her, can still remember that adorable scowl that took over her face when he settled into the seat next to her and boldly struck up a conversation.
He can still remember the way that Nesta rose to every one of his challenges, answering every one of his teasing or suggestive comments with a retort of her own, a fire burning to meet his until they were entangled twin flames dancing to some music between their souls. He can still remember when he finally wore Nesta down enough to finally agree to a date with him, the first night that he kissed her, and that was that. Cassian had thought that would be it for them.
It was certainly it for him.
Nesta would always be it for him.
Cassian clears his throat, clearing his thoughts right along with it. Slowly, he slides from his chair until his knees hit the carpet. For extra good measure, he clasps his hands together, and he swears he sees something spark amongst the icy blues of Nesta’s eyes, that fire he loves so much returning before it’s snuffed out again and her cool, calculating gaze is all that remains.
"Nesta," Cassian begins, trying to put on his best beseeching expression. "Please will you go home with me for the holidays so I don’t have to break my mother’s heart?"
Nesta stays quiet, and Cassian fears that it’s all been for nothing, that she’s truly going to wash her hands of him and leave him to his mother’s mercy, but then she lets out a soft sigh, finally uncrossing her arms.
"Fine, but only because I love your mother."
~ * * * ~
Cassian pulls up in front of Nesta’s apartment building, throwing his truck into park. Her new apartment building. It’s certainly nicer than the one they shared, floors reaching up and up into the clouds, a doorman stationed out front to greet and assist residents. It has long forgotten words echoing in his mind again, settling like ice in his chest, and Cassian grips the wheel, taking a moment to try and shake them.
He grabs his phone, but his thumbs hover over the screen trying to decide if he should text Nesta, call her, or go up to her door. Thankfully, he’s spared from his agonizing when Nesta steps outside the building, tossing her bags into the back of his truck before sliding into the passenger seat.
"Morning," Cassian greets, grabbing one of the coffees from the cup holders and holding it out. "This is for you."
Nesta takes a sip of the coffee, letting out a soft noise of surprise. "You remember my coffee order?"
Cassian shrugs, hoping it comes off as nonchalant, though he’s not quite sure he succeeds. Before Nesta can say anything more, can question him or dig deeper, Cassian decides to fill the time asking about Nesta’s promotion, work, and everything else since they’ve last spoken. He tells himself it’s under the guise of making sure there are no slip ups over the next few days, that he’ll be able to answer any potential questions his mother might have, but really he’s just curious about Nesta’s life.
He may not be the person she tells everything to anymore, but Cassian still wants to be that person she can talk to, even if it’s only just for these hours driving. He wants to know what client has her infuriated, wants to know what upcoming book release has her the most excited. He wants to know if she still prefers red over white wine, if she still treats herself every week to a dessert from the bakery downtown.
He wants to know if she’s met someone new, if she’s moved on from him, from what they had. Although that’s a question Cassian is too scared to voice aloud, the words pressing against his windpipe. It’s a question he’s too scared to learn the answer to.
By the time they’re making their way up the mountain, the sun has started to set, casting the large pine trees that line either side of the road in shadow and leaving the rolling fields of snow glowing golden. It’s not long before the house comes into view, and even over the quiet music playing from the radio, Cassian can hear Nesta’s soft gasp. Out of the corner of his eye he watches her lean forward in her seat to get a better view.
The cabin stands out like a flame amongst the snow with the lights inside and out glowing orange in the evening light. A fresh blanket of snow coats the roof and dusts each of the balconies, some flakes even sticking to the stone pillars. Through the large, arching windows, he can already see his family in the living room, drinking and laughing. He follows the road along the back of the house, pulling into the driveway and throwing his truck into park.
"Are you ready for this?" Cassian asks, turning his head to face Nesta.
"You said yourself that your mother loves me, so I have nothing to worry about," Nesta points out, throwing open her door. "The only one who should be worried is you."
Nesta hops down from his truck, closing the door behind her, the sound of it slamming seems to echo in the cab. Cassian closes his eyes, letting out a soft exhale, but he knows she’s right. He can add worry to the long list of emotions threatening to clog his mind and his chest, tangling tighter and tighter and threatening to crush his heart under the pressure. At least, it’s only a few days.
He can do this.
They can do this.
Cassian clambers down from his truck as well, walking back to the bed and lifting the cover to get their bags out. He’s just tugged down Nesta’s bag when he hears the creak of the front door opening and a squeal of delight.
"Nesta!" Seren’s voice carries over to Cassian, and when he turns, his younger sister has her arms wrapped around Nesta in a hug.
"I’m so glad you both made it alright," Cassian’s mother, Carys, adds, stepping outside as well. "I was starting to get worried when the sun was setting that the roads would get icy."
"We didn’t have any issues," Cassian assures her, stepping forward to give his mother a hug.
"So good to see you, Nesta," Carys says, stepping away from Cassian to give her a hug too; although she shoots a look over Nesta’s shoulder that Cassian doesn’t even want to begin to decipher. "He doesn’t bring you around enough."
"Nesta?"
Cassian and Nesta still almost in unison, both their eyes snapping toward the still opened front door. Standing there, with the orange glow of the inside lights backlighting her, is Feyre, her face the picture perfect expression of surprise and confusion. Rhys is leaning against the door jamb beside her, his arm slung easily around Feyre’s shoulders. He looks just as confused, but if the slight pinch of his lips, the way his eyebrows are quirked, are anything to go by, he’s more amused than anything.
Fuck.
Cassian knew that he could convince his brothers to keep their mouths shut for the next few days, but he hadn’t anticipated Feyre being here. There’s no way she doesn’t know what happened between him and Nesta. She and Nesta are sisters after all. How is he going to ensure she doesn’t say anything to his mother?
"Isn’t this great? Rhys finally got up the courage to ask Feyre out. Now he finally has a nice girl to bring home," Carys continues as if nothing is amiss.
"Too bad she’s too good for him," Seren jumps in with the teasing. "Way out of his league."
"Just wait until you’re old enough to date, baby sister," Rhys shoots back with a smirk.
Seren sticks her tongue out at the nickname, deciding to retreat back into the warmth inside. Carys isn’t long behind her, looping her arm with Nesta’s and leading the way back toward the front door.
"Now, I just have to figure out a way to get your other sister here, and then I can spend the holidays with all you lovely Archeron girls."
"You’ll have to invite the Vanserras as well to make that happen," Nesta explains, a soft smile on her face. "Especially now that Elain and Lucien are engaged."
"Engaged? Oh, how wonderful," Carys sighs wistfully, turning her head to settle Cassian with another look over her shoulder.
"I'll help Cassian with the bags," Rhys calls after the ladies, stepping aside so they can get into the house.
Once they vanish from view inside, Rhys steps over to where Cassian has the bags pulled out and at his feet, instantly settling his brother with a bewildered expression, an endless sea of questions in that single look. Cassian shakes his head, worried with the front door still open how far their voices will travel, and instead, shoves one of Nesta's bags into Rhys' hands. It's not until they're inside, down the stairs, and behind the safety of a closed bedroom door, that Rhys finally speaks.
"So… what the fuck? Are you and Nesta back together again?"
"We're not back together," Cassian explains, setting down his bags. "You know how much Mom loves Nesta. I couldn't tell her we broke up, so I asked Nesta to come back with me and pretend, just for a few days."
"And Nesta agreed to that?"
Cassian shrugs, unzipping Nesta's bag and pulling out her book, setting it on the nightstand so it'll be ready and waiting for her later. "She loves Mom just as much."
"Right…"
"Just say whatever it is you want to say, Rhys."
Rhys gives a shrug of his own, relaxing back onto Cassian's bed. "Nothing. It's just… Well, we all know you're still in love with her, and Nesta agreeing to this sort of suggests—"
"Don't," Cassian cuts his brother off, even as his treacherous heart gives a skip of hope. "I just told you it's because she loves Mom. Nothing more."
"Come on, Cass. Maybe all the ‘pretending’," Rhys argues, throwing up air quotes, "will be just what you two need to sort your shit out."
"She broke up with me, remember? There’s nothing there anymore."
"If you say so," Rhys relents, standing up from the bed and heading toward the door. Cassian swears he can hear Rhys muttering about ‘idiots’ under his breath.
"Feyre," Cassian calls out to remind his brother.
Rhys pauses, turning to Cassian over his shoulder. "I’ll make sure she doesn’t say anything."
"Thanks. Seren doesn’t know either."
Rhys nods, heading back toward the door, but before he can open it, it swings open. Cassian and his brother both freeze, his heart firmly lodged in his throat at the idea of being overheard, but thankfully, it’s only Azriel that sticks his head in.
"What the fuck is Nesta doing here?"
Cassian groans, scrubbing his hand down his face. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. Cearly, it’s going to be a long night and an even longer few days.
Luckily, the rest of the evening goes off without a hitch, and with all the traveling, it’s not long before everyone retreats back to their respective bedrooms. It takes all of Cassian’s willpower not to think too hard about being back in this room with Nesta, about the fact she’s just in the other room while he brushes his teeth in the ensuite, about the fact that soon, he’ll be closer to her than he’s been in months.
The last time they were in this room together it was with heads ducked together beneath the blankets, with laughter swallowed by lips pressed together, with skin dragging against skin and whispered reprimands about staying quiet.
Unbidden, thoughts of who might be warming Nesta’s bed now rear their head again, clawing at Cassian’s consciousness and heart until all that remains are ribbons, bruised and demanding answers. He knows he’ll never have any sort of peace until he asks, until he knows for sure, so he rinses his mouth and pads back into the bedroom, finding Nesta pulling things out of her bag.
"Thanks again for doing this," Cassian starts, tugging his hair free of its bun so he’ll be comfortable to sleep. "Hopefully, your new boyfriend doesn’t mind us sharing a room."
Nesta stands up properly, her toiletry bag poised in her hand, and looks at Cassian like he’s sprouted a second head. "I don’t have a new boyfriend."
There’s another thump of his treacherous heart, but Cassian keeps his features schooled. "Really? That’s surprising."
"That would be surprising to you," Nesta scoffs with a roll of her eyes, stepping past Cassian and toward the bathroom.
"What’s that supposed to mean?"
Rather than answer, Nesta closes the bathroom door, the click of the lock almost too loud in the quiet room. Cassian sighs, but he finishes getting ready for bed, changing into a soft pair of sweats and getting comfortable on his side of the bed. He’s just gotten his pillows how he likes them when the bathroom door swings open again, Nesta stepping out.
She’s wearing an oversized band tee that Cassian recognizes from their college days and a pair of sleep shorts, and he isn’t sure what makes his mouth go dry more: Nesta’s bare legs on display or the peak of her collarbone revealed by the stretched out collar. Either way, the sight has Cassian swallowing hard, has his heart tripping over itself as it picks up its pace.
The temptation to clamber off the bed and kiss every inch of revealed skin rides him hard. Even more so, the desire to whisper how much he’s missed her, how much his heart still so firmly beats and belongs to her against that skin. It’s a need, a yearning, that cuts him deep, right down the middle until he’s left bleeding and exposed on the bedroom floor.
Nesta’s gaze lands on him, a frown tugging down her lips, and fear grips Cassian at potentially being caught, at his expression giving away the feelings burning a hole between his ribs.
"What are you doing?" Nesta snaps, tossing her toiletry bag back into her suitcase and crossing her arms. "I get the bed. You’re sleeping on the floor."
Cassian blinks a few times before her words fully sink in, fully register. "What?"
"You heard me."
"I am not sleeping on the floor. This is my house."
"It’s your mother’s house."
"Same thing," Cassian argues, desperately trying to keep his tone even so they don’t accidentally wake the whole house. "You’ve stayed here before. You know how cold it gets at night, and I’m not freezing my ass off on the floor."
"That’s what blankets are for," Nesta shoots back, a full scowl taking over her face.
"Great. Then you can sleep on the floor with the blankets."
"You are the worst."
"Come on, Nes. We shared a bed for literal years. What’s the big deal?"
"I thought I told you not to call me that," Nesta hisses but she relents, walking over to the other side of the bed and pulling the blankets back.
"You used to love when I called you Nes."
Nesta hits her pillow a few times until it’s to her liking, laying down with her back to Cassian, and when she finally speaks again, her voice is quiet. "I used to love a lot of things."
You used to love me.
The words weigh heavy on Cassian’s tongue, but he swallows them down, buries them down deep with the rest of the feelings still bubbling just under the surface. With a soft sigh, he reaches over and switches off the light, settling back against the bed and getting comfortable.
It’s easier said than done.
He feels like a livewire, his body overly attuned to Nesta’s presence just beside him, practically prickling with sparks of electricity. If he focuses hard enough, he can feel the heat of her, can smell the flowery and vanilla sweet scent of the perfume she prefers, he can hear each soft inhale and exhale as her breathing evens out. It’s tantalizing and tortuous all wrapped up into one. He rolls over so his back is to Nesta as well, squeezing his eyes shut and forcing his mind to still, his body to relax until finally sleep carries him away.
~ * * * ~
Cassian wakes to Nesta curled up against his chest, his arm snug around her waist. Her hair fans out like soft, golden fields behind her, and her steady breaths skate across his collarbones with every exhale. With the morning light spilling in from the windows, the faint freckles on her nose seem to glow.
She's so beautiful it makes him stupid. Case in point the way his free hand reaches up of its own volition, fingers gently tracing down her temple, her cheek, her jaw. For a moment, Cassian can pretend she's still his. He can pretend he gets to keep this, that Nesta's eyes will flutter open and they won't be filled with harshness or distance. Instead, they’ll be filled with love, with that soft amusement that used to be reserved just for him.
The minutes continue to tick by, Cassian basking in this bubble for as long as he gets to hold onto it, but then he hears the soft intake of breath from Nesta, indicating she’s woken up. Her eyes flutter open, and much to Cassian’s surprise, they are that tender, crystal blue, peering up at him and leaving his breath hitching in his throat. He half wonders if he’s still dreaming, he must be, but in the blink of an eye that expression vanishes, that icy wall and the world crashing back in around him.
"What are you doing?" Nesta seethes quietly, shoving Cassian’s arm away from her.
"Good morning to you too," Cassian mutters, rolling over onto his back.
Nesta doesn’t say anything more, sitting up and tossing the blankets off herself. She pads over to the bathroom, closing the door behind her, and it’s not long before Cassian hears the sounds of the shower turning on. With a soft sigh, he sits up as well, scrubbing his hands down his face and scraping his hair back into a bun. He stares at the closed bathroom door, but he’s not sure what exactly he’s waiting for, what he’s expecting.
Another minute ticks by, and he heads out of their room and up the stairs, padding through the dining room and into the kitchen. Blessedly, there’s already a pot of coffee brewed, and Cassian wastes no time pulling down a mug and filling it. He sets it down on the kitchen island and starts poking around the refrigerator for something for breakfast when he hears bare feet on the hardwood. His heart leaps into his throat in anticipation, but when he turns, he finds Feyre sitting at the kitchen island.
"Morning," Cassian greets easily, closing the refrigerator door and pouring Feyre a mug of coffee. Feyre takes the proffered mug, but she doesn’t return Cassian’s friendly smile, and Cassian cocks his head in confusion, raising an eyebrow. "Everything alright? Is it Rhys? I’ll beat him up for you, you know."
Feyre lets out a quiet sigh, taking a sip of her coffee before finally speaking. "You know I think of you as my brother, Cassian."
"Yeah…?"
"But Nesta is still my sister, and I won’t let you string her along or break her heart."
Cassian blinks a few times in surprise at the direction of the conversation, but he leans against the kitchen island, offering Feyre a small smile. "I promise, Fey, that you have nothing to worry about. Nesta and I both know what this is, or more importantly, what it isn’t. We’ve both moved on, so there’s nothing to worry about. It’s just a few days and then back home and back to normal."
"Are you sure about that?"
The words give Cassian pause, have his mind tumbling as it tries to catch up with the implication that seems to be hidden there, but before he can ask exactly what Feyre means by that, the rest of his family is descending on the kitchen. The words still echo in the back of his mind though, even as he pulls out all the ingredients to make breakfast, even as he flips pancakes on the skillet and loads up plates for everyone. And they’re still ringing in his ears when Nesta finally steps inside the kitchen, dressed in a soft looking gray sweater.
Cassian finds himself scrutinizing her more than normal. He’s always prided himself on being able to read Nesta, to see every tell, every emotion she tries to slip and hide behind a mask, but nothing stands out as out of the ordinary to him, just that guarded look she’s worn around him since that fateful final day they spoke. He settles a stack of pancakes on a plate, holding it out for her. Their fingers brush when she takes it, and with the family around him being the perfect excuse, Cassian leans in and steals a kiss to her cheek. Nesta’s eyes snap to him at the gesture, but she plays it off easily, offering him a soft thanks before retreating to take the seat beside Feyre.
"So is everyone excited to hit the slopes today?" Carys asks, taking her own plate from Cassian.
"Oh yes," Rhys croons with a smirk. "Feyre darling and I are going to try the black diamond trails."
"We are not," Feyre snaps, turning in her chair to glare at him.
"I’ll probably stay in and read," Nesta offers with a shrug.
"You can’t!" Seren argues. "You can’t come all the way to the mountains and not ski or snowboard."
"I know, but I’ve never been any good. I always just end up falling over every time."
"But you have the best teacher."
"Yeah, Nes. You have the best teacher," Cassian echoes his sister’s words, stepping behind Nesta and throwing an arm casually around her shoulders. "I’d never let you fall over."
~ * * * ~
When they make it up to the top of the mountain, Cassian leads Nesta toward one of the green trails, the slopes luckily not too busy. The snow’s stopped for now, but the skies above are still overcast, the promise of more snow later tonight weighing them down heavily. Along with the breeze blowing across the mountain, it’s a nippy but perfect day.
Already, the cold has tinged the skin of Nesta’s face pink, and she rubs a gloved hand underneath her nose as she sniffles before tugging her hat down even more over her hair and ears. It’s more adorable than it should be, and Cassian is tempted to press his lips against each chilled cheek before he remembers his place, remembers what they are now.
He instructs Nesta to sit in the snow, and he crouches down to strap her boots into her snowboard. He tightens the straps until he’s satisfied she’ll be secure before turning to his own snowboard. Once that’s done, Cassian hops back up, holding his hands out toward Nesta to help her up as well. Nesta eyes him dubiously, but then she’s settling her gloved hands in his, and Cassian tugs her to her feet.
"Now remember," Cassian explains, not letting go of Nesta’s hands. "You want to keep your knees bent, but not too far that they’re over your feet."
"I’m going to fall," Nesta protests, her fingers tightening around his.
"You’ll be fine. I promise," Cassian assures her, offering a small, comforting smile. "I’ve got you. I’ve always got you."
Just like that morning, Nesta’s eyes snap to his, but before Cassian can begin to decipher the emotions hiding in her expression, she turns her face away and toward the trail extending down the mountain. Carefully, Cassian shifts his feet so they start moving. He keeps his hands grasping hers, holding them both balanced as they start to slowly make their way down the trail.
"Okay, I’m going to let you go now," Cassian starts, keeping his tone encouraging.
"Don’t you dare," Nesta snaps, her hold on his hands tightening even more.
"You can do this."
Before Nesta can protest again, Cassian pulls his hands away from her, turning his board and pulling to a stop. Nesta’s momentum keeps carrying her forward down the trail. Her arms flare out as she tries to keep her balance, and she wobbles a bit on her board. She makes it a few yards from him before her balance finally slips, Nesta tumbling back into the snow. Cassian winces as he watches, quickly jumping with his board and sliding down to meet her.
Cassian drops to his knees in the snow in front of Nesta. He tugs a glove off his hand, reaching his now free hand up to brush the hair out of Nesta’s face, revealing that adorable scowl of hers. It takes every inch of willpower for Cassian to bite back his smile, but from the way Nesta’s eyes still narrow, he didn’t hide it as well as he thinks.
"I told you I was going to fall," Nesta tells him, letting out a quiet huff of frustration.
"But you didn’t fall down right away. Look how far you made it," Cassian points out, gesturing up the mountain. "That’s better than you did last year. Are you sure you haven’t been practicing?"
"Oh, yeah, I go snowboarding every other weekend now," Nesta shoots back, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
"Then you should be a pro."
Cassian pulls them both back up to their feet, pointedly ignoring the annoyed look Nesta settles him with. At least this time, she doesn’t hold his hands in a death grip, but instead, she yanks her hands free and crosses her arms. It’s a stubborn stance that Cassian is all too familiar with, and he can’t help but stoke the fire a bit, offering an easy smirk and keeping his own stance casual.
"Never known you to back down from a challenge, sweetheart."
"I’m not backing down from anything. Excuse me for preferring curling up with a book over falling on my ass."
"Sure sounds like you are. Should we turn it into a competition? Race to the bottom?" Cassian knows he’s won when Nesta raises her chin, her mouth set in a firm line. "You can count us in."
"Fine. Go!" Nesta shouts, not even bothering with the counting part.
Cassian blinks a few times before it fully registers what just happened. Although, knowing Nesta’s competitive streak, he supposes he shouldn’t actually be that surprised. Still, Nesta has made it a few yards ahead of him before Cassian finally jumps into action, hopping with his board and sliding after her. With Nesta’s slow pace, it doesn’t take a lot for Cassian to catch up and pass her, and he offers her a slow wave just to really twist the knife.
Even over the wind, Cassian can hear Nesta’s annoyed groan, and he tips his head back and laughs at the reaction. He throws in a few cuts and turns, telling himself it’s so he doesn’t get too far ahead of Nesta and not at all to show off. When he finally reaches the bottom, he pulls to a stop, turning to look back up the mountain.
Surprisingly, Nesta isn’t far behind him, having picked up more speed than Cassian anticipated. It has pride swelling deep between Cassian’s ribs, watching her board down the mountain, and a big smile tugs at his lips. The feeling comes to a screeching halt, though, when Nesta’s knees go too far forward. One second she’s upright and next she’s spilling face first into the snow.
"Shit," Cassian mutters, quickly ripping his boots free and jogging up the mountain to her.
Nesta pushes herself up as soon as Cassian reaches her, but rather than sit up, she merely flops back down on her back. Cassian drops down into the snow beside her, leaning over to peer at her. Nesta has her eyes closed, so Cassian gently wipes the snow off her cheeks, her hair, and the front of her hat.
"You alright, Nes?" Cassian asks softly.
Slowly, Nesta’s eyes flutter open. "Can we finally go back to the house now?"
Cassian chuckles, but he nods his head. He shifts so he can help Nesta out of the straps of her snowboard before helping her back to her feet. He carries her board and grabs his own, leading them back to where the shuttle will pick them up.
They peel off all their gear once they make it back to the house, and Cassian lets Nesta shut herself in the bathroom first, taking the time to change into comfortable, dry clothes. He pads out of the room and into the kitchen, preparing two mugs of hot chocolate. He makes sure he adds extra marshmallows to Nesta’s mug, remembering just how she likes it.
He finds Nesta with her legs curled up on the sofa, a book poised on her knees. He hands over her mug of hot chocolate before lifting her legs and settling down on the sofa with them across his lap. There’s a quiet peace blanketed around them, each of them sipping on their drinks, Nesta reading her book and Cassian tracing senseless patterns on her legging covered legs.
When he finishes his drink, Cassian leans forward, setting his mug down on the coffee table. He settles back more comfortably again, tipping his head back against the cushions of the sofa and letting his eyes fall shut. Every muscle in his body starts to relax, knots unfurling with every deep inhale in, every soft page turn echoing in the quiet room. A snort from his right has Cassian sliding one eye open, and he turns his head to peer at Nesta.
"Good part of the book?"
Nesta glances up at him from her book. "The main character just told the love interest that they’re relationship is ‘just sex’ and nothing more even though it’s obvious they’re both in love with each other."
"Sometimes it’s hard to admit things, even to yourself."
"They’re both just being idiots," Nesta mutters, returning back to her book.
Cassian chuckles at her reaction, but he rests his head back again. His thumb glides back and forth across Nesta’s shin, but already, he can feel himself starting to drift closer and closer to sleep.
"Oh."
Cassian’s head snaps up to find his mother and sister standing in the front entryway. Seren has a smirk firmly on her face, but she doesn’t say anything before heading off for her own room. Carys offers them both an easy smile, peeling off her jacket and hanging it on one of the many hooks near the door.
"I didn’t expect to see you both home so soon," Carys tells them, stepping into the living room.
"Turns out I’m not as good of a teacher as I thought," Cassian explains with a grimace.
"I was going to get started on dinner," Carys continues. "But since you’re here, any chance I can twist your arm into preparing one of your signature dishes?"
"What do you say, Nes?" Cassian asks, giving Nesta’s leg a gentle squeeze.
"She said your signature dish, not mine," Nesta argues, raising a challenging eyebrow.
"You know I’ll need a sous chef," Cassian shoots back.
Nesta lets out a sigh, but she turns to Carys. "We’ll handle dinner."
His mother retreats toward her own room in the house with a smile and a thanks, and Cassian stands up from the sofa, letting Nesta at least finish her chapter while he heads into the kitchen. He starts tugging out ingredients and the various pots and pans they’ll need, and he’s just pulling out a cutting board and knife when Nesta steps into the kitchen.
"So would you rather chop tomatoes or onions?" Cassian asks, holding up the two options in his hands.
"You know I hate chopping onions."
"I remember," Cassian tells her softly, more to himself than anything else.
He sets Nesta up with the tomatoes before quickly chopping up the onions himself, adding them and the garlic into the pan with some oil to saute. When he turns back around, he finds Nesta practically curled over her cutting board, brows drawn down low while she slowly cuts a tomato. Without thinking twice, he sidles up behind her, reaching his arms around her to pause her movements. Pressed together, he can feel the way Nesta’s body locks up at the gesture, but he doesn’t let it deter him, settling his hands over hers and guiding her.
"You know, I didn’t think your form could get worse," Cassian teases lightly.
"I don’t have you to cook for me anymore," Nesta tells him softly.
The quiet admission has Cassian freezing, has a crack ricocheting clean down his chest until it fissures and stings, but he recovers quickly. "Exactly. Now that you’re cooking for yourself, you should be better at this."
"I just order a lot of take out instead."
Nesta sets the knife down and reaches forward to grab the next tomato, effectively separating her and Cassian’s hands. The cold that seeps into Cassian’s pores at the loss of contact is jarring. When Nesta starts back in on that slow, cutting rhythm, Cassian places his hand over hers for the second time. He tells himself it’s simply to stop her, but the way his fingers curl, sliding gently against her skin, betrays him more than he’s willing to admit.
"How about I finish chopping and you stir?" Cassian offers.
"Deal."
Nesta steps fully away from him, going over to the stove and picking up the wooden spoon there. Cassian can’t help but track her the whole way, watching as she stirs the onion and garlic in the pan. Just like old times, and yet… He shakes his head and turns his attention back to the chopping board, making quick work of the remaining tomatoes. He adds them to the pan as well before moving on, Nesta continuing to stir everything together.
They move around the kitchen with familiarity and ease, Cassian adding the remainder of the ingredients to the sauce and Nesta preparing the pot of noodles. Every time he passes Nesta, he indulges that desire still purring within his gut and lets his hands slide along the small of her back, her hips, her waist, and he tries to impress her with his spice work until she’s snorting softly and rolling her eyes fondly. While everything simmers and boils, Cassian gets to work on preparing the garlic bread and throwing that in the oven, the kitchen soon filled with the delicious aromas as everything cooks.
When everything is almost ready to go, Cassian grabs the wooden spoon they’ve been using to stir the sauce, reaching his other arm out and wrapping it securely around Nesta’s waist. He tugs her until she pressed up against him, pointedly ignoring her surprised expression to smirk down at her.
"It’s not ready to serve until it has your seal of approval," Cassian explains, scooping out some sauce and holding it out for Nesta.
Nesta raises an eyebrow, but slowly, she leans forward, her lips closing around the wooden spoon. Cassian’s mouth goes dry watching her, and the spoon fast becomes forgotten as he drops it down onto the countertop. Nesta’s gaze stays on his face, her blue eyes practically blazing under the kitchen lights. Cassian’s grip tightens on her waist, his head dipping low of its own accord.
It would be so easy. So easy to close that hairsbreadth gap between them. So easy to capture her lips with his own. He knows he’d taste the remnants of the sauce on her tongue, but would she still be that intoxicating taste he could get drunk on? His gaze flicks down to her lips as if he’ll be able to see the answer there, but then Nesta’s entire body locks up.
In a second, her expression shutters and falls, pain filling her eyes before brick by brick that icy wall rises back into place. She steps back from Cassian, turning away from him completely, and Cassian doesn’t miss the straight way she holds her spine, the tense set to her shoulders.
"I’ll go set the table," Nesta tells him, heading toward the cabinets and yanking them open.
Cassian is hot on her heels, catching her wrist before she can grab the stack of plates. "What’s wrong?"
"Nothing," Nesta dismisses, yanking her arm free from his grip.
"I can tell that you’re upset."
"It’s fine."
Cassian scoffs at that, crossing his arms across his chest. "You know, there used to be a time when you would never lie to me."
If looks could kill, the one Nesta settles him with certainly would, her tone as cold as ice. "There once was a time when you didn’t lie to me either."
Before Cassian can say anything to that, Nesta pulls down the plates and vanishes into the dining room. He doesn’t even know where to begin with that. The words echo in his mind all through dinner, all through the movie his family puts on for the rest of the evening. He tries to wrack his brain for what Nesta could mean, for some instance these past few days that he’s lied to her, if ever, but all he does is draw a blank.
He wants to ask, but he won’t cause a scene in front of his family, would never embarrass Nesta like that. So, instead, he bides him time until everyone says their goodnights and retreats to their rooms. He tries to think about the best way to approach it while he brushes his teeth, deciding being straight forward and simply ripping off the bandaid might be best.
With determination settling like a stone in his gut, Cassian steps back into the bedroom, toothbrush still poised between his fingers and toothpaste dribbling down his lips. He finds Nesta in their bed, arranging the various throw pillows into a line down the center of the mattress, and any other words or thoughts die on his tongue.
"What are you doing?" Cassian asks, raising a curious eyebrow.
"You didn’t stay on your side of the bed last night, so I’m making sure tonight you do," Nesta explains like it’s obvious, shoving the last pillow into place with more force than Cassian thinks is necessary.
"You really think those pillows are going to make a difference?"
"You sleeping on the floor is always still an option."
Cassian rolls his eyes at the retort, padding back into the bathroom to rinse his mouth and finish his nightly routine. When he returns to the bedroom, Nesta has already turned off the lights, and if he squints, he can see her lying there with her back to the pillow wall. It takes a lot of coordination to make it to the bed without kicking anything or stubbing his toe, and when he finally settles under the blankets, he lets out a soft sigh. He chances a glance toward Nesta through the dark, but even though he knows there’s no way she’s fallen asleep that fast, she doesn’t move from her position.
How has it only been two days and it still feels like a thousand steps back for the two of them? Still an expansive void full of violent seas between them? And he still doesn’t even know what he supposedly lied about.
Another sigh and Cassian rolls over, keeping his own back to the pillow wall and Nesta, willing sleep to take him away and sending a quiet prayer up to the Mother that tomorrow will be better.
Unsurprisingly, Cassian wakes up the same way as the previous morning, holding Nesta close against him. Every inhale has Nesta’s spine brushing against his chest, has his nostrils flooded with the sweet jasmine scent of her shampoo. His whole body feels warm and relaxed having her in his arms, having her close like this, some part deep within seeming to always recognize her, seeming to settle when she’s near.
"You were supposed to stay on your side of the bed," Nesta’s sleepy voice breaks the quiet, letting Cassian know she’s awake.
"And I told you a wall of pillows wasn’t going to make a difference," Cassian reminds her.
Just because he can, he squeezes his arms tighter around her, nuzzling his face into the juncture of her neck and shoulder. He brushes his lips against the skin exposed from the collar of her tee, delighting in the shiver he feels overtake her body. With a quiet huff, Nesta wiggles free from his grip, practically throwing his arms and the blankets off as she clambers out of bed.
"You're insufferable," Nesta scoffs, heading toward the bathroom.
"Aw come on," Cassian teases, shifting to lie on his back and tucking his hands behind his head. "It's just a bit of cuddling. What's the harm in that?"
"You would think that."
"You're the one who said you don't have a new boyfriend, so what could possibly be the harm?"
Cassian isn't surprised by the silence that follows his question. He sits up to properly face where Nesta is standing in front of the bathroom and prepares to weather what he's sure is her looking at him like he's an idiot. Instead, though, there's what he swears is sadness, almost something like longing, swimming in her expression, clouding over the blues of her eyes. The sight practically knocks the breath right out of his lungs, his heart giving a sickening pang in his chest.
"Nes—"
The bathroom door closes, cutting Cassian off before he can finish that thought. He slips off the bed, walking over and raising his fist to knock, to talk to her, before he thinks better about it. His hand drops back down to his side, and he lets his forehead fall gently against the wood instead. If he closes his eyes and listens hard enough, he can almost hear Nesta’s heart on the other side.
With a soft sigh, Cassian steps away from the door. He heads out of the room and into the kitchen, finding most of his family already awake. He gets to work preparing he and Nesta a cup of coffee, snagging a muffin from the container opened on the kitchen island.
"So, are you ready to lose today?" Seren asks around a spoonful of the cereal she’s eating.
"Lose?"
"The annual snowball fight. It’s boys versus girls this year."
"You’re willingly letting Rhys, Az, and I be on a team together?" Cassian questions, earning a quiet snort of agreement from Azriel. "And you think we’re going to lose?"
"I have Nesta and Feyre on my team," Seren argues, pointing her spoon accusingly at him.
"Just a friendly reminder," their mother cuts in. "I will not be driving anyone to the hospital. I don’t care how competitive any of you are, be careful."
"Yes, Mom," Cassian, Azriel, and Seren all intone in unison.
It’s the afternoon by the time everyone has wandered out of their bedroom, eaten, and changed into warm clothes. They all head out the back door and down the deck steps, Seren wasting no time in grabbing Nesta and Feyre’s hands and dragging them to one side of the spacious backyard. Cassian, Azriel, and Rhys huddle close together on the other side, their heads ducked close together.
"Alright, so what’s our strategy here?" Cassian asks.
"I say we focus just on Seren," Rhys suggests. "Just solely attack her."
"And just ignore Feyre and Nesta?" Azriel questions.
"Exactly," Rhys agrees, but his smile quickly falls when he takes in Cassian and Azriel’s uncertain expressions. "Okay, look, if I don’t hit Feyre with any snowballs, she’s promised to suck—"
Cassian and Azriel both groan, effectively cutting Rhys off. Cassian most definitely did not need that image in his mind.
"What?" Rhys asks innocently with a shrug before turning to Cassian. "I’m surprised Nesta didn’t promise you something similar."
"Ha ha. Very funny," Cassian shoots back dryly.
"I’m just saying, with the two of you sharing a room, how have you not blurted out how you’re still in love with her yet?"
"How about we focus on the actual task at hand instead?"
"Look, I’ll take Seren. Rhys, you take Feyre, and Cass, you take Nesta, okay?" Azriel cuts in.
Cassian and Rhys nod their heads in agreement, and then all three of them are turning around to face off against the ladies. Except, the ladies are nowhere to be seen. The other side of the backyard is empty except blankets of snow and the lines of trees that surround the entire property. A glance back up toward the deck finds just their mother standing at the railing, innocently drinking a mug of tea as she watches.
"Where did—"
Cassian’s words are cut off when a snowball hits him square in the back. He whips around to find that Nesta, Feyre, and Seren have snuck up behind them, snowballs already made and poised in their hands for attack. Azriel wastes no time peeling off to the left, Seren hot on his heels as he dodges her throws. Rhys, on the other hand, merely crosses his arms and smirks, clearly more than happy to take Feyre’s onslaught.
Cassian takes another snowball to the chest and then he’s charging toward Nesta, scooping up snow as he goes. He only has time to halfheartedly pack the snow in his hands before he’s throwing it. Nesta holds up her arms to block the attack, the snowball fragmenting once it makes contact with her hands and coating her in a thin dusting of white flakes.
Nesta’s arms drop back down to her sides, and she laughs. It has Cassian pulling up to a stop in front of her, has him struck dumb. He hasn’t heard her laugh the whole time they’ve been here. Hasn’t heard her laugh in months. He almost forgot how much he missed that light, melodious sound, the carefree way her cheeks and nose scrunch up, the way her shoulders shake. Her eyes are so light, so full of soft joy, and the blue of them stands out against the snow bitten pink of her skin.
Nesta bends down, scooping up more snow and dropping it over Cassian’s head, cold droplets dripping down his face and neck. It knocks Cassian out of his stupor, and he continues his charge, throwing Nesta over his shoulder. Nesta lets out a shriek of surprise at the gesture, but he doesn’t let that deter him, carrying her deeper into the line of trees before depositing her on her back amongst the blankets of white. He drops into the snow beside her, letting their panting breaths and subsiding laughter drift away on clouds above them.
"You know they’re totally going to think we’re fucking in the snow right now," Nesta breaks the quiet, turning her head toward him.
"Should we make a bunch of fake moaning sounds to really sell it?"
Cassian opens his mouth, ready to let out his best porn star impersonation, but instead a gloved hand smacks over his mouth, pressing him deeper into the snow. He lets out a muffled laugh instead, curling his own hand around Nesta’s and gently tugging it away. He settles their joined hands on his chest, daring to keep the contact as long as he can.
"You’re right," Cassian offers, barely biting back a smirk. "Fucking in the snow isn’t really our style. Probably one of the few places we haven’t fucked."
"We’ve certainly fucked everywhere else."
The dry remark is out of Nesta’s mouth so fast, Cassian is sure she regrets it, that she didn’t mean to say it, but he doesn’t care. It’s so like the Nesta he’s always known and loved, the one who teased him relentlessly, who met him stroke for stroke every time. Seeing a spark of her return has his smirk tugging even wider across his face, a flood of memories returning to the forefront of his mind.
"Do you remember when—"
"This counts as cheating by the way," Nesta cuts him off, abruptly sitting up. It’s a sudden change in conversation but he doesn’t comment on it. "So you basically forfeit."
"With Rhys refusing to hit Feyre, I guess that means all our hopes rest on Azriel."
~ * * * ~
As the sun begins to dip low in the sky, everyone retreats back inside a bit exhausted but happy. Well, mostly happy. The ladies are certainly basking in the afterglow of their victory. Dinner is a rowdy affair, full of plenty of teasing and trash talking and threats of another round. After all the dishes are cleaned, Seren and Carys retreat to their own respective bedrooms, everyone else deciding to hang out in the second living room in the basement.
"All I’m saying is that it’s not actually that difficult," Rhys argues as he racks the balls on the pool table. "You’re making an active choice, if not a bad choice."
"And all I’m saying is you sound like an arrogant prick," Nesta shoots back with a roll of her eyes.
Cassian barely hides his snort of amusement behind his hand, but Rhys still settles him with an unimpressed look. Cassian offers his brother a wink in response before grabbing one of the cue sticks, lining up the shot how he wants it. The nine ball sinks into a pocket, and Cassian pulls back with a satisfied smile, walking around the table to where Nesta is sitting.
"Looks like we’re stripes," Cassian tells her, knocking her shoulder with his.
"I’m not playing."
"But I need a partner to help me wipe the floor with Rhysie."
Nesta rolls her eyes, but she stands up, taking the cue stick from Cassian’s hands. She walks around the table, eying up the different shot options, her eyebrows drawn down low and her lips pinched together. Cassian points down to the fourteen ball, raising an eyebrow in question.
Nesta shakes her head. "I can’t make that shot."
"Sure you can," Cassian assures her.
He walks around the table to where Nesta is, settling his hands on her shoulders and directing her where to stand. He bends down with her and guides her hands on the cue stick to line up the shot before stepping back, pointedly ignoring the three sets of eyes staring at him with various questions and accusations swimming in their expressions. Thankfully, Nesta is so concentrated on her shot that she doesn’t seem to notice. She hits the cue ball and it goes banking off the wall, knocking against the fourteen ball and sending it rolling into the pocket.
"See? I told you you could make that shot."
Despite their best efforts, it’s Rhys and Azriel that wipe the floor with them. His brothers decide to go one-versus-one for the next game, so Cassian settles back on the sofa with Nesta, calling out comments at the different shots and placing bets with Feyre on who will come out victorious.
Feyre calls dibs on the next game, but Cassian can’t say he minds. He glances over toward Nesta, watching the way her eyes droop, the way she tries to stifle a yawn behind her hand. He reaches his arm out, curling around her and tugging her against his side. He can feel her stiffen in surprise, but he just presses gently against her head until it rests against his shoulder. Nesta still shifts slightly, but she relaxes, curling closer against him and adjusting her head until she’s comfortable.
He keeps his arm snug around Nesta’s shoulders, tracing aimless lines up and down her upper arm, while he keeps his attention on the pool game unfolding in front of him. Feyre’s eyes narrow at him, her lips pursed slightly with all the questions bubbling on the tip of her tongue, but she doesn’t say anything, merely leans down and takes her next shot while Rhys tries and fails to bite back an amused smirk.
By the time the game of pool is ending, Cassian feels tired himself. He turns his head toward Nesta to suggest they head up to bed, but finds her already fast asleep, loose strands of hair falling gently against her cheek. With a soft smile and gentle fingers, Cassian brushes the hair away and tucks it behind her ear, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. It has Nesta stirring slightly, but she merely sniffs quietly and presses closer against him.
"Come on, sweetheart," Cassian says softly against her hair. "Let’s get you to bed."
Cassian tightens his arm around Nesta’s shoulders, sliding the other under her knees and hoisting her up. Nesta lets out an incoherent, sleepy mumble, but she wraps her own arms around his neck. He offers his brothers and Feyre a goodnight and heads for the stairs, carrying Nesta up and to their room.
Cassian lays Nesta down in their bed, tucking the blankets around her shoulders. Suddenly, Rhys’ comment from earlier makes too much sense because those three little words press so firmly against Cassian’s windpipe, he feels like he’s choking on them. His hands clench in the blankets, and he forcibly swallows them back down, settling for another kiss to Nesta’s hair before retreating to the safety and breathing room of the bathroom.
~ * * * ~
For once, Cassian wakes up alone in an empty bed. He frowns, hand sliding against the cool sheets in front of him, before the sounds of the shower running register in his mind. He peels out of bed and heads for the kitchen, surprised to find Rhys and Feyre as some of the first people in the cabin awake.
"So, what are your plans for today?" Cassian asks, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "Hitting the slopes again?"
"Actually, we volunteered you and Nesta to help us get a tree for Solstice," Feyre explains.
Cassian’s brows pinch. "What?"
"We need a tree for Solstice," Feyre continues with a shrug like it’s obvious. "And Rhys will need someone to help him chop it down and carry it."
"What’s happening?" Nesta asks, stepping into the kitchen and preparing a cup of coffee for herself.
"We’ve been assigned to help with tree duty," Cassian tells her, making a big exaggeration of rolling his eyes.
"Don’t make that face," Feyre protests, slapping at Cassian’s arm. "It will be fun. I promise."
Cassian isn’t exactly sure when this promised fun is meant to occur, but he’s certain it doesn’t involve the four of them trudging through the deep snow of the tree farm. Rows and rows of green in various sizes line the makeshift path either side of them, some of the trees as low as their knees and others souring higher than even Cassian’s head. Feyre has a map of the farm opened in her hands, squinting at the different descriptions for each lot of trees.
"Okay, we definitely want a douglas fir," Feyre nods as she reads before pointing ahead. "And it looks like the biggest ones are the back lot over there."
Feyre leads the way, and soon they’re enveloped by the surrounding trees, all voices and shouts of the other families visiting the farm today being swallowed up until the only sounds that remain is the wind through the pine needles. Rhys throws an easy arm around Feyre’s shoulders, dipping his head low to whisper something in her ear, and suddenly, Cassian feels like he’s intruding.
He glances over toward Nesta, finding her with her arms crossed over her chest and clearly shivering from the cold. His fingers twitch with the urge to reach out, to tuck her into his side and keep her warm, so instead he shoves his hands into his pockets.
"Feyre darling and I thought it’d be best if we split up," Rhys announces, the way his eyes glint under the afternoon sun giving away his fake innocence and ulterior motives.
"Just shout if you find the perfect tree," Feyre agrees, already grabbing Rhys’ hand in hers and pulling him away and through the trees. "And we will too."
"Why do I have a feeling we’ll be hearing very different shouting from them soon," Nesta mutters once Rhys and Feyre vanish from view.
"I guess they’re the couple to fuck in the snow," Cassian chuckles.
Nesta hums but she doesn’t say anything more, merely continues walking amongst the trees, occasionally stopping to run a gloved hand along the branches or doing a loop around to see how the tree looks from all angles. They walk deeper and deeper into the rows of trees, cutting over from time to time to check different trees further to the left or right.
Each tree they stop in front of isn’t quite right. Too many holes. The branches not strong enough to hold the ornaments. Too short or too tall for how high the ceiling is in the cabin. By the fifth tree that they deem isn’t going to work, Nesta pulls up to a full stop, letting out a frustrated sigh.
"That’s it," Nesta declares, glancing around like she expects Feyre and Rhys to reappear. "Let’s just get the next tree we see and be done with this. I’m freezing."
"Rhys still has the saw," Cassian reminds her with a grimace. "We’d have to shout for them if we want to cut one down, and I’m honestly not sure they’d actually stop whatever it is they’re doing."
Nesta releases an annoyed groan, bunching her hands up into fists at her side. "Fine. Then let’s just leave them here and go back to the house."
"Honestly, I’m okay with that plan," Cassian agrees. He’s already started to lose the feeling in his toes from standing in the snow so long.
"Thank the Cauldron. Alright. Lead the way."
Those words give Cassian pause, and he slowly spins around in a circle, eying the greenery that surrounds them from all sides. "Um…"
"Do not," Nesta sighs, reaching a hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose.
"I think it’s that way," Cassian tells her—although it sounds more like a question—gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder.
"You think?" Nesta practically seethes, rolling her eyes hard.
"I don’t know, Nes, alright?" Cassian snaps back, feeling his own frustration beginning to grow. It’s been slowly simmering away this whole time with Nesta here, eating away at him and gnawing for attention, along with plenty of other emotions he’s certainly not in a mood to bring up and out into the open. "What do you want from me?"
"Gods, you are the worst," Nesta mutters, stomping past Cassian and knocking her shoulder against his.
"Oh yeah, thanks for the reminder," Cassian drawls sarcastically. "Bet it’s top of the list for why we didn’t work out, right? Why you decided you didn’t want to be with me anymore?"
"Don’t you dare," Nesta whirls around, pointing an accusing finger at him. "Don’t you dare try and pin what happened on me."
"You’re the one who broke up with me. Or did you forget?"
Nesta scoffs, but Cassian can hear the underlying pain in the sound, can see it in the way her blue eyes shine sharply, and it cuts him right down to the bone, splays his chest open until his pounding and bruised heart is on full display.
"Right, because you fought so hard for us, did you?" Nesta spits back, her own tone dripping with sarcasm. "I’m not an idiot. I could see you pulling away, that you didn’t want this, us, anymore. So, you’re right. I broke my own heart before you could break it yourself."
Cassian feels like he’s been slapped in the face. For the first time in hours he doesn’t feel the cold biting into his skin because all he can feel is his heart shattering, cracks digging in so deeply between his ribs that it hurts to breathe.
"What?" Cassian asks, his voice hoarse and barely above a whisper.
"Don’t," Nesta stops him before he can say anything more. "You don’t have to say anything. I get it. After we graduated, after we were living in the real world, you realized you didn’t see a future with me, and that’s fine, Cassian. We don’t have to talk about it."
He knows the words are meant to assure him, but Cassian doesn’t miss the way she swipes a hand against her cheek, and he feels like he’s going to be sick. "Nesta…"
"I said don’t," Nesta repeats, her voice more firm. "It’s in the past now."
She turns back around, making her way through the snow and the trees, leaving Cassian to do nothing but follow behind her. He keeps replaying her words, the look on her face. It digs in like claws into his mind and clogs his throat, settling like a stone in his gut when he swallows hard around the ache.
How did he not know? How did he let this fester right underneath their noses, rotting all the way to the foundation until that void split open between them? How can he fix this? How can he explain to her exactly what happened all those months ago?
"Oh, there you two are."
Cassian looks up at the voice, watching as Rhys and Feyre step out from between the trees and into their path, both their smiles wide and cheeks flushed pink.
"We found the perfect tree," Feyre continues, her eyes dancing between Cassian and Nesta. If she notices their change in demeanor, she thankfully doesn’t say anything.
Feyre leads them back to the tree they’ve chosen, and Cassian and Rhys make quick work of chopping it down and carrying it back to his truck. They load the tree into the back and then all clamber back inside, making the drive back to the house.
Feyre fills most of the car ride back with aimless chatter, and Cassian has never been more grateful. He’s certainly not in any type of mood for chatting, and it’s better than a stilted silence settling over the truck. As they follow the winding mountain roads back to the cabin, Cassian keeps glancing toward Nesta out of the corner of his eye, but she has her gaze firmly glued out the passenger seat window. He just needs to figure out a way to get them alone again, to really talk to her.
Azriel meets them outside once they pull into the driveway, and Cassian, Rhys, and Azriel carefully get the tree inside and set up in the living room. Rhys cuts away the strings holding the tree together for the drive, and Cassian trims some of the bottom branches, but then it’s good to go, and they all step back to admire it.
"Oh, it’s lovely," Carys remarks, her smile wide. "We should probably let it rest a bit before we hang any ornaments. How about baking some cookies?"
There’s various murmurs of agreement from everyone, Seren practically dragging Feyre into the kitchen, and Rhys and Azriel not far behind them.
"Actually, I have a bit of a headache," Nesta says, offering an apologetic smile. "I think I’m going to go lay down."
Carys nods her head in understanding, giving Nesta’s arm a comforting squeeze, but once Nesta vanishes down the stairs, she turns to Cassian with concerned eyes. "Is she alright?"
"Don’t worry," Cassian assures his mother. "I’ll take care of her."
With his mother going to join the others in the kitchen, Cassian makes his way toward the bedroom, veering off for a sight pit stop on the way. He slips out the front door and to his truck, finding what he’s looking for in the glovebox easy enough. He can hear Solstice music and laughter when he steps back inside, but he makes a beeline for the bedroom, not even bothering to knock first.
He finds Nesta sitting on their bed, already changed into her oversized tee and her fingers working free her braid. Her movements pause at the sound of the door, her eyes snapping toward Cassian. For a moment, he feels trapped in her gaze, tension winding up with every silent second that ticks past, but he closes the door with a soft snick, and the sound seems to snap the moment.
"I don’t want to talk about it, Cassian," Nesta mutters, turning her attention back to her hair.
Cassian shakes his head, walking around the bed and setting that little black box he grabbed out of his truck down on the nightstand. "You can say a lot of things about me, you can say I was an idiot because hell, I probably was, but I won’t let you say that I didn’t want a future with you."
Nesta’s entire expression changes as she takes in the box, and Cassian can practically see the whirls turning behind her eyes as she registers what it means. She reaches out with shaking hands, swallowing hard as she pops it open. Cassian knows it’s nothing to write home about, a simple gold band and a small cut diamond set between even smaller diamonds either side. With the roaring in his ears, Cassian sees more than he hears Nesta’s intake of breath, but then she’s snapping the box shut.
"This doesn’t mean anything," Nesta tells him, setting the ring box back on the nightstand.
"Are you kidding me? It means everything."
"Really? Because you clearly didn’t give it to me. All this proves is that I was right, and you changed your mind."
"That’s not fair," Cassian snaps, clenching his fists at his sides.
"Fine. Then enlighten me," Nesta scoffs, crossing her arms across her chest.
Cassian lets out a heavy sigh, dropping down onto the bed at Nesta’s feet. He drops his head into his hands, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. He takes a few breaths, trying to bring back down the anger simmering under his skin. This certainly isn’t how he imagined having this conversation, if ever, but there’s no way out of it now.
"When your father got sick, we drove out to be there for him and for your sisters," Cassian starts quietly.
"I remember."
"We had been there a couple nights, and you dragged Feyre and Elain away so they could get something to eat, and I stayed behind so that he wouldn’t be alone, and I thought it was the perfect opportunity to ask for his blessing… and he…" Cassian lets out a dry, humorless laugh, the memory of that night crawling back to the forefront of his mind. "He said no. He said he would never let a man like me marry his daughter, that he didn’t trust me to take care of you."
The silence that hangs in the air around them is suffocating, and when Cassian turns his head to look at Nesta, she’s blinking at him in surprise while she processes the admission. But within a second, her eyes are set ablaze, mouthing pinching down into a hard line.
"And you thought I’d care about what my father said?" Nesta asks, the anger palpable in her tone. "I hated the man."
"I know, but gods, Nesta, he was right," Cassian groans, scrubbing his hands down his face. "What did I have to offer you? I was working as a mechanic at the time. You deserve the best, and it wasn’t me. Isn’t me."
Nesta scoffs, turning her head away and curling her knees tight against her chest. "I guess you really didn’t know me as well as I thought."
"What’s that supposed to mean?"
"You, Cassian! You were the person I loved. We could have been living in a shoebox of an apartment in the worst part of town, and I would have been happy because it was with you."
Cassian can do nothing but gape, swallowing hard, but his voice still comes out as a hoarse whisper. "I’m sorry. The one thing I’ve always wanted is for you to be happy."
"Well, you failed, so congratulations."
Cassian wishes Nesta would have just stabbed him. It would hurt less than her words. His chest feels hollowed out, a too raw bruise that throbs with every inhale and exhale. He drops his own gaze to his lap, trying to push down the lump firmly lodged in his throat. He knows he should get up and leave, that he should put some space between them, but he’s not sure where he can go without his family seeing. Doesn't know where he could go where he wouldn't feel the gaping hole left by her, where that yawning void still growing between them would ever quiet.
"You still have the ring all these months later," Nesta’s voice breaks the silence. "Why?"
"I don’t know," Cassian mutters, but they both know it’s a lie.
"You could have sold it, gotten the money back. Could have given it to someone else."
"Give it to someone else?" Cassian shakes his head, letting out an incredulous scoff. "There will never be anyone else for me. You were always going to be it for me, Nes."
"You were always it for me too," Nesta whispers.
Cassian's heart skitters to a stop at the admission, hope blooming so fully in his chest it almost terrifies him. His entire body feels a second away from sparking, and for a moment, he swears he's not breathing. This is it. This is the moment. He and Nesta are teetering precariously on the ledge, and it's one step away from falling, but what if what's waiting at the bottom is everything Cassian has ever wanted, has always wanted.
He scoots closer to Nesta on the bed, tugging her legs until there's just a hairsbreadth between them, until he can feel her hitched inhale skate across his cheeks, until his vision is flooded with icy blue. Slowly, he reaches a hand up, tucking a strand of hair behind Nesta's ear before sliding down so his palm cradles her jaw. He swears he can feel her pulse rabbiting away beneath his fingers, but maybe that's his own heart pounding.
"I won't let you break my heart again," Nesta breathes into the space between them.
"Good," Cassian assures her, leaning even closer still. "Because I have no intention of ever doing that."
"I'm serious, Cassian."
"So am I. You can put that ring on your finger right now if you'd prefer."
"Is that your proposal?"
"My proposal is that I'm going to kiss you now."
Cassian waits for Nesta to protest, to push him away, but when it never comes, he presses his lips against hers. It tastes like coming home, and Cassian almost forgot how much kissing Nesta sets his blood alight. Their lips slide together with aching familiarity, and it’s not long before Cassian is deepening the kiss, his tongue sliding against Nesta’s until it pulls a groan from the back of his throat.
Nesta’s fingers find home in Cassian’s hair, tugging at the strands and nails scraping against his scalp. Cassian shifts them to press Nesta back against the mattress, tearing his lips away from hers just so he can press them along her jaw and down her neck. He finds that spot that always had her shuddering in his arms, and he can’t bite back his smirk when he elicits that exact reaction. He slides his hand up her leg, slipping under the hem of her tee to slide over her hip and up along her ribcage.
"Cassian," Nesta moans softly, arching up into his touch when he palms her breast.
"Use your words, Nes," Cassian chastises, nipping the skin of her collarbones.
Nesta sits up enough to fist her hand in the back of Cassian’s shirt, tugging the fabric up and off. She shoves hard at his shoulders until he falls back against the bed, quickly moving to straddle his hips.
"Haven’t you heard the saying actions speak louder than words?" Nesta challenges, reaching down to her own hem and peeling her tee off, tossing it aside.
Cassian leans up to capture her lips in another kiss. "Fuck, you’re so hot when you take charge."
Nesta grinds her hips down against his, and Cassian's head falls back against the pillows, a groan tearing free from between his lips. It's only when Nesta's hands move to his pant buckle that he snaps back to himself, his hands catching her wrists to pause her.
"Not so fast," Cassian tells her, moving his hands back to her hips and tugging her up his chest. "I haven't had a taste of you yet."
It takes a bit of awkward maneuvering, but soon Nesta's sleep shorts and panties are discarded to the bedroom floor as well. Cassian positions her how he wants, turning his head and pressing his lips along her inner thigh. He sinks his teeth in until Nesta is gasping above him, her hand once again burying in his hair.
"Remember, you'll have to be quiet so my family doesn't overhear us."
Cassian doesn't wait for Nesta to respond before pressing his mouth against her. He starts with languid, long strokes of his tongue then turns his attention to her clit, swirling and sucking just how he remembers she likes it.
When Nesta starts to rock her hips against his face, Cassian brings a hand up, his finger slipping inside easily with the wetness gathered there. One finger quickly becomes two, Cassian spurred on by the way Nesta cants her hips, the way his name falls like a prayer from her pretty lips.
Cassian continues to pump and curl his fingers. He sucks Nesta's clit between his lips, and Nesta shatters, tightening around his fingers and letting out a loud moan, as her body bows. He keeps moving his fingers to work her through the orgasm, slipping them free once she finally comes down from her high.
He grips Nesta's hips and flips them, sliding up her body until he can kiss her again. She wastes no time pressing her tongue into his mouth, moaning at the taste of herself. He bites at her bottom lip, tugging it, and revels at the flush that's settled high in Nesta's cheeks, that scatters down her chest in waves of pink.
"Gods, you're so beautiful when you come," Cassian tells her, burying his face in her neck again. "So fucking gorgeous."
"Cassian," Nesta begs quietly, bucking her hips up against his.
"What did I say about using your words? Where's that take charge woman gone?"
"Please."
"You beg so pretty too," Cassian smirks, turning his attention to her breasts, swirling his tongue against one nipple while palming the other.
Nesta arches up into him, letting out another breathy moan. "Please. I need you."
Nesta's hands reach for his pant buckle again, and this time, Cassian doesn't stop her. She shoves his pants and boxers down his hips, and Cassian kicks them both the rest of the way off. He quickly grabs and slides on a condom, settling back between Nesta's spread legs. He grips his cock, doing a few passes to coat it in Nesta's wetness before notching it at her entrance. He leans forward and crashes their lips back together as he presses forward with his hips, swallowing down both their collective moans.
"Fuck, you feel amazing, Nes," Cassian breathes against her lips.
"Fuck," Nesta echoes his sentiment, her nails biting into his shoulders. "Move."
Cassian starts to rock his hips, gripping Nesta's thigh and holding it tight to his waist, ensuring the angle keeps him going deep with each thrust. Nesta's hips rise to meet his, matching his movements so that their bodies move in tandem. Her bottom lip is trapped firmly between her teeth, clearly trying to keep quiet, but every moan and whimper that slips free skates down Cassian's spine and settles like molten pleasure deep in his gut.
"That's it," Cassian praises hotly, his lips pressed to her ear. "You take me so well."
"Harder," Nesta whispers on a moan.
Cassian doesn't need to be told twice. He snaps his hips, the room soon filled with the sounds of their moans and the slap of skin sliding together. Cassian can feel Nesta clench around him, can hear the way her moans go up in pitch, and he knows she's close. He slips a hand between them, drawing tight circles against her clit with his thumb.
"Cass, I— I'm gonna—"
"I know, sweetheart," Cassian assures her, keeping his pace. "Come for me. Come around my cock."
Nesta practically arches off the bed, her head thrown back on a silent scream. Cassian tries to keep working her through it, but with the way she squeezes so tightly around him, he only lasts a few more thrusts before he's tumbling down right after her. A few more slow, shallow rocks of his hips, and he drops his forehead to Nesta's shoulder, both of them catching their breath.
They clean up and slip back into bed, Cassian wrapping his arms around Nesta’s waist and pulling her back against his chest. It doesn’t take long for their breathing to align, for their hearts to sync. Although, perhaps their hearts have always been one split between two bodies, their souls twined together by golden thread, always recognizing the other, always melding together into one flame burning bright.
"I love you," Cassian breaks the quiet.
"We haven’t spoken in six months," Nesta reminds him, the amusement clear in her voice.
"It doesn’t matter," Cassian asserts, pressing his lips against Nesta’s shoulder. "I never stopped."
Nesta rolls over in his arms so that they’re face to face. She reaches a hand up, cupping his cheek, and Cassian leans into the touch, letting his eyes fall shut as he revels in the warmth there. He’s missed this, truly missed her. Turning his head, Cassian presses a kiss to the center of her palm. When he opens his eyes again, Nesta’s gaze is so soft, so full of that same emotion that swells and soars deep between Cassian’s ribs that it takes his breath away.
"I love you too."
~ * * * ~
In what seems to be the trend, Cassian wakes up curled around Nesta. Although, this time, there’s no attempted pillow walls, not even any clothes acting as a barrier between them. It has Cassian smiling softly as he tightens his arms around her waist, burying his face in her hair and breathing her in. He has to pull away slightly when Nesta stirs, turning around in his arms, but then he’s greeted with soft blue eyes still shaking off the remnants of sleep and cheeks dimpled with pillow creases.
“Morning,” Cassian greets quietly, sliding his fingers down Nesta’s temple and cheek. “Last day today.”
“You’re not going to disappear on me when we get back to the city, right?” Nesta asks, her tone light and teasing, but Cassian can see the worry hiding in the corners of her eyes.
“Good luck trying to get rid of me, sweetheart.”
He tips his head forward, breaching that distance between them and kissing her sweetly. Nesta sighs against his lips, practically melting against him. He pulls back slowly, deciding to steal one last kiss before shifting so he’s laying with his head nestled on Nesta’s chest, his arms snug around her waist. It’s his favorite way to lounge, especially when Nesta starts to gently card her fingers through his hair.
“You know we can’t stay here all day, right?” Nesta reminds him, and when Cassian merely hums noncommittally, he can perfectly imagine the way she must be rolling her eyes. “Your family is going to come looking for us.”
“Let them.”
“You really want your mother walking in on us naked in bed?”
Cassian groans, but he knows she’s right. It takes all of his willpower to force himself to peel away from her and sit up. He stretches his arms up above his head and clambers off the bed, holding out his hand. Once Nesta settles her palm against his, he tugs her to her feet, leading them both into the bathroom. It’s a bit of an awkward squeeze, fitting them both in the shower, but Cassian gets to kiss Nesta under the spray of water and she lets him wash her hair. They head out of the bedroom once they’re both dressed for the day, finding Rhys, Feyre, and Azriel all lounging in the living room.
“Good night last night?” Rhys asks, the sip of coffee he takes doing nothing to hide his smirk.
“As good as I’m sure your night following the snowball fight was,” Cassian shoots back. “Or did you cash in on that deal at the tree farm?”
“You told him about our deal?” Feyre hisses, smacking Rhys in the arm.
“Feyre darling, I—”
“Oh, good. You’re all awake and here,” their mother interrupts, stepping in from the kitchen with Seren just behind her. “Let’s do gifts before everyone has to hit the road.”
While his mother starts sorting through all the wrapped items neatly stacked beneath the tree, Cassian slips into the kitchen, quickly preparing two mugs of coffee. Nesta has moved to sit beside her sister on the sofa when Cassian returns, so he sidles up beside her, handing over her mug and dropping a kiss to her sweater clad shoulder. Carys steps over to them once they're settled, two perfectly wrapped boxes in her hands.
"This is for you," Carys explains, holding out the larger of the two toward Cassian. "And this one's for you, Nesta."
Nesta blinks a few times in surprise, but slowly, she reaches her free hand up and takes the gift. Carys continues to stand there in front of them, her eyes bright and expectant, so Cassian sets his mug down on the coffee table, tearing into his gift. He opens the box to find a pair of sweaters inside, and while the quality is definitely nice, he's not quite sure what about them qualifies for excitement. Still, he turns a smile toward his mother, ready to offer his thanks, but Carys eyes are glued to Nesta.
Cassian's own gaze drops to Nesta's lap, to the gift opened there. It's a book, the corners of the hardcover slightly worn, but Cassian recognizes the looping black letters of the title. Nesta opens the front cover, tracing the inscription written on the first page with her finger.
"My mother read me this book growing up, and I read it to the kids when they were growing up, but I want you to have it," Carys explains, reaching down to gently squeeze Nesta's wrist. "Maybe one day you'll have a daughter of your own to read it to."
Carys settles Cassian with that same look she's been shooting at him all weekend, and he's glad he set down his coffee because he's quite confident he would have choked on it.
"You know you still technically have a daughter of your own you could read it to," Seren pipes up, her teasing tone thankfully breaking any building awkwardness.
"Oh, hush," Carys chastises, but she steps back over to the tree, handing out the rest of the gifts.
It's not long before Nesta ends up with another gift in her hands, this one a card. Carefully, she pulls it free from the envelope, opening it up and the gift inside slipping out and into her lap. She picks it up, eying the two tickets to her favorite podcast that are coming to town in a few months for a live recording. Nesta’s lips part in surprise, her eyes lighting up as she reads the writing on the tickets over and over.
“Those are from me by the way,” Cassian offers, slipping an arm around Nesta’s waist and tugging her closer still. “Maybe you’ll invite me to be your plus one?”
Nesta looks down at the tickets again before raising her gaze to Cassian with a frown. “I didn’t get you anything.”
“That’s alright,” Cassian assures her, reaching up and tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Finally getting you back is the best gift you could have given me anyways.”
Nesta rolls her eyes, but the slight uptick to her lips gives away her amusement. “You are such a sap.”
“Yeah, but you love me anyways,” Cassian shoots back with a wink and a smirk.
Nesta leans forward, stealing a quick kiss. “You’re right. I do.”
Cassian doesn’t even bother biting back his wide grin. “Happy Solstice, Nes.”
“Happy Solstice.”
~ * * * ~
One month later
“Can I come out yet?”
“Not yet,” Cassian calls back, quickly spooning out the sauce onto the two plates he’s prepared and laid out on the counter.
He can hear Nesta’s amused huff of annoyance, even from the kitchen, and it has him biting back a smile. He steps over to the kitchen table, straightening out the table cloth he’s set there and lighting the candles. He sets the plates down next, pouring them each a glass of wine. He pats down his pockets one last time, taking a last, steadying deep breath and heading for the bedroom door.
“My lady,” Cassian begins, offering Nesta a flourish of a bow. “Dinner is served.”
Nesta quirks an eyebrow at his dramatics, but she stands up from their bed, walking over to him and linking her arm through his. Cassian leads them the couple of feet from their bedroom back into the kitchen, Nesta’s steps coming to a halt as her eyes sweep over his whole setup.
“I don’t understand. What’s the occasion?” Nesta asks, even as Cassian guides her to the table and pulls out her chair for her.
“Today marks officially one month since Solstice, since we got back together,” Cassian explains, settling into the seat opposite her.
Nesta continues to look at him dubiously, but she digs into her plate, so Cassian does the same. Nesta chats about her job and her latest case while they eat, and Cassian is glad for her to fill the quiet, his nerves starting to get the best of him. His leg bounces anxiously beneath the table, but he prays that Nesta doesn’t notice any of his tells.
When both their plates are cleared, Cassian is quick to gather them and carry them to the sink. The reprieve gives him an opportunity to take a few more deep breaths, to attempt to calm his heart that rages away between his ribs. He slips his hand into his pocket as he spins back around, finding Nesta with her chin propped in her hand, her eyes almost expectant. He should have known he’d never get anything past her.
“Should we just skip ahead?” Cassian teasingly asks. “Or do you still want to hear the speech I prepared?”
“Why ruin all your hard work?” Nesta shoots back.
Cassian rolls his eyes fondly, but he steps over to the kitchen table, lowering down onto his knee and taking Nesta’s hand in his. He’s sure that Nesta can feel the way his own shakes, but he can feel the way her own pulse dances beneath his fingers. He keeps his focus on her face, on the swirling seas of her eyes and the way they soften as they watch him.
“Nesta,” Cassian begins, counting her freckles with his breaths to keep his tone steady. “I knew from the very first moment I saw you, the first time you turned that gaze toward me in that lecture hall and told me to fuck off, that there would never be another woman for me. There’s no one else who gets me the way you do, no one who challenges me, no one who infuriates me some days. And there’s certainly no one else I’d rather spend the rest of my life with, so… Nesta Archeron, will you marry me?”
Nesta practically leaps from her chair as she tackles him, her arms wrapping around his neck. Cassian’s own arms secure around her waist, trying to steady them as they tumble back onto the floor. He laughs into her hair, but the sound is wet even to his own ears, as happiness blooms so fully between his ribs, he feels like his chest just might burst.
“So, is that a yes then?”
Nesta pulls back just enough to cup his face between her hands. “Yes. Obviously, yes.”
Cassian slips the ring from the box, that same one that’s been burning a hole in his mind, in his truck’s glove box all these months, sliding it onto Nesta’s finger. He admires it for only a second, how it looks settled against her skin, but then he’s pulling Nesta into a kiss. He keeps his arms snug around her, holding her close, but their kiss is little more than their lips pressed together with the way they both can’t seem to stop smiling. When Cassian does pull away, he doesn’t go far, resting his forehead against hers, laughing breathlessly.
“Wait until we tell my mother.”
fin