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nestasgalpal · 6 months

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I'm crying with this comment 😭😭😭😭

Can't think straight when we are together Pt. 4 [Nessian]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

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This townhouse had been in Rhys' family for generations, its living room a witness to almost all their hangovers, but now that the happy couple had officially moved in, the space was unrecognizable. Feyre's paintings hang on every wall, and instead of the mismatched cups they had collected over the years, a new set was now waiting to be used. The boxes with the old stuff were stored away, so Feyre and Rhys could start filling the rooms with their own belongings.

Cassian's heart warmed when he saw the place. Of course, a part of him missed the sense of familiarity when he entered a room, but at least he got to be part of the new memories they would make here.

The joy of the night was that, and collecting the jackpot. "How in hell did you miss this happening?" Cassian poked fun at Amren, who hadn't guessed correctly in the poll made almost 10 years ago about who would move in with their partner first.

"I thought you and Az would move in together and be the type of roommates who have the entire block wondering if they are really good friends or really good friends." Amren wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, and Cassian roared laughing again. She waved her piece of paper in the air accusingly, as if it was his fault she lost.

Fifty bucks wasn't a fortune, but it was definitely more than the others got. Mor had trusted her own ability to find a partner quicker than the rest. Amren had put all her eggs in the basket of a bromance that never happened. Az himself had been 15 years old and in love, and therefore it was Mor's name on his piece of paper. And Rhys, in an unexpected turn of events, had tried to make a joke out of putting Amren's name on it next to a poorly drawn knife, as if implying she would be the first one to move in with her partner, but violence would be involved.

Not only didn't he win, but, to his disappointment, he didn't even get a laugh out of the crowd.

So Cassian was now fifty dollars richer than he was that morning.

"I'm a little hurt no one put me." He confessed, the grin still hanging on his lips.

Rhys rolled his eyes. "Come on, man, you know you'll be last. I think Amren's hunch was right: You'll live with friends until all of us move out." The collective agreement when all the guests laughed, had Cassian frowning. "What?" Rhys saw the need to explain himself when he saw Cassian wasn't joining in the laughter. "You are the kind of guy who would rather spend time with friends than anything else. And I'm not complaining!" Again, everyone agreed.

Mor went a little further with the explanation that, apparently, only Cassian needed. "Cass, we know we are lucky to have you. I would hate having to share the best friend ever with anyone but the people in this room. And your career will also benefit from it."

Indeed, his prospects to go pro within the next year did benefit from him not having to divide his time three ways: football, friends and love life. There was still something that bothered him, though. But Cassian knew he should be grateful for how blindly his friends trusted that he would always be there for them. That was his role, after all. Good, reliable, always willing Cassian.

It's my fault, I'm the one who never sought a love life in the first place. Cassian thought, trying to rub it off.

But the itch didn't go away—not fully. Deep down, Cassian knew it didn't make sense, as Rhy's dream career was the exact same one he was pursuing. And love had never been something he was expected to give up in order to achieve it. Just the opposite: they were here celebrating it.

"I mean," Amren was adding now, as the conversation had kept going without him, "we don't even have enough chairs to grant you a plus one, so even if we wanted that for you," She shrugged, "we can't afford it."

Ouch.

"Yeah, I get it." He laughed without feeling it, doing his best to mask it. The topic clearly wouldn't die until he agreed. "As me being in a relationship would be inconvenient for all of us, I promise you I never will." He placed a hand over his heart as he made his vow.

As simple as that, everyone moved on.

The paint color for the walls was perfect. Were they thinking of adding a lamp in that dark corner? Mor made a point to mention how trendy wall molding was at the moment, and Az made a point to mention how that kind of feature only collected dust. The extra cleaning was a dealbreaker for Feyre; she had noticed in the last few days how much dust the paintings collected and wasn't planning on spending even more time cleaning the walls.

Football and the draft being around the corner was the next topic, one Cassian was thrilled to get into. He expected to be picked in the first round, and so did Rhys.

"You've got it, man." There was not a pinch of doubt in his friend's voice. "My dad heard our city's team wants you, so it's a done deal. Next season, you'll be playing for Velaris."

"It would make more sense to pick you in the first round: quarterback, team captain and the mayor's son." Cassian argued.

Az didn't fully agree. "I don't know, Cass. Your stats are better. If they don't pick you in the first round, you might not be there for the second one."

The three of them got deep into the discussion and stopped paying attention to whatever the girls were saying in their parallel conversation. From time to time, Cassian caught Feyre mentioning her sisters or her parents. He knew they hadn't taken her decision to drop out well; otherwise, she wouldn't be here with her life packed in boxes. He made an effort to pay even less attention to her. Feyre's family was a topic he would rather not hear about, for his own reasons.

"There is an implied pressure for the other teams not to pick Rhys if they go with you in the first round." Azriel was insistent on the fact that Cassian would be picked by Velaris' team first, then Rhys in the second round. Cassian wasn't so sure, and Rhys was on the fence. "Obviously, the mayor's son playing for another city wouldn't sit well with anyone."

"Do you see how offensive it is to imply the only reason the team wants me is my dad? I am the fucking captain in the college league!"

"Yet Cass has been MVP for the last three years. Out of four." He added, more worked up by the second.

"I mean, it is a factor, Rhys." Cassian wasn't planning on fooling himself to protect Rhysand's ego. His dad had intel on the team's plans, and knowing that was enough to figure he was part of the conversation... and conclude what that meant.

Neither of the three was budging. "He is your father in some way too." Rhys tried arguing.

Rhysand's parents had fostered Az and him for a couple of years and treated them like their own, that was true. But they were in their twenties now, and while Rhys was getting a townhouse as a gift in the middle of the semester, Cassian and Az paid for their shared dorm on campus themselves. The three of them would always see each other as brothers, Cassian had no doubt, but in reality, Rhysand's father had long ago stopped taking care of them as such. His mom, though, still had them go over for dinner at least once a week, and made sure they had presents under the tree each Christmas.

Just like the last one, the topic of the draft died unresolved, and the night went on. Board games were followed by charades, and the wine kept flowing, making it harder every round to perform.

Cassian did his best to play a horse, although his teammates were having a hard time understanding his gestures. He laughed and drank, focusing on the game as the back of his mind remained unsettled. As he played charades, it played with the idea that something was off tonight.

Perhaps it was the boxes in the living room, so similar to the ones where he and his mom used to put their few belongings when they moved from one tiny place to another. The flats she could afford were never bigger than this living room, and their things had certainly never filled them as much as Feyre and Rhys' did.

It could also be the topic of the draft. Of course, he wanted to stay in the city with his friends, but, as Az had pointed out, his chances were dependent on how much influence politics had in the decision.

The annoying rumble troubling him could, of course, be caused by the same anguishing fear that had a month ago settled in his mind and conquered it. It took on a new form now, but the dilemma was the same as it was the last time: What did he want, and what was he willing to pay for it? In the scenario where Velaris' team didn't pick him and another did, accepting would mean leaving this place behind—his friends. So, again, was his career on the list of things he was willing to sacrifice in order to keep life as he knew it unchanged? It was hard to tell right now, drunk as he was. Especially considering he had been regretting his first call from the moment he made it.

Cassian was repulsed by his own cowardice.

Despite his inner distress, he didn't let any of it show. He was present in the board game and alert enough to stop Amren, his assigned partner, from launching herself over the table and slapping Az when he caught her cheating. Az's life was saved, Cass was thanked, and the balcony door was opened so the smokers could take a break.

"I got this." He let Feyre know when she started picking up the game pieces to tidy up the table. "Why don't you go set up the karaoke?"

She did. Or tried to. Where had they packed it? "If you were me yesterday, would you say the karaoke belonged in the miscellaneous box, the living room miscellaneous box, or the home items miscellaneous box?" She asked him across the room, pointing at each one at a time. They were now alone. Feyre pouted. "This was supposed to be a relaxing weekend! I can't believe I exchanged a spa for an unpacking season."

They both laughed.

"Don't rush it, Fey. You have a thousand little rooms to fill, so the labels you wrote before coming here won't help you make sense of anything."

"There are so many rooms, right?" She smiled. "Not now, of course, but maybe after we've made this place ours, we can start tearing down a few walls and make it more of an open concept."

Nodding, Cassian closed the box that contained the game and put it on the shelf they had taken it from. "I like the little rooms, though. I like the privacy of small spaces better than large floor plans, which I wouldn't know how to furnish." He went to help Feyre figure out the boxes. Two sets of hands and eyes would, or should, find the karaoke faster. "I grew up sharing one-bedroom apartments with my mom. The living room would sometimes be the kitchen as well. Or that, plus the bedroom, not gonna lie."

Feyre nodded, understanding. She had lived like that for a few years as well, when her father's company declared bankruptcy. That was a long time ago, though, and the estate Cassian had wandered through last month was proof of it. Like businessmen do, her dad had found his way up again. Cassian had learned at a young age that connections were more valuable than money itself. If you knew the right people, doors would open for you, no matter what.

That was the problem, wasn't it? Some of the people he was competing against knew everybody, while his claim to success relied on his talent alone.

"How do you imagine your place?" Feyre asked. "Something small in the city?"

Cassian laughed. "The opposite. I want a big place. And far away from here. With a large garden for the dogs I'll have to run." Feyre confessed to liking the idea of animals as well. "I'll have my things all over the place. Not in my room, because the entire house will be mine." She smiled and imagined the place he was describing. "I'll need long hallways to frame all my football memorabilia. I've been collecting it since I was a kid, and it will be the first thing to find a place for. Then, we can fill the rest of the walls with her books, but my football stuff goes first."

Eyes wide, she opened her mouth to say something, but Cassian was too into the picture already. "Plus, I can build her the shelves, but the signed shirts have to go into these specific glass frames. They are custom-made, so I need to take care of them before anything else."

"Right, I'm sure she will understand." Feyre murmured.

Shit.

"I mean, whoever. I might even get the house before I get a girlfriend and won't worry about it for a long time, so whatever." He laughed, struggling not to stumble upon his words. "That's why my things have priority."

"Yeah, it makes total sense." Feyre pretended with him. "You go first."

"Nesta's spoiled ass won't be happy about that." Mor's voice took both Feyre and him by surprise, and the new homeowner almost dropped the bundle in her hands back into the box.

It could be because he had never been able to lie to Mor, but he didn't try to mask the feelings soaking his words this time. "That was unprompted."

"No, it wasn't. You were thinking about her." She countered, as if that explained the comment. "How do I know?" She read his mind again. "Your face changes when you do. You look more stupid than usual."

The silence was awkward, and none of them moved. Cassian didn't want to talk about Nesta right now. And if Mor didn't like her, which was clearly the case, then why did she even have to bring her up?

Feyre was the first to react, but that wasn't much help. "I'll go look for the karaoke in some boxes I have in the bedroom." She excused herself and left.

"What the fuck is your problem?" He snapped when they were alone.

"Do you know how hard it is for me to see you plan your life with someone who doesn't care if you live or die?"

Cassian crossed his arms over his chest and took a step forward. This was not the day to be condescending. "Do you know how fucking insufferable it is being told what you should and shouldn't do as if you didn't have a damn brain of your own?" Mor was taken aback by his sudden aggressiveness. "Keep her name out of your mouth and let me live my fucking life."

He didn't raise his voice, but he was cutting with every word. Mor just stood there, speechless. Cassian didn't know what had taken over him either, he only knew Mor had broken a candid moment between him and Feyre with nasty and unnecessary comments. The first fucking good moment he had had in the entire night.

"Go ruin someone else's life with your self-centered advice, Mor. You are done with mine."

Feeling offended brought her back to life. "I'm your friend, it's my job to protect you!"

His face was probably redder by the second. "From what? A 125-pound girl that needs glasses to read the ingredients on her cereal and spends her afternoons studying the names of pharmaceutical drugs?" The surprising choice of words for his description of Nesta stole a shocked laugh from Mor, as well as from Cassian, unfortunately. That seemed to lighten the mood. "See, now you've made me roast the girl I want!" He accused, a smile lingering in the corner of his lips. Mor was doing her best to contain hers, and he appreciated the effort. "I really want to be with her —read the labels for her and distract her mind when she is burned out. Do you really have reasons to dislike her so much you must stop me? Can't you just get a fucking hobby?"

Accepting that she didn't, in fact, have a specific reason, Mor nodded her head. Cassian saw a glimpse of regret for what she had been doing in her eyes, even if pride hid it again a moment later. All was said, at least as far as his need to defend himself and Nesta went.

"I am sorry, Cass. I am sorry I let some of that ugly overprotectiveness get between the two of you... and us. But you have to understand that I don't want things to change."

Her voice cracked in the last sentence, and Cassian couldn't stay mad because he understood. He understood Mor better than the rest, hence why he expected the same thing from her in return. She had always reciprocated, which was probably the reason it had taken Cassian so long to see she was actually sabotaging things for him. He would have never thought to be wary of her, of all people.

There had always been a silent recognition between the two. It was a bond that never turned romantic, but both had always been painfully aware they had, to some extent, sacrificed their own happiness for the group. Cassian never pursued a love life, knowing they would never be okay with someone taking his focus from them. He had at times wanted to, but the fear of losing what they had in the process and being left out had always stopped him.

Mor, on the other hand, had endured almost ten years of yearning from Azriel, only so she didn't risk the group having to pick between the two of them. Again, out of fear she would end up losing the only people whose presence in her life mattered. She always got that, and saw the same fears in him. Shouldn't she sympathize with his stance more than anyone else? Shouldn't she be the one having his back at this crossroad, where desire to have a life beyond this friendship finally rivaled with the guilt of not doing what was best for them? Now that Cassian, for the first time, was willing to explore which was greater?

In order to protect the group's integrity, Cassian had let the one person he had ever wanted to be with get away.

"I really am." She muttered. They shared a knowing look, and this time, Mor's pride didn't cloud the hurt and regret in her eyes.

Chewing the inside of his cheek, Cassian ran his hands through his hair and said nothing. She reached for her purse, a bag way too big for daily use that somehow was always full to the brim. He saw her dive inside through the corner of his eye but didn't really pay attention until she put a white card in his face. "Here. This is for you. Feyre and I were going to use it, but plans changed." He rolled his eyes and said she needn't make him a gift to compensate, he knew she was sorry, but Mor insisted. "Just take it, will you? And go." He agreed, uncomfortable, just so this would end.

His friend seemed to be waiting for him to do something else, although Cassian wasn't sure what. He looked at the card, as she may want him to be more excited about it. That's when he saw it —the name for the reservation. "Archeron." He read. "How am I supposed to get in, Mor? This is in someone else's name."

The sassy, confident smile was back on his friend's lips. She winked at him and palmed his shoulder. "Let this be my olive branch to you two, okay?" Cassian was starting to join the dots. "And pack a suit!"

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