For as long as they’d been here, it was still strange to go back to a so-called normal life. Mingling, people, emotions that didn’t include massive amounts of trauma being thrown her way. Just the usual gossip corners and people sipping their drinks or dragging lovers off to corners. It was oddly refreshing for someone who usually felt too much, but it also left her with more than a few heated looks in Cassian’s direction.
Nesta had kept herself close to Elain for a large portion of the early evening, giving into a few dances, but content to slowly sip her glass of fae wine and keep to the edges to avoid her dress getting stepped on more than once.
Elain had received a whispered promise in her ear from Nesta before she escaped for the evening, and Nesta found herself alone. She found Cassian easily, not far - never far from her - and gave him a gentle mental nudge before finding an empty balcony to escape to.
The first option had not been empty, and Nesta promptly closed the doors again after her rude interruption, an apology murmured on her lips as she moved onto the next one. She left one of the doors cracked open, knowing that Cassian would find her as he always did. Finally, she was able to breathe. Vallo’s night sky was beautiful tonight, and Nesta braced her hands on the balcony railing as she looked out across the city from the castle’s vantage point.
Cassian was thinking about home. The Night Court was a complicated creature, and events were usually a front to perpetuate a more sinister rumor. There was a certain demeanor he had to present, a status quo of formality. But here, in this castle, it all melted away. This was what the Night Court had to look forward to after the war. And when he happened to catch a few glances from Nesta, Cassian realized this was what he had to look forward to with her.
He had danced with Elain, as promised. And socialized with fellow defense members and friends. And he drank fae wine, which was the only reason he questioned the nudge. Not because he didn't want that attention from Nesta, but because he thought he dreamt it, wanted it too much that his inebriated brain had supplied it for him. But he was sober and clear eyed. Cassian followed her to the balcony she was waiting on.
His wings unfurled, stretched a moment in the cool evening air after being trapped against his back for most of the night. His attention was focused solely on Nesta, silhouetted by the skyline and the stars. Cassian exhaled slowly, the same kind when he needed to center himself before battle, or doing something incredibly stupid, or both.
Cassian approached, his hand feather-light on the small of her back. "See anything interesting? I admit, I haven't flown over this way to tell."’
Nesta could have turned herself around and found herself in Cassian’s arms very easily, she knew it, she saw it in the back of her mind. It made her heart beat just a little faster, but she couldn’t bring up the courage to do it, so Nesta stretched her arms just a little wider on the railing and avoided looking directly at him. She’d seen him all night, looking sinful and dangerous, and knew just how delicate those hands could be.
It didn’t make her any less of a coward in that moment, though.
“For a city that no one can seem to pin down or map, it’s surprisingly vast from this view. It doesn’t feel as suffocating as I expected.” Velaris wasn’t either, for as crowded as it could feel. But the view here was different and had started feeling more like home with each passing week they were stuck. She was quiet when she continued, still not looking at him. “I used to love balls like this. The intrigue, the gossip, the drama of it all.” Nesta clicked her tongue. “Now it seems I prefer the quiet of a balcony as a refuge from it all.”
Cassian knew that move, the way she made more space for herself without changing her position. But Nesta didn't push him away or suggest they go back inside. His hand slid firmer on her back, comforting and secure. That was his own promise of nothing more, it didn't have to be anything more than just standing in each other's company on this balcony.
"For someone who is not inclined to fly, being out on the balcony seems—" Cassian hummed, amused, and glanced over to Nesta, letting her fill in the missing words. She was beautiful, she was always beautiful. But tonight, it was almost too much to look at her. Whatever small composure he maintained around Nesta felt vulnerable, fragile, as his attention kept darting between her and the city lights. How weak he had become in her presence, how little he cared.
"As someone who attended many of these things, most of it was boring. You're not missing much by being out here. Gossip and drama doesn't seem like you." He paused, the music from inside filtering out, muffled by the closed door.
Cassian leaned in oh-so-casually to whisper in her ear, "Do you want to dance?"
“There’s a floor beneath my feet.” Nesta answered simply, as if the floor solved it. It wouldn’t serve either of them well for her to grumble about Rhysand and his torture flying now, she liked when Cassian was like this. Quiet, earnest. She wasn’t wearing her new cloak now enough to show him her newfound bravery, as far as the flying was going, but that could come later.
She turned now, towards him, and looked towards the door. Not ready to people again with the mortals, but so close to him that his everything radiated towards her. They weren’t like her, the balls, the people-- but she was also different now than she was before. “It was just easier to pretend it was.” Building a life about what was expected of you was something Nesta was very good at.
In days past.
Now, she didn’t do anything unless she wanted to, and it was telling when she looked back at him, chin tilted up as she held out one hand. “Not out there.”
Cassian was quiet as she spoke. For someone who normally made a lot of noise and filled up space with just his presence, it was humbling to be with Nesta like this and not feel overbearing. His mind went to other things—her mortal life, an eternity ago. How briefly she would have existed outside of his knowledge. Cassian was not thankful for the trauma that the cauldron had put Nesta through, but if he now had the chance to make this life better for her, he could be grateful for that. It seemed wrong, and Cassian didn't know how to satiate both sides of him.
Her outstretched hand, agreeing to dance, helped make a decision in the present. He took it, and stepped a few paces with her into the center of the balcony.
"No, not in there," Cassian agreed. All his courtly manners were rusty, and dancing even more so, but he bowed for propriety's sake, kissed the back of her hand, and drew her in close. His hold was gentle, light, and his steps were more shuffling than anything trained into him. Dancing with Nesta was more about proximity rather than showing anything off.
His cheek rested against hers, so that the softness of the moment could stay without having to raise their voices. "I had hoped, when Velaris was recovered from the war, Rhysand might throw something extravagant like this to celebrate. And I would have taken you."
Nesta’s hand slid up Cassian’s arm to rest on his shoulder, fingers flexing just above the muscles she felt there. She shouldn’t have been appreciating just how solid he felt, or how much she enjoyed being held by him, but that was a fact she knew from time past and one she hadn’t quite forced herself to let go of. Elain told her she shouldn’t let go of it at all - embrace it.
Nesta was historically bad at embracing things that were good for her.
“I would have said no.” It was a matter-of-fact statement, in her typical curt tone, but softened just slightly to not hurt his feelings. Ugh, she felt weak not ribbing him directly where it hurt, but the intention wasn’t to tell him no as much as it was to protect her own self. “I just wanted to forget. Not celebrate.” Even removing the head of Hybern hadn’t pulled the memory of her own father’s death from her, not much would.
The memory felt farther away than it ever had before, being held in Cassian’s protective arms as they moved gently to the music just barely reaching them. Even remembering, his arms were the closest she was to forgetting.
Cassian let out a small laugh, low, right by her ear. He expected nothing less from Nesta; rejection was practically a conversation topic between them. But his mood went somber when she mentioned her need to forget. There were things Cassian wanted scrub from his memory too, but he didn't have that luxury. He had been alive for a very long time, and knew the longevity of events in his subconscious. Days and years were interchangeable. Cassian would blink and a generation would be there and gone. A conversation could stretch on for eternity. A battle could be months or only yesterday.
But every second that Nesta continued to suffer through her experiences were brutal. If his arms around her went the tiniest bit tighter at the thought, he wouldn't admit it. Protecting her had always been his priority. Only it was becoming harder to protect Nesta from herself. He could only provide a distraction.
He pressed his lips against her temple, his hand running up and down her spine, both intentionally and idly. "What do you want to do now? Not just tonight, but going forward?" Cassian asked, serious and intense, the same way he spoke when strategizing with Rhysand and Azriel before a fight. But Nesta's peace of mind was not a battle for him to win.
All he wanted was some direction, and he would march forward on her behalf.
Nesta sucked in a breath, feeling his fingers on her spine, his breath against the side of her house. She always felt so vividly, but Cassian was on another level. She felt so much of him at all times that it had been overwhelming in the past, like her nerve-ends were constantly on fire just being in such close proximity to him.
It never felt bad, just a lot for someone who didn’t know how to manage it. Learning over the months had helped, figuring out that this feeling wasn’t just her but so specific to Cassian--
There was no going back from it now. One of Nesta’s hands trailed up his chest, across his dark suit and to the tie at his neck. She grazed her fingers across it, threading the tie through her finger while she was quiet. Nesta leaned away, just a fraction, and looked up at him with an openly pleading expression plain on her face. “I want to feel alive.”
It was such an easy thing to say to him, more honest than she had been since their conversation after the bookstore debacle. Nesta ended it with being protective and tugging Cassian’s tie to bring his head in closer as she leaned up on her toes to press her lips to his.
Something was happening. Cassian could feel it, deep in his bones, in the core of his goddamn being. The emotion was one he often circled around, pressed against, but using better judgment tried not to engage in. But it was like this: Nesta grabbing his tie, her hand on his chest, saying she wanted to feel alive and Cassian didn't stop himself this time. No need for compartmentalizing something that was always on the brink of all-consuming.
His hands moved on instinct, coming to frame her face and keeping her close. If this was all she was going to allow, this one moment where their lips met, he couldn't let it be over that quick. He didn't want the only memory of Nesta's kiss to be the one where he lay dying on the battlefield. He wanted one where they were just themselves, learning, growing, understanding one another without the pressures of everything else holding them down. Like this, like this, like this.
They fit together like they were supposed to—like they always were meant to—and Cassian's kiss was intense but incomplete. There was so much more to give, but a sliver of doubt crept up inside him. And for a warrior who was trained to never second-guess decisions in the middle, he tore his mouth away from hers anyway. A precaution before he got lost in it, in her.
"I—Nesta, you, " Cassian was out of words, out of rational thought, the doubt that stopped him already receding. All he wanted to do was kiss her again. So he did.
When not under penalty of death, bleeding and very little hope behind them, Nesta knew that somehow once they started this, they wouldn’t stop. She knew there was more to them than just passion and sniping. But knowing and giving in had always been two different things, and giving in was something she’d fought tooth and nail to do, to not allow herself to feel exposed and weak with a man ever again.
Cassian made her feel the opposite, and she wasn’t used to it. It was overwhelming and like fire raging in the back of her mind, as her hold on him tightened and she met his second kiss with just as much enthusiasm as the first, maybe more.
It was so strange to know now just how hard she fought against what felt so natural.
It didn’t feel natural to pull away, but she forced herself to do just that, “Cassian—” With a little laugh, her head dropped down, to avoid kissing him again, immediately after. “All this time, you knew— Knew it was inevitable.”
When Nesta didn't pull away immediately the second time, Cassian smiled. It was hard to kiss Nesta when he was more teeth than anything else, but he couldn't help it. There was a new blossom of happiness in his chest, and Cassian knew it was Nesta's, mirrored inside of him. Her laugh made him laugh right back.
"I didn't want to make assumptions. I didn't want—" Cassian sighed and pressed his lips to the top of Nesta's head. Holding her was enough. "To jeopardize things. To have less than I had. I would have waited." Forever was implied, though not said. Cassian pushed the limits and boundaries of others, but there was a deep well of patience inside of him, never-ending, bottomless. Maybe that was why they were so complementary to one another. Maybe it was why Cassian found himself picking Nesta every time.
"I was never going to ask for something you weren't ready to give. But I would be a liar if I said I didn't want more." A hand trailed over her shoulder, down her arm, linking fingers together. He drew her hand to his face, kissing the back of it, the epitome of gentlemanly, courtly. Where they went from here was tenuous and unsure, but in the moment Cassian was content to be like this.
His voice was light, gently teasing, "Is it horrible?"
She didn’t- wasn’t - ready to discuss things, heavily or not. Nesta wasn’t one for deep conversation of feelings, because she had a terrible time articulating them, especially when her brain was already overloaded and everything she was feeling was too much, in regards to Cassian. It left her foggy and unable to truly think around him.
That was something Nesta was not about to admit, as well. It left her too vulnerable, even more than kissing him did. Maybe the moment had passed, though Nesta was reminded they were in public, and not far from the masses of people. Being distracted now was a mistake of the highest order, when anyone could stumble upon them.
“Kissing you? Yes.” There was an evil little smile on the edge of her mouth with that lie, and Nesta let him keep her hand, but backed up half a step to give herself a little room to breathe. She stared him down, though, eyes dark and telling as she watched his every move, teasing now. “I would have thought with all of that practice, you would be better. Shame.”
He liked this version of Nesta. Not that he didn't appreciate all of her, and all her moods, and all her strength. But this one, who was just kissed, and teasing, and being reserved yet open at the same time did something radical and wild inside his chest. She might have stepped away, but Cassian was right there, stepping back, but never leaving her orbit. He could be close without being close.
"You do know the best way to cut me to the quick, Nesta," Cassian said, with no heat behind it. He was well-versed in Nesta's rejections but this time he could see the mischief in her eye, the playfulness of it. He was still foggy-brained and pumping adrenaline into his veins at the thought of his lips against hers before, now, again. It was probably better that they had the most infinitesimal amount of space between them.
"But perhaps, we could try again? Since I have fallen out of practice, it seems. It's been a long time." He glanced briefly over his shoulder, aware of the thin barrier between them and the rest of the world. He didn't forget, he didn't want Nesta to think he forgot either. "Not here though."
“You like it.” An answer so simply given, but so confident that Nesta held her chin high and didn’t shy away from the fact. She knew he liked it, she always had. When Nesta truly wanted to punish Cassian, she simply ignored him. Stayed away. Avoided anything and all things. Having a snippy back and forth, cutting him down a few pegs.. It was things she liked as well.
Having an equal was strange. Having someone that matched wits with her and lied her fiery personality was even more strange, but she’d grown so accustomed to it now, that thinking of it possibly going missing for even days was unfathomable.
“Elain is already gone,” Nesta murmured, as she stepped back into his space, her long fingers trailing up to the lapel of his tailored jacket. The next request was one she’d never made before, so it felt… heavy. Important. Special, and like a peace offering was being given.“Fly us down to the road and we’ll walk the rest of the way home?”
He did like it. Cassian didn't have to say it. There was very little, if at all, he kept from other people, especially from Nesta. Anything she didn't know about him was not out of some sense of self-preservation—only that the opportunity had not yet come up to tell her. But the more they gravitated toward one another, the more she would know. The more he would know. His eyes were bright as he thought of future prospects of her company.
Except for when she came in close again, and her hands on him were causing Cassian to look to the sky and ask for... he had no idea. Resolve, composure, a little bit of self-control. Nesta was so good at breaking all that down. He knew more instances like this, like Nesta surprising him, were bound to happen. How was he going to continue on as before? Cassian was certain there was no going back, now.
"You are like no one else, Nesta," Cassian said, his hands around her waist. He wouldn't let her step away again. Now they had been those close, nothing else felt right. Cassian squeezed gently, as a warning, before he swept her up into his arms. Secure, safe, the opposite of any of her previously terrible flying experiences. He didn't want to risk ruining the second-chance she was giving him.
He approached the edge of the balcony, his wings slowly expanding out, anticipating flight. "You're sure?"
Even if she felt the solid hands, and knew she wasn’t going anywhere with Cassian holding her as he was, Nesta still wrapped both hands around his neck and shoulders, holding on with her own grip and reassurance. There was just that little sliver of doubt in something going wrong, a worry Nesta would likely never get rid of.
Or maybe it would just take time. Time, fortunately, was something they had now. Time to sort through things at their own pace, with no rush given to it. That she could handle.
“Not too fast,” Nesta could have been talking about the flight or them, it was left just open ended enough to be either as she wrapped a foot around his calf and allowed him to take off.