Chapter Text
Cassian didn't notice the girl with the square glasses and disinterested expression at first. It was because she was sitting all the way in the back of the auditorium, secluded from the view of most students, her head always buried in a textbook or a novel.
When he first saw her, really saw her, it was a mere coincidence. One rough morning when the world seemed darker than usual, Cassian sought the first quiet place around -- a small, secluded bookstore that he once spotted on his way to a seminar. He recalled that it was pretty gloomy, and when he found himself in front of it, wet from the rain, it seemed like the perfect spot to be alone.
Turns out he wasn't the only one thinking that.
Cassian scanned the relatively empty bookstore in just a few seconds, and came to two conclusions:
- they lacked customers
- this was also a coffee shop
The decor was pristine. Walls covered with paintings from all ages, rows and rows of books in all sorts of conditions and a circular staircase that led to another floor filled with more books. Hanging from the ceiling, as if pulled out from a fantasy book, were twinkling lights and blooming vines. Classical music was playing softly and Cassian immediately recognised the song: Flower Waltz by Tchaikovsky. The atmosphere was warmer than he'd expected, welcoming even. And right there, near the windows, sitting at one of the many empty tables, was the girl from his class.
Nesta, he recalled immediately. The only one who managed to get the highest grades in exams, yet she barely seemed to pay attention to anything or anyone.
So unaware, even now. She probably didn't even hear him come in, since her eyes were glued to her sketchpad.
An artist. Interesting.
"Hi! Can I help you?"
Cassian turned towards the old man with a few books in his arm and a huge smile on his face. It was hard not to return it.
"Hi," he said. "Do you have black coffee?"
The man nodded. "The best on the campus."
"Can you also spike it a bit?"
"Got any exams tomorrow?"
"No."
"Then no. Have a seat, I'll be right over with your coffee."
"Thank you," he said, fighting back his laugh.
Trying to distract himself and also curious as hell, Cassian approached the table where Nesta sat, still unaware of his presence. Without so much as an introduction, Cassian sat on the empty chair in front of her, a grin already splayed on his face.
It faltered when Nesta raised her eyes and looked at him for the first time.
For just a second, everything was quiet. His thoughts, his problems, the entire world.
Those icy eyes pierced him, rendering him speechless.
She is the most beautiful person I've ever seen, was his first thought.
She looks like she could kill me, followed suit.
"In case you haven't noticed, there are numerous free tables here, so feel free to pick another."
Even her voice sounded melodic. Fucking hell.
"Why would I sit alone when there's a familiar face around?"
Nesta raised her eyebrows. "Familiar? I don't even know who you are."
Cassian's grin slowly returned. "I'm pretty sure you do. We have the same classes. I've noticed you. Always with a book in your hands, always grimacing. Your name is Nesta Archeron."
If she was surprised, she didn't let it show. Instead, Nesta closed her sketchbook and placed it on the table.
"And you are?"
"Cassian," he answered with unusual enthusiasm.
"Cassian," she repeated his name, which stirred a certain fascination in him. "And what the hell do you want, Cassian?"
"I could use some company."
"Then go pet a dog. I'm busy."
"We can be busy together."
The look Nesta gave him would have probably scared him off a few years ago. But it was something about it, the hostile air surrounding her and the rigidness of her posture. It looked like she was trying very hard to maintain a certain image, come off as completely detached from everything and everyone. Void of emotion.
"Bounce."
"Don't tell me you don't get bored being alone after some time. Let me take a wild guess, you come here at least thrice a week, perhaps because even though you probably don't socialise much, you still feel the need to get out of the house."
Nesta squinted her eyes and crossed her legs. "You think I come here because I'm lonely?"
"Yes."
"And why are you here?"
"Perhaps I'm lonely, too."
Before Nesta could answer, the old man brought Cassian his coffee and another cup of what looked like hot chocolate for Nesta. To his bewilderment, Nesta accepted the cup with a warm smile, her eyes crinkling at the ends.
"You didn't have to, Walter. I'm already on my second."
The man -- Walter -- shook his head. "Nonsense. Since when do you have a limit when it comes to chocolate?"
"Fair enough," she replied with an almost, almost laugh.
Walter left with a nod to the both of them, and Cassian watched in wonder how that enticing smile dimmed and her scowl returned.
"You don't seem like the lonely type."
"For an avid reader, you should know better than to judge a book by its cover," was his quick reply. "How come you're friendly with him and not me?"
Nesta lifted the cup to her mouth and took a careful sip. "Because I like him. He lets me borrow whatever books I want. And as for you..." she measured him from head to toe, taking her sweet time. Cassian's heartbeat quickened. "You've been here for only five minutes and somehow, you already managed to annoy me. And I hardly think that my judgement is misplaced, since I've seen you in class, always in the middle of every group. You don't strike me as the sort who's in need of extra company."
Cassian's smile was nothing short of wicked. "So you already knew who I was."
Seeing his triumphant expression, Nesta's scowl deepened. "Don't flatter yourself. I observe everyone and everything."
"Which makes you a terrific artist, I bet," he replied with a pointed look to her sketchbook. "Can I see?"
One of her small hands gripped the sketchbook tightly. "No."
"Self-conscious?"
"I prefer the term "private".
After taking a sip of his coffee, Cassian leaned back on the chair and crossed his arms across his chest. There was an unmistakable fire in her eyes, a steel will in the way she held that sketchbook close, as if he might snatch it away any second now. This was, by far, the most hostile interaction Cassian had with anyone in his entire life.
Which made it one of his favourites.
"You're good at seeing, perhaps. Noticing the bits and pieces that people may usually ignore. What you said about me isn't wrong, since it's obvious you have an analytical eye, but unfortunately, it only sees what the world, and its people, show."
"Are you trying to tell me that you're faking it?"
"No," he laughed. "No. But being in the middle of the crowd can make you feel just as lonely as if you were the last person on this world."
Her anger seemed to dim little by little, as if she understood that.
"And that brought you here?"
After taking a long look around, taking in the bookshop once more, Cassian noted with a sad smile.
"We all need a haven from time to time. This seems like a good place. What about you? Running from something?"
A flash of emotion passed her face faster than lighting, yet Cassian didn't miss it.
What a pretty mask she was trying to paint. Too bad it had a few cracks here and there.
"I just like being alone."
"No one likes being alone all the time."
"Well, perhaps I am no one, so please do feel free to stop chiming in with your opinions. I have work to do."
Without another glance, Nesta reopened her sketchbook and placed it on her legs, so he wouldn't be able to see it. She picked up a black pen and began drawing or sketching or whatever she had been doing when he interrupted her.
"Alright," he said, opening his backpack. "I have work to do, too."
Cassian pulled out his notebooks and study guides and began studying for the exams that were looming in. Of course he saw Nesta glance at him here and there, trying to figure out what he was studying for, but said nothing.
Trying to hide his smile, Cassian tried to focus on his work, comforted somehow by Nesta's presence.
"You again. Don't you have better things to do?" said Nesta as soon as she entered the coffee shop and reclaimed her usual spot.
Cassian could barely contain his smile. Their casual bickering was more fulfilling than any sort of human interaction he had for quite some time.
"To be fair, no. I don't like studying home and I quite like your company."
"We don't even talk, Cassian," she rolled her eyes as she pulled out her sketchbooks.
"That's because you don't want to talk, Nesta dear."
Their eyes met and Cassian could swear that the corners of her lips turned upwards. It happened for only a second, because the next second her eyes were fixed on whatever she was drawing.
Cassian opened one of his books and resumed studying, though he kept glancing at her.
"Can I see what you're drawing?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because it's private."
"Are you drawing me naked, Nesta?" he fake-gasped, earning a smile from her that could be interpreted as "you truly are an idiot". Despite this, his chest felt warm, his stomach tied up in knots he couldn't even begin to untie.
"I'm not really into drawing horror stuff, but I'll let you know if I ever need you to model for me."
"Please, Michelangelo would've begged me to let him make a sculpture of this body."
Her smile widened. Cassian's mind focused solely on that, too perplexed to form any coherent words.
"I don't think he was that desperate, Cassian. But whatever helps you sleep at night."
His name on her lips, the quiet but steady flame in those icy eyes and her silver tongue had him completely enthralled. Really, there was no hope left for him.
They met almost daily here -- neither of them spoke in advance, but somehow they turned up at the same time and sat at the same table, doing different things. If Nesta had been nothing but hostile at first, now she would deign to speak with him, if only to amuse herself.
But not enough so he'd be able to learn something about her except obvious things, like her passion for drawing, literature and being away from the world. Even her body language was telling a lot about her: always alert, never with her guard down. The only moments she seemed to relax where when she was too caught up with drawing that she couldn't even notice.
And he was desperate to find out more about her. Even if he asked, the chances that Nesta would answer his questions were low.
His thoughts went silent the second Nesta turned her open sketchbook around and placed it in from of him.
"I painted this last night. It's a commission."
From all the things he'd expected Nesta to paint, otherworldly creatures that seemed way too realistic was not among the options. There was a graceful woman with teal skin, shrouded in a sleeveless, long dress that depicted the night sky. It was almost translucent, with a low-cut cleavage that showed off an opulent golden necklace. Her hair was a perfect mirror to the dress, spread across the upper part in graceful waves, filled with luminous orbs. On top of her hair was a enormous golden crown with black gems and her arms were stretched upwards, as if she was reaching for the sky itself. Her pointed ears were adorned with long earrings and her blue eyes were bright, hopeful. Her black lips were softly parted, as if in amazement of what she created.
"Do you like it?"
There was real emotion in her painting. The grace of her body, the careful details of her expression. Even the eyes, which said a great deal about people, seemed to be telling a story.
For a second, Cassian was dumbfounded.
"This is... This is incredible, Nesta. Damn, you're not playing around when it comes to painting, do you?"
There -- a full smile.
Fucking hell.
The woman's beauty in this painting was nothing compared to Nesta's.
"It's supposed to be a night goddess from a book. And no, I take my art very seriously."
Before he could say anything more, the door hanged above the front door clicked and Nesta's smile vanished.
"Nesta," said a male voice, one he recognised.
When the man appeared right next to them, Cassian tried not to raise his eyebrows. He knew him -- Tomas Man-something, a guy back from high school. He looked pretty much the same, though his stern expression and obviously moody demeanour said something else.
"I thought I told you to meet me back at your dorm after you finished classes," he said, then turned towards Cassian, obviously perplexed. "Cassian? What are you doing here?"
Cassian needed to only glance at Nesta's pale face and wide eyes to get the message.
She didn't want Tomas around her and was probably avoiding him by coming here.
"The better question is, what are you doing here?"
Still, his eyes focused solely on Nesta, who was rendered speechless. He didn't like that one bit.
There was no way she could run away from this. From him.
Nesta shuddered when she beheld the man who managed to turn her life into a nightmare in such a short period of time. They were a couple once -- a long time ago, when Nesta was foolish enough to think of him as a decent man.
The mask fell in the first few weeks of their relationship. The bruises she bore were proof of that.
"I told you to leave me alone," Nesta said with a steady voice, digging her nails in her palm. "I don't want to see you."
His reaction was all too familiar; the confusion, quickly followed by anger. The clenched fists and gritted teeth. Luckily, they were not alone.
"You don't--"
"She said to leave her alone," Cassian harshly interrupted. "And if I were you, I'd go while my face was still intact."
"This is the guy you choose to spend time with? You want him over me? Me?!"
Tomas began to frantically gesticulate at himself, as if he were some kind of fairytale prince that every girl dreamed about.
He wasn't. He was the villain.
Nesta bit her lip, trying hard not to tremble, not to show how much he still scared her.
"You can't ignore me forever."
"Leave," she repeated. "Go away. I want nothing to do with you."
Tomas' face was incredulous. "I'm not leaving anywhere without you. I'm tired of you pushing me around, and for what? So you can spend your time with this jackass? Come on, get up. Now."
"Fuck off," was her response.
Tomas clenched his jaw and made to grab her arm, but Cassian got ahead of him and grabbed his instead.
The look of pure fury on Cassian's face sent shivers down her spine. It was grave enough that Tomas stopped in his tracks, realising that a fight between them would likely end up with him dead. Cassian was bigger, stronger. He would squash him like the bug he was.
"Let's not make her repeat herself again, Tomas," Cassian said, then squeezed his arm until Tomas winced. "She said no. Come around her again and I'll make sure to ruin that pretty face of yours."
There was a moment of silence between the two of them -- glaring at each other with nothing but pure hatred, yet Tomas knew he had no choice but to leave. He had to tear his arm from Cassian's death grip and take a few steps back.
Then he pointed a finger at her and said, "I'll see you again, Nesta."
Those words carried a promise far more dreadful. It was obvious that Tomas wouldn't leave things like this, not when his pride had been wounded. Not when she had the courage to refuse him twice.
As soon as he was gone, the anger vanquished from Cassian's face, turning into something far more concerned. Significantly softer.
"I'm not going to pry. It's okay if you don't want to talk about it. Just tell me though -- are you alright?"
She could only manage a fast nod, keeping her eyes fixed on the window, making sure he wouldn't come back.
"Nesta," he said quietly. "You're shaking."
Perplexed by his statement, Nesta looked at her hands -- they were shaking on the table, so obvious that anyone could've seen.
Was it anger? Fear? Anticipation? Adrenaline? All of them at once?
She quickly hid her hands under the table, telling herself over and over again to calm down. It was over.
No, it's not, said a little voice inside her mind.
"Is this why you come here so often? To get away from him?"
It was hard to come up with the right words to describe her situation. Harder to sort through her thoughts in such moments. She was used to being alone after scenes like this -- no one ever assisted a scene between Tomas and her.
"Yes," she managed to say. "I broke up with him a while ago. He clearly didn't get the message."
"Did he hurt you?"
She bit her tongue to keep from laughing or crying or shouting. Hurt her how? Because there are more ways than one, and he tried them all.
Instead, she found an excuse. "I should go, it's getting late and I have to study. I have a class at 8 a.m."
She hurriedly packed all of her belonging, completely avoiding Cassian's worried eyes. She could feel it; his worry, anger. Desire to find out everything.
He wanted to help her.
"Let me walk you back to your dorm," he said, standing up. "Please. I want to make sure you get back safe."
She looked at him then; truly looked at him.
God, how he annoyed her at first. His endless curiosity, bubbly personality. Charming smile and cocky attitude. Yet Nesta found him most admirable in his quiet moments, when he was reading or doing an assignment and was completely oblivious to the world. She wanted to draw him.
It never felt like this with Tomas. Not even in the beginning.
And perhaps it was the silent plea in his request, or the fact that seemed so worried, that she accepted.
The walk back to the dorms was, at first, filled with silence.
It was late in the evening and the sun was setting, casting golden sun rays all around them. Few people were in sight, given that most were probably either studying or partying. Nesta clutched her hand around the backpack, dreading each step that brought her closer to her dorm room.
She didn't want to go there.
Tomas wouldn't just go away without retaliation.
Her heart wouldn't stop beating faster, faster, faster---
"For how long has this been going on?"
Nesta bit her lip. "More than a month."
She heard his slow exhale of air.
"Nesta, if he's hurting you or stalking you, you need to do something about it. You can't live in fear of him. Tell the police or--"
"You think I didn't consider it? I tried to get a restraining warrant a month ago, but he keeps denying everything and I have no solid proof of his stalking or threats. There are no witnesses that could testify for me. I'm stuck and there is nothing that I can do."
"There is," he said, stopping in his tracks. "I can make sure he doesn't bother you ever again. Just say the word and I'll take care of it."
"Cassian, I won't drag you into my mess. The last thing I want is for you to be charged with assault, or worse."
"But it would stop him."
"Don't worry, I don't think he'll be coming around anytime soon," she lied.
It was well after ten when Nesta realised that she forgot her textbook at the library.
Groaning, she got out of her bed and looked for a sweater. Under any circumstances, she'd leave it there and try to find it the next day, but her assignment was due tomorrow and she needed to finish it as soon as possible.
Before touching the doorknob, a thought passed through her mind, faster than lighting.
Tomas.
He could be outside her door.
He could be waiting for her.
She shouldn't go out so late.
"Enough," she chided herself. "You can't leave in fear for the rest of your life."
So she opened the door and left her room without a second thought.
The hallways were empty, void of any presence, which was a bit unusual. But then again, exams were close. People were probably studying.
Nesta hurried on the stairs, hoping the security guard from the library would let her retrieve her textbook. Perhaps she should've brought him something sweet as a bribe.
The chilly night air kissed her bare skin when she exited the building. No sight of Tomas, thank God. The library less than a five minutes walk from the dorms, but if she picked up the pace, she'd be there in two. Enough so that she could avoid any unwanted attention.
"Nesta?"
Her feet froze on their own accord.
"What a coincidence, I was just on my way to see you."
A shiver ran down her spine, cold and slimy and unwelcome, just as he was. Tomas appeared in front of her, hands stuffed in his pockets and a angry smile on his face. Her mind stopped working.
"Where are you going so late? Visiting that douchebag, Cassian?"
"Leave me alone, Tomas," she managed to get out and made to leave, but Tomas stepped in front of her. "What do you want from me?"
Tomas snorted. "Don't you know already? I want you."
Nesta gritted her teeth, either from anger or fear. Probably both.
"I don't. So kindly fuck off and let me be. I'm tired of you stalking and harassing me every fucking day. I don't want you nor will I ever wish to be associated in any way with you."
The smile turned grotesque, matching the black of his eyes. They didn't seem wholly human.
Now she felt true fear. She took a step back, realising the situation she was in.
No one around. Probably no one would hear her screams. Nothing to use against him.
And judging by his clenched jaw, Tomas was aware of that, too.
"You're going to regret that, Nesta."
The first blow sent her to the ground.