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Christmas time, it was the season of corny love songs, cuddling by the fire and binge watching those hallmark specials you’ve seen a hundred times while eating your weight in chocolate. It was decorations that took over every inch of your apartment, hot chocolate and snowball fights, long walks at night in subzero temperatures with loved ones, and mistletoe. Especially mistletoe. A chance run in with a secret crush, or a deliberate cornering of your significant other, either way, it always ended up the same. With a kiss.
But as always, especially with Nesta, there were always exceptions to the rules.
Nesta was in awe as she stepped through the doors and into the conference space of the ritzy hotel Rhysand had booked for this event. Feyre had done an amazing job, only frantically calling Nesta once to cry about how the blue curtains would clash with the decor she had picked out. Looking now, it seemed her sister's new husband had taken care of that minute detail.
Red gauzy curtains were hung from the floor to ceiling windows, accented by rows and rows of thick garland that ran across every inch of the heavily decorated space. Lights were hung and falling from the ceiling like drifts of snow from the sky, the main light fixtures were dimmed, giving the space a warm glowing feeling. Extravagant centrepieces adorned every table, the place setting were labelled and set with the most luxurious dinner wear. A DJ had situated himself at the front of the room in front of a makeshift dance floor, ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas’ was playing softly from the speakers as to not muffle any conversations. The finishing touch was the springs of holly scattered around the room.
She grabbed a drink before heading over to the group at the front of the room, she had purposefully made sure to arrive fifteen minutes late, as to not have to go through the awkward niceties as guests arrived. Contrary to popular belief, Christmas was Nesta’s favourite time of year. The cozy sweaters, the cold weather giving reason to stay indoors to read, excuses aplenty to see her friends and skip out of responsibilities to shop, all in the name of the season. She loved the aesthetic, the lights and warm fire, cozy decorations, holiday drinks, and the food, especially the food.
What Nesta hated was the social events that came with it. Make no mistake, Nesta loved a reason to dress up, to put on more makeup than usual, spend more time fixing her long thick hair into large curls, to don the beautiful red dress she knew accented her best assets. It was the large crowds, mindless forced conversation, the pressure to put on a happy face, to not let on that she was uncomfortable that haunted what excitement she held. She knew by the end of the night she would be crawling into bed, exhausted, not from the dancing, but from the energy it took to appear normal.
She finished the flute of champagne and grabbed another before running a hand over her sister's shoulder in greeting. Feyre’s eyes brightened, “You made it!”
“Of course I did, I work for your husband, I have to be here,” Nesta said, hoping it came out as jokingly as she intended. But she was never good with tone.
“Oh quiet, I got your favourite holiday treats, so hush up,” her youngest sister shot back, smirking at Nesta. She inhaled, unable to disguise the twinkle in her eye.
“Gingerbread cakes with cream cheese icing, peppermint balls, Eggnog crème brûlée?” Feyre nodded in succession as Nesta listed off her most beloved Christmas favourites.
“And…” She pushed, causing Nesta to inhale at the insinuation.
“Peppermint macarons?”
“Oh yeah,” Feyre said proudly, “Right from Madam Lesandra’s.”
Madam Lesandra’s was the best and most authentic French restaurant in Velaris. It was their mother's favourite place to take them before she died, insisting to visit every year around Christmas to indulge in the most delicious peppermint macarons that ever graced Nesta’s tastebuds. They were not only mouthwatering, but they reminded her of her mother. They had never completely seen eye to eye, her and her mother, but it was a bittersweet memory that she allowed herself to indulge in once a year. Allowing the pain to mix with the joy of a happy memory.
Nesta allowed their heads to touch, the closest thing to a hug she would give either of her sisters, “You really thought of everything.”
“She did,” Rhysand said, coming up behind his wife, wrapping her in his arms, “She did an amazing job.”
Feyre squealed as he kissed her neck and Nesta looked away, refusing to give name to the painful tightening of her heart as Feyre squealed, Rhys whispering praises into her ear. She was happy for her sister, she was, for both of them, but…
“You know, I helped too,” came the voice of the one person she wished to avoid, “I was the main coordinator of the holly garlands,” Cassian boasted.
“Which is why a lot of them are falling down,” Azriel noted, rolling his eyes as Cassian flipped him off.
“He was surprisingly enthusiastic about it,” Mor whispered warily, sipping from her now empty wine glass, “I’d be careful walking near or under them, he probably rigged them to do something that will have him hanging by his balls by the end of the night.”
“I’m sure it will add a nice accent to the decor,” Nesta bemoaned.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Cassian’s voice cut across their conversation, turning towards the bar, grabbing onto something, waving it around so fast she couldn’t quite make out what it was.
“The missing decoration,” he presented it to them like it was a first prize trophy, instead of just a simple sprig of mistletoe.
“This year, I’m going to get a kiss from every lady at the party,” he announced, wiggling the mistletoe over Feyre’s head playful, “Come on, Fey, give ol’ Cassian a kiss.”
Feyre giggle as she planted one wet kiss on Cassian’s cheek, deepening it as he picked her up, squeezing her tightly to him in his iconic bear hug.
“Wish my wife kissed me with such enthusiasm,” Rhys pouted.
“Awww, is little Rhysie jealous that his wife enjoys kissing me more than him,” Cassian teased, releasing a now squirming Feyre from his grip. He gagged as Feyre planted a sloppy, tongue heavy kiss on her husband's mouth, causing the others to make collective gagging sounds.
“Hey Mor, what do you say, take pity on your old friend?” Cassian now focusing his attention on his childhood friend.
Mor did not look as amused, but rolled her eyes, “I guess I can spare one kiss, in the spirit of the holiday.” Mor placed a gentle kiss on his right cheek, leaving a bright red stain from her lipstick against the skin there. Nesta wanted to wipe it off, annoyed when he had left it there to set.
Nesta knew what was coming next as he looked to her, she glared back, daring him.
“Nesta!” Came a shriek from behind her, two very freckled arms pulling her back into her chest before she could realize what happened.
“Careful Gwyn, don’t break her,” Emerie said as she approached, Lucien and Elain following a few feet behind them.
“It’s been a whole three weeks since I last saw any of you, don’t blame me for being excited,” she huffed, kissing her best friends cheek. Gwyn had been out of town, her musical theatre group had been on the road the past few weeks, performing all over the country, but had taken a break to enjoy Christmas with their loved ones.
“Well, since we are dolling out kisses, how about one for your favourite brother Gwyn?” Cassian suggested, wiggling the mistletoe above his head. Gwyn did not hesitate and ran to him, wrapping her arms around him, smacking him on his cheek with her lips.
“Cassian is getting more action from our girls than we are,” Azriel grumbled, “You give him a kiss before your own boyfriend, I haven’t seen you in just as long, even Nesta got one before me.”
Gwyn grinned, eyeing up her boyfriend, “Awwww, is Azzy upset he didn’t get a kiss from his girlfriend,” she said, mocking him in a high pitched baby voice as she leapt into his arms. Azriel instinctively caught her, but he didn’t miss the mischievous glint in her eye as she pressed her lips against his, making a show of forcing her tongue into his mouth. Cassian bellowed a laugh, enjoying the embarrassed look on his brother's face. Nesta gave him a sympathetic look, but it felt short as she couldn't stop the edge of her lip tilting up amusingly.
“Can’t help it if I just have a way with the ladies you don’t,” Cassian explained.
“Oh yeah, is that why you are the only one without a date?” Azriel shot back, wrapping an arm around Gwyn to make a point.
Cassian shook his head, “No one woman can contain this, right Emerie?” His question came with a dramatic wave of mistletoe over his head.
Emerie gave him an amused look, “You don’t have that kind of effect on this type of girl, big boy.”
“I’m going to get a kiss from every woman here, even get me a little something from Gladys over there,” he explained, sending a wink across the room to their seventy-year-old co-worker. Gladys waved, kissing her hand and blowing it towards him. Cassian pretended to catch it and hold it to his heart, “Besides, Mor did it.”
The shorter of the two looked to her girlfriend, eyebrow raised in question. Mor shrugged, “It’s kind of his thing this year, indulge him if you dare.”
Emerie evaluated him, not deeming Cassian a threat she walked to him, placing her lips gently against him, right before licking a long strip up his cheek. In true Cassian fashion, he let out a loud yelp of surprise as his friend retreated, “Did you lick me?”
“The closest thing you’re going to get to a tonging tonight, Cassie boy,” the group laughed, Azriel and Emerie sharing an inconspicuous high five.
“Guess I need to change that,” Cassian rebuffed, a cool smile slowly crossing his face as he looked to Nesta.
“You know, mistletoe is toxic. I’m not sure if you can become ill by proxy, but I think it must be affecting your brain function if you believe you will be getting a kiss from me,” she replied tightly, downing the remainder of her drink and setting the now empty glass onto the bar top.
“Gods Nesta, I love it when you talk dirty,” Cassian breathed. He didn’t look surprised by her reply, but he defiantly took it as a challenge, one she refused to let him win.
A mischievous smile formed on her face as an idea came to mind. She quickly dug into her purse and cheered silently as she came in contact with the one object that would aid her in getting out of this situation, “You know what, Cassian, I’ll give you a kiss.” The group went silent, varying expressions of shock married her friends and family’s faces. Only Azriel and Emerie looked suspicious at her sudden change of heart.
Cassian on the other hand, looked like Christmas had come early. “Close your eyes,” she hummed, attempting to look as innocent as possible. It only caused her friends to grow more concerned, but no one interrupted, clearly intrigued by what she was about to do.
Cassian had always shown interest in Nesta, unabashedly flirting with her whenever the change arouse. Nesta, while never deliberately pushing him away, made her annoyance known at every opportunity, which only made Cassian chase after her even more like a starved animal.
Nesta would never admit how their sparing matches sparked a feeling in her she constantly had to smother.
She knew what was coming next, but she couldn’t stop the blush that rose to her cheeks as he leaned in, almost falling over with eagerness. She let him anticipate the kiss a moment longer, taking a step closer to him, trying not to notice the smell of Cinnamon and spice that hung off of his skin. Before she could let herself be sucked in by his scent, she pulled out the object from her clutch, popping the object between his lips.
Cassian’s eyes blinked open in confusion, taking the object from his mouth while his friends let out amused chuckles as he inspected the object. “What is this?!”
“Why, Cassian, it’s exactly what you asked for, a kiss,” she smiled smugly, accepting the pat of her shoulder from Rhysand, proud enough not to flinch away from the gesture.
“Not a Hershey kiss,” he pouted. The setback didn’t seem to upset him too much, as he unwrapped the small candy and popped it into his mouth, letting the chocolate melt on his tongue, “You’re not playing fair.”
Nesta felt the corners of her mouth twitch in response to his childish tone, “Of course I am, the mistletoe rule only states you have to forfeit a kiss. It doesn't specify what kind.”
“Mark my words, Archeron,” Cassian began, using the mistletoe to point at her as he backed away, “I will get a kiss from you before the end of the night.”
Nesta finally let the smile fully take form on her face as he walked away, “Challenge accepted.”
—————
Nesta had found herself enjoying the party more than she had thought. Feyre had poured over the menu for this event for days, mulling over the long lists of dinner options from the caterer, changing the menu three times before finally deciding on the chicken with a vegan option for those who wanted it. Nesta downed every bit of it, almost tempted to lick her plate clean if she wasn’t in public. The DJ took all of their requests and she spent most of the time after dinner dancing with Gwyn and Emerie, doing everything in her power to avoid Cassian and his mistletoe. He had caught her again as she made her way to the dance floor, readily awaiting the silver wrapped treat.
“You’ll run out of those eventually,” he declared, backing away with a smile.
“Not likely.”
He did surprisingly well on his promise to get a kiss from almost every lady that night, from his spectacle with Gladys to even cornering Amren at the dessert table. The red handprint on the side of his face proof of his efforts.
He even got a smooch from Helion in HR, which he gladly accepted with fervour.
She would never admit the feeling of jealousy she sometimes felt towards him. What would it be like to move through life with such confidence, seemingly unbothered by what those around you thought?
He smiled so freely and so often she wondered if he was even capable of a frown that was not mocking. She knew of his background, his life before and after meeting his brothers, and she found it breathtaking that he could still appreciate life for what it was, and not become the bitter hell-storm she had allowed herself to become.
She made it a point to keep her distance from the man in the years she had known him, content to allow herself to wallow in whatever pity party she held for herself. Scared of what could happen if she ventured too close to the sun, afraid she would get burned, or worse. Getting sucked into his ever prominent orbit was far more fearsome than any physical damage anyone could inflict upon her.
Digging into her clutch, she counted four chocolate kisses and silently prayed it would be enough to get her through the rest of the night.
It was around nine o’clock before she needed a break, Gwyn having long ago slipped off with Azriel to god knows what after weeks apart, and Emerie looked as if she would combust if she had to spend one more dance without her girlfriend. So she let her go, making an excuse that she was too hot and made her way to the balcony at the back of the conference space.
Nesta let out a sigh as she stepped outside, the cool winter air stinging her heated skin in the best way. She hadn’t realized how much of her energy the party had taken from her until she had a moment to let herself relax. She wondered if it was still too early to duck out, go home, take a hot bath and snuggle up with a book on the couch, but she wouldn’t do that to her sister, this night meant too much to her.
She perked up when she heard footsteps behind her, “Sorry, didn’t know this hiding spot was already occupied.”
“What with the way you have been watching me all night,” she turned, facing him, “I assume you followed me,” she huffed a laugh, watching her breath curl in tendrils in front of her.
Cassian stepped forward and she shuffled through her bag, looking for the candy, “Do you want the Hershey kiss now, or are we going to go through the hold charade of you holding up the mistletoe?”
Something in his eyes told her he truly hadn’t planned to run into her out here, that he was looking to escape just as much as she was.
“Nah, the balcony is a safe zone,” he explained, coming towards the edge but not close enough to her that she would feel the need to back away, that she was crowded, “I didn’t have enough time to hide any mistletoe out here.”
Nesta didn’t watch his expression, he was just as good at hiding his true feelings as she was, but the tone in his voice gave away his distress, “Some party huh, Feyre did an amazing job.”
He was deflecting, she knew it when she saw it but didn’t call it out. “You know how much I love the social scene, but I’ll admit, I am having a good time, Feyre outdid herself this year.”
There was silence as they looked over the city, the faint thump of the music behind them. It was a silence that they both felt comfortable in, one that you would have after knowing someone for a long time, a silence you could sit in forever.
She wondered what had Cassian retreating into the quiet space. He had always seemed to thrive in this scene, soaking up every bit of attention that was offered. He was often the centre of it. She guessed that sometimes even the life of the party needed a break, a moment of reprieve from the noise. She knew all too well what keeping up a mask was like, a smile on your face, and she wondered what other misconceptions she had of him.
“It’s snowing,” Cassian’s voice broke through the silence, and tore Nesta from her thoughts.
“Oh,” she said, a single snowflake landing on her nose, melting in the warmth from her body and causing a shiver to run through her, “So, it is.”
“We should go back inside, you'll freeze,” he told her.
Nesta shook her head, “I’m not ready to go back in, but you can.”
Cassian sighed at her stubbornness, but didn’t push, “Well, if you insist, then at least take my jacket, that dress does nothing to keep you warm.”
She went to protest, but Cassian had already removed the jacket from himself, dropping it over her shoulders. She shivered again, but not from the cold, but the scent coming off the material. His scent. That warm cinnamon scent that had her gripping the jacket closer to her body.
“Um…thanks,” she said awkwardly, unsure of how to properly process the kind gesture. She decided it meant nothing, it was Cassian, he was this way with everyone, she was not special.
There was a time where she enjoyed their little tango, the spiteful flirting, the playful banter produced by the suffocating sexual tension between them. When she felt that spark of something more, something deeper developing between them, she pushed him away, forcing herself on date after date, indulging in one night stands more often than she even cared to, all in the time of wiping Cassian from her mind. It was easier said than done, especially when they worked in the same building, and her little sister being married to the man Cassian considered a brother.
All of her efforts were fruitless, and Cassian never ran, always right there, which irritated her more than ever. Why was she was so content with being miserable was beyond her, maybe it was a sick twisted way of punishing herself, the sick enjoyment of that sting of pain deep down. But it didn’t matter, she didn’t deserve someone like him anyway, and nothing would change that.
Nesta racked her brain for something to say, the lingering awkwardness that hung in the air making her skin crawl. It didn’t use to be like this.
She was grateful when Cassian broke the silence, “So, any Christmas plans, I know Feyre and Rhys are heading to warmer climates this year, and Elain and Lucien are said to be headed to the Vanserra family cabin…”
“You can just ask what sad, depressing plans the pathetically single sister has,” she said more bitterly than intended. She never felt like she needed a man, but the sting of loneliness hit her hard this time of year.
“Well, what does the oh so single and dejected Archeron sister have planned for the holidays?” He asked, smiling as Nesta let out an amused laugh.
She hesitated for a moment before answering, wondering if it was safe to divulge her plans, but if there was one person she could trust, it would be Cassian, “Church,” she blushed and prayed he thought it was just from the cold.
“Church, really?” He asked, no hint of judgement in his voice, just genuine surprise.
“Yes,” she confirmed, looking to the sky, the snow still falling on them in soft clumps, muffling the noise from inside. “I don’t have perfect attendance, but…our mother used to make us go every year. We were never religious, but there just seemed to be something about mass on Christmas that made her happy, it was the only time I’d ever see my mother smile…”
She swallowed a lump in her throat at the admission, her heart squeezing in her chest, and Nesta took in a deep breath to keep the tears from springing into her eyes. No one knew she did this, she had never disclosed this secret to her sisters, preferring to keep something for herself, a single memory just for her.
“I go to the cemetery every year, bring my mother Iris’s, play her Silent Night, it was her favourite Christmas song,” he told her. She was both grateful and irritated. Thankful that he noticed her discomfort and voiced his own uncomfortable plans, but annoyed that he was able to pick up on her unease. It was a trait she both loved and hated about him, his ability to read her so well, even when she tried her hardest to cover it up. Most people couldn’t see past her hard eyes and deadpan expression, but to him, she was an open book, her pages spread out for all to read but only he was able to decipher the language written on the pages.
She didn’t know what to say, she wasn’t like him, never knew the perfect thing to say at the right moment, all she had was silence and a pained expression of understanding. “I didn’t know your mother, but if you’re anything like her, she must have been…something,” she mentally slapped herself at her lack of better words. She wrote up contracts for a living for fuck sakes, could wield words like a weapon on a battlefield, but the moment she needed to offer a lick of comfort, she couldn’t remember the English language.
Cassian just laughed, “She was, she was the most amazing mother, the most kind hearted, beautiful human being, and I’d be lucky to be half the person she was.”
“If you are only half of what she was, she must have been a fucking saint,” she smiled and took pride in the laugh that erupted through him.
“Always so elegant,” he teased back and she shrugged, trying not to look embarrassed.
“You’re cute when you blush,” he poked, leaning against the edge where she stood, feeling the heat of his body through his jacket. She shivered in response.
“We should get you inside,” Cassian hummed, mistaking her shiver for chill. She didn’t correct him.
“Fine,” she said, throwing the article of clothing at him, unable to find any excuse to keep it hostage around her shoulders, “But only because the deserts are scheduled to come out,” she assured him, not wanting to him to think she would ever do what he told her.
“Plus, I haven’t gotten my kiss yet,” he told her, giving her that mischievous smile that had her knees shaking without her consent. It was bad enough she even found him attractive, but to give him any indication about how her lower region responded was out of the question. She refused to allow her lady parts to control her ability to think logically.
“Don’t hold your breath,” she sneered, turning before stopping dramatically, “Or actually, do.”
Cassian laughed as she retreated, that same laugh following her all the way inside and through the crowd. She hated how since the day they met, no matter how infuriating she found him, his scent, his voice, his very being followed her around like a bad smell.
There was a point, way back, when she entertained the thought of him. He seemed more than willing to romance her, and from the glowing reviews, some of the ladies around the office gave him, a very giving bed partner. But he scared her, more than she wanted to admit even to herself, so she refused to allow him too close, preferring to go on bad dates and having unsatisfying one night stands to block out the roaring thoughts of him.
She had even toyed with calling up Tomas.
She shivered with disgust, was she so desperate to be unhappy that she would even entertain the thought of calling up her slimy ex-boyfriend. Gwyn and Emerie would disapprove, they had been loud with blaming Tomas for most of her relationship issues, and it was hard for her to argue, his voice echoing in her head whenever she was close to being happy. His distasteful words and hateful voice ringing in her ear the loudest whenever she was around Cassian, telling her how she did not deserve him, how she was awful and unworthy of such unconditional love and affection. She hated how she allowed his words to affect her so much, even after the year they had been split up, he still had so much control over her. She didn’t feel like she would ever remove herself from his grasp.
‘You’ll come back, just wait and see, when you realize no one can love you like I do, that no one will put up with you like I do,’ and she hated that she believed it.
Rarely did she see Cassian the way he had been moments ago, never believing he could have a real conversation, and it was jarring to her to realize that maybe he coped in similar ways. The humour an invisible shield to his most vulnerable parts, to deflect and protect a heart that was just as hurt as hers.
She wished she did not see what hid underneath, it was easier to be hateful and rude if she didn’t see him as more than a joker.
“Hey,” came a voice from behind, Gwyn. “You okay?” She asked softly, not wanting to be overheard. Gwyn knew better than anyone how overwhelming parties can be, and they always made it a point to check in with each other, all three of them. Both her friends seemed to make it more of a point whenever she was alone, being the only singleton in their girl group.
“I’m fine, just tired,” she assured her with a smile, though she knew it was useless to lie to her friend.
“Do you want Azriel to take you home?” She offered sincerely. God, she loved her friends.
Nesta shook her head, “I promised Feyre I would help with ushering the lingering party guests who stay past their welcome, I’ll be fine.”
Gwyn observed her a moment before nodding, “Want to get some dessert, they just brought out the trays of peppermint macaroons,” and her friend wiggled in excitement in a desperate attempt to lighten her mood. It worked, and she allowed the taller of the two to drag her towards the buffet of expensive sweets.
The night was close to perfect. Not once more did her thoughts lead back to Tomas, or the moment she and Cassian shared on the balcony, or her feelings towards both of them. She forced her attention on her friends, on the music, the rhythm and beat calming her. It was Christmas Eve, and damn it all to hell that she wouldn’t enjoy herself, and the open bar.
It was 11 pm before the last of the guest trickled out, Feyre hiding behind her sister as Nesta radically pushed the drunk party-goers out the door. Feyre would never be able to dismiss her employees, always wanting to say on their good side, but Nesta did not care how rudely she asked them to get the hell out, using it as an excuse to get all her earlier frustrations out.
Though Feyre had spent a pretty penny on hiring a clean-up crew for the next day, there had been some decorations that she had brought from home that she wished to retrieve before the morning. So Nesta, as well as the other immediate friends and family, were tasked with finding and packing those items away. One of these items included the yards and yards of brightly lit garland.
Nesta had made her rounds, unhooking the lights from the greenery by hand and shoving them into the large bin she rolled around. Why she had agreed to this was beyond her, but they were almost done and she could go home and fall asleep, only to wake the next day and force herself to mass where she would sing hymns and light a candle for the mother who didn’t love her like she always wished she did.
Maybe staying late to help clean up was helpful to not just Feyre, but for her as well, as she itched to drink more of the liberally supplied alcohol. But it had already been packed away and she had a hefty supply of it at home she vowed not to touch until Christmas Day. Though she was beginning to regret buying out the wine section of the store two days ago. She hated herself when she was drunk, even more so than she usually did.
It was almost midnight before most of the group called it a night, Feyre and Rhys being told to go home so they could catch their morning flight to the Cayman Islands for a luxury vacation that would span from Christmas Day well into the new year. It was not her first Christmas alone, but the first one where she was unable to invade another couples day. Last year she had spent it with Gwyn and her grandmother, along with Azriel of course. It was the looming knowledge that she would have nothing but the overabundance of alcohol in her home to keep her company this year.
She wondered if Cassian felt the same, both of his brothers otherwise occupied with their growing families. This year, Azriel and Gwyn were hoping to spend the one day they had alone together before Gwyn took off on the road again the day after Boxing Day.
She had tried to squirm her way into staying with Elain, but Nesta preferred to stay well away from the Vanserra’s. Especially because of her awkward fling with their eldest son after her breakup with Tomas when she was out looking for a rebound.
Nesta sighed in relief when she placed the last of the lights into the bin. She was done for the night, and Cassian was in charge of taking down the garlands she had detached the lights from. Leaning against the wall in the far corner of the room, Nesta looked out at the city below from the large window. Quiet had befallen the city, most lights having been dulled by the late hour, children in bed and awaiting Santa’s arrival in the night. She watched as a few people who still littered the streets stumbled their way through the newly fallen snow, and she wondered if they were alone too.
A noise from behind her caught her attention, it was Cassian, struggling to unhook a bit of garland from the hook it was attached to, but his large fingers were far too big to grip onto it. She chuckled softly to herself and walked over to him, standing on her tiptoes and using her nimble fingers to unclamp the bit of decor from the wall.
“Thanks,” he said, packing it into the bin beside him, “Next year, I hope Feyre just rents this shit from the hotel and not bring it from home,” he grumbled, looking to his hands that had a few nicks from the wires that held up the decor.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if she were pregnant by the end of this vacation,” she told him, “We may not have to worry about playing cleanup crew next year.”
Cassian agreed, an awkward silence replacing any form of conversation as Nesta folded the last of greenery gently into the bin. They stood there for a moment, words left unsaid hanging in the air, and before Cassian could say something stupid, Nesta spoke, “So, how did your quest go?”
Cassian perked up at the break in silence, “Not bad, caught Glady’s twice,” he laughed, fiddling with the decorations piled in the bin beside him that she had just folded, bridled with nervous energy, “Well, I think she actually caught me the second time, that women is insatiable.”
Nesta found herself outwardly laughing at the comment, Cassian’s expression that of shock at the sound before his face softened, “Oh yeah?” She taunted, she couldn’t help but find the vision of Cassian being cornered by an elderly woman in her seventies that barely reached his kneecaps.
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Cassian said, enjoying her amusement, “At least the other ladies understand the rules of the mistletoe, you don’t just chuck a candy in my face and call me a brute.”
Nesta gave him a mock pout, “Aww, poor Cassian.”
“There’s always next year,” he shrugged before an eerily sly smile spread across his features, “Or maybe not,” he said, pointing above them.
Nesta sucked in a breath as she looked upwards, where a single sprig of mistletoe was hung. It had been cleverly hidden behind the greenery of the garland, almost like it was strategically placed there as a trap, now fully exposed and awaiting the completion tradition.
Nesta tried to cover her shock, along with the slight, and very unexpected fluttering in her stomach as she realized she had been caught. With no way out. She didn’t need to reach into her clutch to know she had run out of chocolate kisses long ago. Cassian had cornered her more than once, but she had given her last one away to an intern that had approached her and would not take no for an answer.
She froze, digging into her bag again but knowing she would still find it empty of the candy she had used as a defence. She was completely and utterly fucked.
“What?” Cassian asked, a look of concern replacing one of mischief at her expression.
“I,” she began, looking up to the offending plant before looking back at the man in front of her, “I don’t have any candy left…” she admitted.
Cassian’s face fell and so did her stomach. Was he so disgusted by her that he couldn’t keep the charade of wanting to kiss her up when it was offered to him?
“Oh…” he nodded, pursing his lips in thought, “Well, it just says a kiss, my cheek is free real estate,” he offered. No disgust, just the fear of making her uncomfortable his only reason for the hesitant reply. Cassian was all jokes and light laughter, he was pure and sweet and everything she wasn’t, and no matter of joking would have him sincerely pressuring any women to kiss him if they denied him.
She knew she could walk away and he would let her. But she found she did not wish to.
“It’s okay, rules are rules,” she tried to say as nonchalantly as possible, attempting to push down the blush threatening to make itself known on her face.
Cassian nodded in reply, not wanting to make it more awkward by outwardly denying her. If she dared admit it, he looked slightly….thrilled at the acceptance.
They both stared at each other a moment before leaning in at the same time, both going in the completely wrong direction and almost bumping faces. They chuckled stiffly, leaning in once more, Cassian not leaning down far enough this time which had Nesta colliding with his jawline.
Having enough, Nesta reached up, grabbing his face in her hands, but instead of planting a quick kiss on his awaiting cheek, she allowed her lips to softly grace his own.
She could feel his body tighten in surprise at the change in direction, and she almost pulled away, heartstoppingly abashed, before he pushed back into the kiss, fitting their lips together in a firm lock.
The kiss was more tender than anything she had expected from Cassian, she had felt nervous, panicked, sick to her stomach as she made the split second decision to kiss him on those inviting lips rather than his awaiting cheek. And as he kissed her back with such emotion, every turbulent insecurity within her was put to rest.
It seemed as if there was nothing left in the world besides them, besides this moment as they kissed in the dim glow of the Christmas tree while snow gently fell outside the window. It was so perfect that Nesta did not think it could be better if she had scripted it.
It was a moment she ever expected, never even entertained the thought of because it seemed like a fantasy, but as she looked up into his hazel eyes, she realized it was an opportunity she did not wish to pass up. She was tired of questioning herself, wondering if she was worthy of the attention he gave her, wondering if she would dim the light that shone all around him, would taint the pure and beautiful soul that lied beneath that hundred-watt smile. He scared her to death, but she found herself feeling brave in that moment, wanting even.
She breathed in sharply as he snaked his arms around her, pulling her closer to him, and she lost herself lost in the feeling of his arms around her.
The kiss ended all too soon, and she resisted pulling his face back down for more. His hold slackened, giving her room to back out if she wished, but he did not pull away entirely. So they stood there, without breaking eye contact, arms wrapped around each other, trying to catch their breaths.
Cassian opened his mouth to speak, and Nesta steeled herself, the fear of rejection still there. But before he could put a voice to those thoughts, the sound of approaching footstep had them tearing apart from each other.
“Hey, just came to check in on you two, haven’t seen you both in a while,” Azriel said as he stopped in front of them. Nesta couldn’t conceal the blush this time. Azriel was often quiet, and did not make his presence known unless he wished to. How much had he seen?
“We’re good,” Nesta said, trying to look as composed as possible, even with a beet red face. Thankfully, unlike his brother, Azriel knew discretion.
“Just finishing up removing the rest of the green prickly shit,” Cassian gestured to the bin of garland, elegant as usual, but acting much more unbothered than her. Was he not as affected by the kiss as she was, or was he just a better actor?
“Well hurry up, we are all waiting to leave and I have the key to lock up,” he told them, “Nesta, need a ride home?” He asked, knowing she did not have a car at the moment.
“No, got an Uber coming,” she explained, waving her phone for emphasis.
“Okay, get the rest down so we can leave,” was all he said before walking away, giving Nesta a wink before heading back over to Gwyn across the room.
Oh, he knew.
—————
Nesta shivered at the cool wind that greeted her as she stepped outside the hotel, thankful she had her coat this time to protect her from the chill. They had waved goodbye to Azriel and Gywn, Nesta promising to call and maybe flying down to see her during the new year.
It didn’t feel as agonizing as she had expected, to be standing at the road's edge with Cassian, who had offered to wait with her for her Uber. He had refused to allow her to stand alone, and ignored her protests to leave, even demanding to see the licence plate number and car make in order to make sure she didn’t get into some random car.
She didn’t have it in her to be insulted by the statement, she was old enough to take care of herself, more than capable to go down her checklist before she got into the car with a stranger. The thought behind it though made her body hot and though she had friends and family who would extend such kindness to her, there was something different about that person being Cassian.
She didn’t know what was between them, before and after that kiss, or why she had felt so brave to forgo his offer of walking away and forgetting the situation. She just knew that she did not wish to be alone any longer, to wallow in her self-pity and drown herself in alcohol. It was a terrifying thing, to start over, to let someone in, but Cassian wasn’t just anyone.
She had known him longer than any of her boyfriends, their comradery lasting longer than any relationship she ever had. She had avoided him for years out of fear, but she was beginning to think she may be able to be brave again.
“So…” she began, her voice breaking the quiet between them. She cursed herself, unsure of what she was even going to say.
“So…” he echoed after she did not continue, urging her to talk.
“I was just going to say I hope you have a good Christmas,” she said tightly, curing herself. Yes, tell him you hope he has a good Christmas, after he confided in your that he visits his dead mother's grave, she scolded herself.
Cassian smiled, “I’ll try….”
“Maybe I’ll see you at mass?” Cassian looked to her, understanding lighting up his face at what she was offering. Companionship.
“The church on Oak street has a beautiful display on Christmas,” she told him, “If that’s something that you're interested in I mean.” She examines her phone, trying to look as nonchalant at the extension of the invitation as she could. Her body burned, could someone die of heatstroke in winter?
“Thanks for the heads up, I’ll have to check it out.”
Cassian saw her babbling for what it was, an invitation, one he hadn’t expected. She was trying, and it meant the world to him that she was.
Silence settled in around them, more comfortable than before, but Nesta considered it a Christmas miracle as the white sedan came to a full stop in front of her, “This is me.”
Cassian nodded, “Merry Christmas, Nesta,” he said, leaning in to place a gentle kiss on her cheek, but was met with the soft plush feel of her lips on his for the second time that night.
It was a quick, almost shy peck to his lips, but the shock of it still coursed through him, “Rules are rules,” she told him before slipping into the car, “Merry Christmas, Cassian.”
Cassian felt the cold rush of the wind on his face as he watched the car drive off. Something from behind fluttered against his ear, causing him to jerk to the right in search of the offending object.
It wasn’t until he turned around did something fall from his hair to land on the snow covered sidewalk before him. Slowly, he reached down, plucking the object from the ground and smiled.
He wasn’t sure when she had looped it through his bun, or how she had done it without his knowledge, but Cassian felt his heart constrict tightly in his chest as he held the single sprig of mistletoe delicately in his hand, almost as if he was holding her instead.
And for the first time in a long while, Cassian was looking forward to Christmas.