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Cassian spent the day before his thirtieth birthday sweaty and exhausted, and not even in the good way.
“Please tell me that’s the last box,” Nesta groaned as she set a medium-sized box down in the center of their new living room. They’d finally made the decision to move in together, and had picked up the keys to their new three-bedroom this morning.
Cassian briefly ran outside to double check, closing their small moving van and locking their cars with relish before returning inside. “Looks like it, sweetheart.”
“Oh, thank God,” she replied, still panting somewhat from all the boxes they’d brung in. “Hell of a way to ring in your birthday, huh?”
Of course both of their leases had managed to be up right around Cassian’s birthday. He had moved enough times to know that he’d be too exhausted to do something on his actual birthday, so his big plans to celebrate turning thirty were on hold until the weekend.
“No one I’d rather ring it in like this with,” he responded honestly. She rolled her eyes at the open affection, but that didn’t stop him from stealing a brief kiss. “Okay. Let’s get to work.”
They spent the next few hours cleaning their new place and unpacking as many boxes as they could. The movers weren’t bringing the big furniture until tomorrow, so today was about getting as many boxes done as possible. They took a brief break to order pizza and relax on the floor of their living room, but they worked late into the night to get as much done as possible — namely, their kitchen supplies and all the essential bathroom items.
“Cassian,” Nesta said after hours had gone by. They were standing side by side in the master bathroom, and when he looked ovef at her, she held up her phone to display the time was now 12:01. “Happy birthday, my love.”
“Thank you,” he said back, smiling. He pulled her into a kiss that quickly turned heated, as they usually did, one of his hands digging into her hair while the other snaked around her waist to pull her as close to him as possible.
“Wait, wait, I got you something,” Nesta told him, pulling away from him. She poked him in his chest as her expression turned firm. “Don’t go anywhere.”
“There’s nowhere to go!” Cassian called out to her retreating back. He couldn’t help but smile as he waited for her to return, wondering what she’d managed to put together even though they were both sweaty and exhausted.
“Happy birthday to you…” Nesta sang quietly as she returned, her voice completely off-key but no less endearing. In her hands was a tiny vanilla cake that had a single, blue candle burning in the center of it. “Happy birthday dear Cassian…”
“Sweetheart,” Cassian said, swiftly reminded of the strength of his feelings for her. He really was the luckiest bastard in the world. “You shouldn’t have.”
“I shouldn’t have celebrated your birthday?” she asked, raising one of her brows. She beckoned him out of the bathroom and managed to sit on the floor of their bedroom without jostling the cake. “Come on, make your wish.”
He gladly sat next to her and took the cake to make his wish, blowing out his candle with relish. Maybe it was corny for him to wish that she’d say yes when he asked her to marry him, but he didn’t care. That would stay between him and the birthday gods.
“Do we even have plates?” Cassian asked, setting the cake down on the floor between them. Today was such a blur that he couldn’t remember if they’d done all of the plates and forks yet, and he was in no shape to dig through their many, many moving boxes to find out.
“I’m not an amateur,” Nesta scoffed as she rolled her eyes. She stood up and briefly disappeared into the kitchen before returning with a set of plastic utensils and some paper plates. “Do we even have plates, he says.”
“I should know better than to doubt you,” he replied, leaning in for a quick kiss. “Sorry, Nes.”
“Just shut up and eat your cake,” she answered. Still, she kissed him back and let him cut his slice first, so she couldn’t have been too mad.
Cassian was halfway done with his slice of cake when the thought hit him. “Fuck.”
“What?” Nesta asked, looking up from her own slice.
“I’m older than my mom was when she died,” he told her honestly.
“Fuck,” she repeated.
“It’s not like I didn’t know it was coming,” he continued quietly, “but… yeah. Fuck. I miss her.”
Cassian had only been ten years old when his mother’s life had been tragically cut short. She’d been just shy of her thirtieth birthday when she’d gotten into the car with his father and hadn’t gotten back out, the only one not to walk away from a car accident so bad there had been hardly anything left to bury. He missed her so fiercely it hurt, and he certainly hadn’t realized how it would feel to outlive her before it had become reality.
“I know,” Nesta told him softly. She put down her plate and reached out to grip his hands in hers. “It sucks, and it’s not fair.”
“It’s not,” he echoed quietly. He put down his cake and raked his hands through his hair, wishing that his mom was here to do it instead. “I wonder what she’d think about all this. If she’d be proud of me.”
“I think she would be,” she answered just as softly. After a few moments she added, “I didn’t get the chance to meet her, but I’m lucky enough to know you. You’re the best person I know, Cassian. Anyone would be lucky to have you as their son.”
“You think?”
“I know, Cassian. How could she raise such a good guy and not be proud of that?”
At Cassian’s silence, Nesta stood and reached out her hand. “Come on. Let’s shower and go to bed.”
He took her hand without hesitation, letting her lead him back to the bathroom and fiddle with the shower settings until the water was warm and inviting. It felt good to stand under the spray and wash the day’s grime off, and even better when she held him and didn’t push for him to say anything before he was ready.
“Better?” Nesta asked once they’d moisturized, put on pajamas, and laid down on their air mattress.
“Better,” Cassian answered quietly. They were laying facing one another and he reached out to cup her face, gently rubbing his thumb against her cheek. “Love you.”
“Love you too,” she told him, leaning into his touch with a happy little sigh. “Happy birthday.”