Chapter 1: I Thought We'd Be Different
Chapter Text
Jude Duarte is an utter fool. Here she stands, heart torn in two, just as the flowers she'd had prepared especially for today crunch underneath her steel-toed boots. Everything is a blistering pain inside of her, every pang of cold dashing through the thin material of her jacket and making her shiver.
It is all she can do to remove the memory of Nicasia, embalmed in Cardan’s arms, looking as perfect as she always did. Red, rosy lips, bitten from kisses and luscious, glowing with the gleam of saliva. But Cardan. How grand, how perfect he looked under the ceiling fan that spread a linen glow upon their entwined bodies, his black hair gleaming a mahogany brown and his eyes, black under hooded eyelids. The utter desire on his face, the shock when he saw stupid little Jude standing in the doorway, made to be the fool time and time again.
Cold, burning tears rush down her cheeks against her wishes. With every one that scars the tender curve of her cheekbone, it whispers, Fool.
Why had she even thought to woo Cardan? Cardan didn't need wooing, or even to be seen by her unworthy eyes. He didn't want her. It was as simple as that. But something inside of her wailed with agony at the thought– It just couldn't be. Cardan, beautiful Cardan, wasn't in love with Jude. That should've been obvious from day one; the cold gleam of his eyes as they appraised her hair and her body, the malicious grin that distorted his face and made him look even more menacing, the way his kisses caressed her neck and trailed downwards..
What had those kisses meant? Were they given to her unkissed, untouched skin out of pity? All along, she'd thought Cardan above feeling pity for another. The agreement was that they would hook up as friends with benefits, something that they could both agree to since they were okay with each other.
But Jude had fallen in love. She'd fallen in love, just as she had with Locke. Locke, who took her heart and stomped it beneath his feet when he took Taryn’s hand in his and said, with confidence, “I do.”
Madoc, who was in bars for the murder of her parents but had loved her once; had kissed her cheeks when they were red from sickness, had put a placating back of a hand to her forehead to check for her temperature, had loved her. He'd brought her soup, and warm, tender hugs that brought a newfound appreciation for her new father. The man who gave her and Taryn the biggest bedroom as there were two of them, but then moved Jude into a separate one, as he recognized that she was a girl who needed space from others. He'd seen her and understood.
Cardan was the only other person who'd gotten close enough to figuring her out, and if she'd just let time track its course, maybe they could've been something more. But no. Stupid Jude, who showed her cards too early and lost the game; who watched with the grim knowledge that it was her fault Cardan would never touch her again, that she would never feel his heartbeat pounding away beneath her fingertips.
Raven hair and black eyes, pale skin, all dissolving before her. She sunk to her knees, the cold bite of winter clawing at the blue of her jeans and staining them navy, her tears falling to make small, wet circles of snow appear. Nothing could bring him back.
She was alone again.
And the recurring question is Why? Why had she thought this was the best way to go about things-- Buying him his favorite flowers, wearing the clothing he liked most on her, going to his door to confess her love.
Jude never confessed her love for anybody before. Maybe that is why she so grandly messed up. Even with Locke, she could never summon the courage to say, “I love you. I miss you. I need you.”
With Cardan, however, those words came to her like a breath of fresh air, lifting her chest with newfound hope every time those last two phrases escaped. But never, not until today, had she planned to say that first phrase.
“Jude?” The voice is soft behind her, and she turns with a startle. She's been caught, she's vulnerable, where's her knife, damn it–
Liliver. A broken sob reaches her throat at the sight of her friend, eyes so concerned for her wellbeing that Jude feels like a monster. How dare she evoke worry in her friends? How dare she assume she is anything but a burden, her fate always leading to this same path?
“I'm sorry,” she croaks, unsure why she's even saying it. Maybe it's what she would've said to Cardan. Cardan. Would she ever talk to him again?
“Oh, sweetheart,” Liliver murmurs, taking off her white, furry coat and wrapping it around Jude’s shaking shoulders. The warmth floods through her, and she lets out a quivering sigh of relief, her nerves jittery from crying and her head pounding uncomfortably. “Why don't we get you home?”
“Okay.” She says nothing more, simply standing up at Liliver’s insistence and following the smaller woman’s light tracks in the snow, walking blindly as her vision blurs in and out of focus. Her body feels disconnected from her, so far away that when her nails dig into her palms, all she feels is a distant sting that doesn't jolt her from her dissociation.
“Lili?” She asks, vision going blurry long enough that she can't see in front of herself anymore. Then, a hazy figure comes in front of her. It's Lili, she assumes, since Cardan isn't that short. Stop thinking about him. Please.
“Are you cold?” Her voice is so fond yet so full of sadness that Jude wants to dig her own grave for making the lithe woman worry about her. Why is it that everywhere she goes, misery follows her? When had she become such a bad omen?
Jude shakes her head, even though her teeth are chattering and her fingers are startlingly cold against her bare skin when she places her hands around her waist, underneath the long sleeve shirt she's wearing. Liliver lets out a small huff at her stubborn dismissal of being cold before taking her hand more forcefully and pulling her along, “Will you tell me what happened?”
Even now, Liliver offers her a choice. Speak, or don't. Jude hates that she is even offered a choice. She doesn't deserve the right to speak, the right to exist, for that matter. All she does when she speaks is make her own life more miserable, more of a burden to all around her. Her confession to Cardan would've been cursed from the beginning, doomed to stab her in the back if Jude had come to his place some day after the confession and found him entangled with Nicasia.
Suddenly, burning rage tears at the linings of her stomach; roars in her chest. She wants to scream, wants to jump up and down and ask the world why she is so corrupted. Why it is so cruel to her, why it hates her so dearly. If you hate me so much, then maybe I should make it easier for you and do what destiny has set in stone for me all along.
Death. Jude had entertained the thought once when she was younger, a mere teenager who'd experienced the throes of bullying under Cardan’s spite. She'd imagined launching herself off the roof, being rid of herself. Maybe, if she'd done that, she wouldn't be feeling this anguish.
Don't be more of a fool than you are. Death is final. If you did it then, you wouldn't have ever felt Cardan’s hands on you. Never felt a kiss from his lips.
Is that a blessing or a curse; is it better to have died and never known the taste of him, or to die now knowing he was a luxury you'll never taste again? Both thoughts are unbearable.
“--de? Jude? Hey, look at me. Breathe in for four, then exhale for six. C'mon, hun, you can do it.”
Encouragement. What for?
Then Jude falls back into her body. She feels her heart slamming against her ribcage and her lungs fighting for air, her eyes burning and her throat closed up. Liliver is a doctor. Jude should listen to her, just as she never listened to her logical self when it told her: Don't fall for him.
Fool.
Fool.
Fool.
“Jude. Please. I'm here, I'm right here. In for four, out for six. There we go..” her voice fades, joining the incessant ringing in Jude’s ears as her lungs open, expanding with air that strangles her more than soothes her, before collapsing in on themselves and exhaling.
“Lili?” Her voice is brittle. She hates it. Hates how cold and tired and achy she is.
“Yes, Jude?”
“Why does everyone hate me?” Tears are spilling down her cheeks again. When had she become so weak, so susceptible to emotion?
Cardan. He did this. Blame him.
Though her vision is blurring at the edges, nothing erases the sharpness in Liliver’s eyes, the anger in her tone when she says, “Who made you think that?”
You didn't answer my question. You asked a different one. That means you hate me.
Cardan does too. Cardan hates me. You hate me. I hate me. I hate me. I hate me.
Hate.
Hate.
Hate.
Jude doesn't reply, not for many tense moments of silence. Understanding dawns in Liliver's eyes only then, and a twitch in her jaw makes Jude think she's resisting punching her for saying that about herself.
Jude's brain turns off. She doesn't want to be alive anymore, doesn't want to think. She is gone again, blind as she follows a person who hates her into her home, who gives her a warm blanket to wrap around her shoulders and hot cocoa to warm her fingers on.
She is settled down into a settee, and a new figure approaches, the scar on his face unmistakable against the harsh yellow lighting of he and Liliver’s home. Van. Van, who'd given her advice when she'd admitted what her relationship with Cardan was, how he'd warned her to not get in too deep.
She'd failed. Again. Again. Again.
“Jude,” he whispers, looking horrified at how banged up she must look, all teary eyed and weary. She should feel self conscious, but being with Cardan.. it made her forget about the flaws in her body, the blemishes and stretch marks running along her thighs, the weight of her breasts and the unlikable down-sloping smile she had.
He made her think she was pretty. Betrayal.
Liliver settles down beside her, curling into her but holding her tight against her chest. Who is holding who? Usually, Jude’s the big spoon. Cardan likes to be held, and that's not something she minds, especially when he takes care of her so sweetly. But sometimes, on rare nights, he'd hold her to his chest and she'd burrow her face into the hollow of his neck, smelling lavender and vanilla on his skin.
She does that now, but Liliver smells like the aftermath of fireworks with a twinge of rosemary instead. It is a scent that lulls her into a sense of calm her brain fights against, but ultimately fails when her eyes begin to droop and she falls into a merciless sleep.
—
Van has never seen Jude like this– Dark circles under her eyes, grimace permanently plastered on her face, pale skin glowing ivory under a lamp. She looks as if there is no blood left in her body, like a vampire. It is terrifying to see Jude so out of herself, as she's the one in the friend group who is the most collected in the direst of situations.
She is unraveling and Van can't help but wonder if there is more he could've done to save her from this fate. But how could he have known? He'd been lucky with Liliver– From childhood friends to friends with benefits, and then to lovers. He was lucky he even had a chance with a girl like her.
He frowned, looking down into his coffee cup. Cardan had told him once, when he, Cardan, Liliver, Jude, and Garrett had all gone camping and a fire was lit, that he was in love with Jude. At the time, Van wasn't surprised. He saw the tender, googly eyes they made at each other when they thought that nobody was looking; the way their pinkies would brush and they'd immediately get red cheeks, how they'd avoid eye contact for the rest of the day after an incident like that.
After that confession, one Jude never overheard, the friends with benefits situation happened between the two. This was months ago now, and feelings can change. Perhaps Cardan simply didn't love her anymore. But Cardan.. he'd seemed so genuine. His confession seemed heartfelt, raw and vulnerable for a man impenetrable as he.
He should've warned Jude more thoroughly. Should've told her– What? What would he have told her? “Hey, your friend and ex-bully Cardan loves you.” Jude would've beaten his ass for it!
A gentle hand on his shoulder snaps him out of it, and he looks up to find Liliver, frowning softly down at him, her smaller fingers pulling his fingers off the cup of coffee he's clenched his hand around, one by one. His heart melts in his chest, and he loosens his grip on the cup enough that she is able to slide it out and place it on the table. She settles beside him, her head landing on his shoulder without fail.
She'd told him, once, that she liked putting her head on people’s shoulders because it meant you could feel their pulse all throughout your body. It was a reassurance to her that that person was alive and well. With a job as a medical professional, deaths were a sad consequence to an otherwise nurturing job. She'd seen many deaths, and it all amplified her desire to be close to the people she loved.
“You okay, baby?” He asked softly, his hand coming up to rub her back, making her hum with contentment and bury her face into his shoulder, nuzzling the soft material of his green sweater. He could barely feel it, but she nodded, peeking up at him.
“I'm okay. Worried.”
About Jude was the unsaid part of her sentence. After all, Jude was in the next room, knocked out cold. It was all they could do to vanquish her trembling, whether from the winter air or her sadness, Van couldn't be sure. The entire house’s blankets had been placed on her body once she'd fallen asleep, if only to lull her body into believing she was safe.
And she was, here in their house. Van vowed that.
“Me t–” Knockk. Knockk. Knockk.
Long, slightly drawn out knocks echo off the wooden door, and Liliver and he share a confused glance. Only one person knocks like that out of the friend group. But he wouldn't..
Nevermind. Van stands up, but Liliver’s hand on his wrist stays him, forcing his feet to still. “Don't go.”
“Why? He’ll freeze out there.”
Liliver’s glare is colder than any freeze beyond the door, “Let him. He hurt Jude. I may like Cardan, but I do not want him in her presence. She’s already vulnerable.”
He sighs, knowing she is right, as always. “You're right. Why don't we hear what he has to say outside, then?”
Liliver huffs. “Fine. If he says anything out of line..” Her sentence trails off, but the message is there. Fuck around and find out.
Chapter 2: And So We Were
Summary:
Jude is heartbroken, but maybe, Cardan can salvage what's left of it and make it whole using his own.
They are in love, but they just need to communicate first.
Notes:
warnings: mentions of panic attack (not described)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The wind is chilling against his cheeks, forcing Cardan to hike the collar of his leather jacket up higher, as if to be a windbreaker against the dastardly bite it brings. But it doesn't work for long, since the collar flaps, forcing cold air down the gaps.
He shivers, warming his hands by rubbing them together fervently. He hopes Liliver and Van will let him in. He's so cold. Cold like before the time Jude was there to warm up his bed, to be a source of heat beside his body.
Jude.
The door opens, bringing in a waft of heat that soothes the ache in Cardan’s cheeks, nose, and ears from how the cold nips at it. He hungers for more of the warmth, wants to chase it like it's the only light he can see in the darkness. He can smell a fireplace burning inside, can imagine hot cocoa warming him up with Jude curled into him, their.. Oh, Cardan.
“What do you want?” Liliver barks.
Stark and to the point. Liliver is a kind woman until you cross someone she cares dearly about. Yes, she likes Cardan, but she obviously likes Jude more, seeing as she's glaring at him with barely restrained anger, the only restraint on her urge to jump him provided by Van's hand on her shoulder, rooting her to the ground.
It's a good sign that her boots haven't lifted off of the ground yet. He'll take what he can get.
He ignores her question, which is probably a dumb thing to do, but he has more pressing matters at the moment. “Where is Jude? Vivi told me she didn't come home last night. I need to know that she's okay.”
“That's it? That's why you've come? To know if she's okay? Cardan, you've got to be kidding me.” Liliver's voice is full of a disbelief he doesn't understand. Shouldn't she be happy he even cares? You've always cared for Jude, liar.
Even Van doesn't look impressed, one brown eyebrow raised, “She's fine, if you call having a panic attack and hyperventilating the definition of fine.”
What?
“What do you mean having a panic att–”
The door opens again. Jude stands there, clad in checkered pajamas and three blankets around her shoulders. Her eyes widen at the sight of Cardan, and he feels the sudden urge to grab her and pull her in, to tell her how goddamn sorry he is and how much he needs her cinnamon scent to continue spicing up his life.
“Ugh, sap,” she'd joke, never admitting she enjoyed it.
He hates how well he knows her.
“Van, Lili.. what..” Her next words are unintelligible, eyes squeezing open and shut as she breathes raggedly in and out of her mouth. “Why is.. is h.. he here?” She sounds like she wants nothing more than to kill him.
Rightfully, he supposes.
“Don't look so disappointed to see me,” he teases lightly, but his ribbing falls flat at the despair in her eyes. Guilt pools in his chest, and he reaches a hand out, as if to caress the flesh of her cheek or her hair, maybe comb through a few strands..
His hand is slapped away, Jude’s hand hovering over his; the culprit. He should be annoyed, but he isn't. He's so happy to feel her touch again, even if it burns, sending sparks up his spine. She's so beautiful under this lighting, though her eyes are darkened and she has a bedhead. He loves Jude in all her lesser stages, always has; namely when she'd shriveled up after Madoc’s confession of murder to the court, or when Locke left her for her twin sister.
“Jude,” he starts, but falters. She seems so displeased, so irritated with him that it's beginning to terrify him. She has to hear what he has to say. She just has to.
He needs to make this right, knowing he'll argue if he has to to get to her and have her listen. But to his shock and utter relief, she waves Van and Liliver away, murmuring, “It's okay.”
“Jude, are you–”
“Yes, Van. Thank you.”
Van frowns, but looks at Liliver who looks right back at him with disappointment at being denied the opportunity of punching Cardan. She mouths something to Jude, before walking away into the house, Van following in tow. Just as he leaves, he leans in and whispers to Cardan, “I will gut you if you hurt her again.”
Damn. He's royally screwed up, hasn't he? Liliver is a nice lady, timid but brash when she really wants to be. Perhaps Van likes her for that reason.
“What is it, Cardan? I don't have all day for this.” Impatience lines Jude's words, making them harsh and so unlike the person he'd gotten to discover over the past few months that it horrifies him to think she hates him. She can't. There's no way that she..
Well, he'd hate a person too if they did what he did to her.
“I'm sorry.” He hadn't meant to start with that, and that certainly wasn't how he'd rehearsed his speech in the mirror. But he can't stop now, not with her wounded expression centered on him. “I didn't mean to get involved with Nicasia. I promise you that. When we made our agreement, we both decided to not have other partners, whether coincidence or not, I'm still not sure.
“But what I know is this: The reason I got involved with Nicasia is because..”
Say it.
“I..”
Say it!
“I lo..”
Jude’s eyes are widening, her breath hitching.
“I loathe you.”
Her expression crumples like a tin can in front of him, and he feels his heart screaming at him to take it back.
And yet he presses on, “I loathe how you make my heart beat faster. I loathe how you make me feel special, make me feel unique, like I am someone to admire. All my life, I have been made a spectacle, whether by friends or family. I am always seen as cruel, as unfeeling. But with you.. you make me feel something. And I know the name of that feeling. It is love.
“But I didn't want to admit I loved you. Didn't want to admit that I wanted nothing more than to truly make love to you, to make you mine by putting a ring on your finger. I didn't want to admit that I.. that soon enough, I wouldn't be able to tear myself away from you. I hoped, if I closed my eyes, that I could picture Nicasia as you. It was foolish. Nobody else could ever hold a candle to you.”
At that moment, Cardan glances up from the days-old snow to find Jude has a hand over her mouth and she is crying. He hates when she cries, and hates even more when she silences herself.
“Jude? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you more. I'm so sorry. Please don't cry.” Worry tears at him, ripping his heart open at the sight of Jude, a woman who was his rock when times were the toughest, breaking apart before him. He wants to take the shattered pieces and fit them back together, wants to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless, as if to chase away her sadness.
She leans in first, kissing him with the power of an army charging into war. It is his heart that stands in the middle of this imaginary battlefield, bare in empty plains. Her arrow is the one to pierce it, but he doesn't mind the intrusion, not this time. Her love, though sharp, is tinged at the edges with warmth and a tender love that she has never shown others out of fear of being taken advantage of.
Or, he thinks, because she believes she is a burden. She believes she isn't worthy of the heart he gives her willingly.
“Sweet girl,” he aches to whisper in her ear. “The poison and the antidote. My girl. I have loved you and always will be loving you.”
But he doesn't say that out of fear this is all some elaborate ruse, instead falling into the embrace of her arms around his neck and the press of her lips against him. She tastes like home, like bonfires and coffee doused with milk and sugar (even though she insists that black coffee is much better), warm as he wraps his arms around her waist.
“Jude, sweet Jude,” he murmurs against the curves of her lips, pressing his own against hers and feeling her melt. “Cardan,” she whimpers, leaning in for kiss after kiss, hunger etched in the lines of her face, tongue searching the gap of his mouth with a quest for freedom.
The cold is nothing to him anymore, so forgettable when Jude Duarte is kissing him and making him dizzy and lightheaded with joy. Brown hair, a contrast to white snow, her skin comforting against his as their bodies press together, making them groan into each other's mouths.
“I meant to surprise you that day,” she whispers suddenly, then looks taken aback. Had she meant to say that aloud? No matter, he thinks, because she looks delightful when she's taken by surprise. She peeks up at his eyes, as if willing the image of him to never fade.
Cardan feels miserable, knowing he hurt Jude, who has already been through more than enough in her life. She doesn't need another thing to be upset about, and he promised he'd help her take back her control on life.
Now he's compromised her too.
“I wanted.. I bought you flowers. Your favorites. And I.. I came to your door to confess my love. I didn't know how to confess love to a person, so I watched cheesy romance movies and searched it up on WikiHow. It didn't help much, so I did what Lili told me instead. I followed her advice to a T, afraid that if I didn't, I'd lose you forever.”
His heart is crumbling, “And last night, you thought you did anyway.”
She nods mutely, pointedly turning her gaze away from his. A low growl in his chest and an insistent hand on her chin jerks her head back towards his, where she sighs and looks him straight in the eyes. Their gazes smolder in the chilling air, making the air between them heady and utterly intoxicating.
Who is Cardan to deny the carnal urge to kiss her when she looks so delectable? He presses her up against the door, kissing her until she's pliant beneath him before pulling away, delighting in the soft whine she lets out.
“You had a panic attack over this?” He asks tentatively. He doesn't want to know her answer, since it pains him to know he put her through something as cruel as that, but he has to make this right.
Her expression hardens, “Yes. Realizing you might've just lost a person you care deeply for and love is rather traumatizing, you know. And I don't exactly have a good grip on my emotions, not when it comes to you.”
He lets a small smile grace his face, his knuckles coming up to brush the path of her cheekbone. “I'm so sorry, Jude. I'm so sorry.”
“I'm glad you're here. That's what matters,” she hums, pulling him in and kissing him again. Again. Again. Again. It tastes like forgiveness.
They kiss until their cheeks and noses are rosy from the cold, freezing when they touch them, but hearts warmer and lips hotter than ever before. And maybe his blood is rushing south, too, but that's just a side effect of being enraptured with Jude.
“Come to my place,” he breathes against her lips. She shakes her head, eyes frantic, “I'm not ready to do that yet. I need.. I need some time to process.”
Cardan scoffs, “I'm not a sex fiend, Jude. I just want you to come to my place so we can talk a bit more. I'd never force you to.. You already know that, don't you? That I wouldn't do anything you don't want me to do?”
“I do know that, I just.. need to be reassured of it first.” Quietly, she adds, “Please.”
“You don't have to say ‘please.’ I'd do whatever you asked of me, sweetheart.”
“Sweetheart?” Her lips turn downwards with her upside down smile, and his heart flutters. She's so gorgeous.
He shrugs, “You're sweet and you have my heart. Is that good enough for you?” Their lips are brushing, and his heart is jolting in his chest every time she exhales and he inhales her released air, stealing it from her greedily.
A hesitant, but grateful smile passes over her face as she scans his eyes, the lines of his face, the crook of his eyebrows.
“I love you.”
He gasps, staggering backwards. She catches him with a hand on his arm, having a different idea on what his surprise means, “Don't go.”
“Never.” He crushes his lips onto hers, gluing their bodies together against the door, making it creak. Liliver and Van must be thinking they're doing the deed on their newly purchased home.
And if she smiles into the kiss, then that means he has to kiss her that much harder to make it happen again.
And again. Again. Again.
Notes:
hope that was okay!!
amitabriar on Chapter 1 Sat 27 Jul 2024 08:35AM UTC
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vicwritesfic on Chapter 1 Sat 27 Jul 2024 01:43PM UTC
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vicwritesfic on Chapter 1 Sat 27 Jul 2024 02:19PM UTC
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amitabriar on Chapter 2 Sat 27 Jul 2024 02:45PM UTC
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vicwritesfic on Chapter 2 Sat 27 Jul 2024 04:41PM UTC
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someonedefinitely on Chapter 2 Sat 27 Jul 2024 04:04PM UTC
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vicwritesfic on Chapter 2 Sat 27 Jul 2024 04:28PM UTC
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