Chapter Text
three years, four months and twelve days before
Tomas burst out laughing beside her, "Why on earth would you get a license?" he asked looking at her, "I can take you anywhere, you just call me."
Nesta huffed, putting her hands between her thighs to warm up against the freezing cold, "Because I can't always depend on you, Tommy." she leaned forward into the small cockpit to pick up the bag at her feet, "Plus, if I got my license, you wouldn't have to drive all these extra kilometres every morning and I could go wherever I want when you're not around."
She pulled out her phone, checking the message from her sister Elain warning her that she would be staying at her friend Lucien's house. She shook her head. She couldn't understand how it was possible that they weren't together yet.
Looking up at her boyfriend, she knew she'd said the wrong things when Tomas rolled his eyes, moving his hand from her thigh and bringing it to the steering wheel, "And why would you ever go anywhere without me?"
It was her turn to roll her eyes, "I meant to go to the supermarket or the gym." then, she turned to face him, giving him a reassuring smile. She didn't want him to worry about her. "I don't like going to clubs at night, you know that. I wouldn't go anywhere like that without you, I know you're jealous."
At the time, the words had had positive connotations for Nesta. That overwhelming toxic feature of his character that he had always managed to sell her for something to hold on to like a precious treasure, "I'm jealous of you because you're mine, because I love you and I don't want anyone else to see you the way I do. You are only mine."
Nesta felt herself blush and looked out the window, "I love you, too."
"As you should," he flashed her an amused grin and his hand returned to her thigh, giving it a quick squeeze, "Now can you please drop this insane driving licence idea?"
She nodded, gritting her teeth. She didn't need her own car, she didn't need to move around on her own. Tomas was always available to take her wherever they went.
She relaxed against the seats, humming to the song that was playing from the radio and forced a tight smile on her lips, thanking life for finding a perfect soulmate for her.
If only she had known at that moment how effective his control over her was, she might have saved herself years of shock and pain.
three years and six days before
"Can you take me to Claire's bar before you go with the boys?" she asked wearily between the sheets.
Tomas had gotten up immediately after finishing and was already starting to get dressed. He had done it so quickly that when Nesta shifted her gaze to him, he already had his boxers and trousers on. "I can't." he simply replied, "And don't even think about getting a ride from your friends."
She groaned, pouting a little, "So I should just stay home and do nothing?"
He didn't even look at her as he slipped his shirt on, "I already told you, I don't like it when you ride with Emerie. That girl is a public menace and she can't drive at all."
She let herself fall backwards onto the bed, covering her bare breasts, "She doesn't drive that bad." she muttered.
Tomas scoffed, "But if she hit a pole last week."
Nesta chuckled, turning on her stomach and looking over her shoulder at him. He'd had asked her that morning if he could stop by before going to the bar with the boys, to hang out with her for a bit. They'd ended up in bed pretty much immediately - her family out with kin - and now, not even half an hour after he'd arrived, he was already leaving.
At the beginning of their relationship it had bothered her. The fact that he would go to her house for a quick fuck, during which she hardly ever finished, and then go out with his friends, leaving her at home. After a few months of being together, Nesta thought he was doing it so he wouldn't leave her alone all day. That he was doing it to show her that he could find some time to show her his love.
God how wrong she had been.
"What if I get the girls to come here?" she asked suddenly, when he was ready to leave.
Tomas sighed so loudly that Nesta wondered if he'd been breathless the whole time. When he looked at her, she knew she had angered him. He ran a hand over his face, looking into her eyes, "Why do you have to be like that? I asked you if you could please not go out with anyone tonight and you keep pushing and pushing." he exclaimed exasperated. Nesta immediately felt guilty, "If you care so much about seeing your friends, go out with them, but when they make you do something completely idiotic and stupid, don't come crying to me."
She shook her head, swallowing back tears at the tone of voice he used. He was right, why couldn't she stay home one night if he asked her without making too much fuss? Tomas had the right to ask her something like that and it seemed like she was just looking for an excuse to argue. She apologised, getting up to walk over to him and wrapped her arms around his body, kissing his taut jaw, "I'll stay home."
Tomas pushed her roughly away from him, planting a quick kiss on her cheek and leaving with a simple bye and Nesta was left alone that night. And the next one again and again, until Emerie stopped asking her out and the only times she could, was when Tomas was with her.
two years, nine months and twenty-six days before
Nesta's heart had stopped in her chest the second her father had called her from the emergency room.
Feyre had burst into tears when Elain, who had been beside her during the whole call, had warned her that their parents had been involved in a serious accident and that their mum was now fighting for her life in an operating room. Their dad hadn't gone into details, but he too was crying as he told her that it was something major and that they would have to hurry to get to the hospital.
Nesta hadn't thought two seconds about dialling Tomas' number and what she thought would be a short, hurried call had turned into a fifteen minute argument.
"I already told you I can't come, I'm at the arcade with my friends, call someone else," her boyfriend was telling her in an annoyed tone.
"Please," she breathed, "Please, Tommy, we have to go to the hospital. I don't know who else to call. The buses would take too long." tears flowed undisturbed down her cheeks, but her voice was controlled. She could hear Feyre in the other room crying in despair and Elain trying to calm her down in every way as Nesta tried to find a way to get to the hospital as quickly as possible.
If only she hadn't let him talk her out of getting her license.
"Nesta, stop fucking bugging me, I said I can't. And the discussion is over."
She was about to retort that it was his fault, she was about to yell at him that he owed her, that he'd promised her that if she ever needed a ride, he'd be there for her, but the signal of the call ending rumbled through her phone and she screamed in frustration.
She couldn't call Emerie or Claire. She couldn't call anyone.
Tomas had made sure she had no one to call but him. And now Nesta was alone.
She had helped Feyre calm down, updated them on the situation and they had taken three buses, taking over an hour and a half to get to the hospital. And it didn't matter that they ran from each stop to the next. It didn't matter that they had prayed to every god in existence that their mother would be alive when they got there.
Because Adele Archeron was already dead.
two years, nine months and twenty-three days before
"Get out of my house!" cried Nesta, "Get out of my house and don't come back!"
Tomas was fuming with anger, his face flushed and the vein in his neck pulsing, "Nesta you need to calm down. You're not angry with me right now-"
"Yes, I fucking am!" she sobbed, throwing her arms in the air, "It's your fault!"
His gaze darkened, "It's not my fault your mother died," he whispered threateningly.
She shuddered as if he had struck her physically. She blinked, letting some tears fall, before whispering back, "Get out, Tomas, and never show your face again."
He shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose, "And how are you going to do that without me, huh? How are you going to get around? How are you going to survive these days without me, without anyone?" he had moved so close that Nesta could feel his breath on her face, but she didn't pull away. He kept his gaze fixed in hers, "You're alone, can't you see that? You need me."
She held her breath, "I don't need you. I don't need anyone." she said through her teeth, lifting her chin up, "I'm going to get my license and I'll surely know how to take better care of my body than you ever did in our entire relationship."
When she saw that her words had the desired effect in the boy in front of her, who backed away a step and began breathing heavily, crossing his arms over his chest, she kept talking.
"That's what you've always been, a taxi driver and a sexual pastime," she spat at him.
Tomas remained silent, an angry grimace painted on his face. He turned to the door, grabbing the handle and then looked over his shoulder at her, a grin creeping over his face. "Have fun getting your license and dying like your mother."
And then Tomas disappeared and Nesta never saw him again.
one year, seven months and five days before
"Miss, are you okay?"
The driving instructor's hand rested on her shoulder and Nesta's head snapped in the direction of the woman next to her. She must have looked a lot more shocked than she thought because the woman cursed, "Honey, I don't think we should try to drive today."
Nesta wanted to nod, to tell her she was right, to yell that she couldn't do it. She didn't want to, didn't want to. She clenched her hands around the steering wheel, hoping to find a foothold, an anchor, something that would bind her to this world when her vision blurred and she felt her chest tighten.
She tried to breathe, but she couldn't get the air down, couldn't get her lungs to expand, couldn't-
"Girl, I think we'd better get out of the car," the woman murmured. She reached for the keyhole and slipped them out from under the steering wheel, keeping her gaze fixed on Nesta, who was struggling to focus more with each passing second. The instructor opened the door and walked around the car, opening hers, but Nesta couldn't move.
She closed her eyes, forcing her body to swallow oxygen before she passed out. When She did, the sound that came from her throat sounded like the one of an old man on the verge of death. She brought one hand to her chest, the other to her stomach when she felt she was going to be sick.
She unbuckled her seatbelt with some trouble with trembling hands, but as soon as she was free of the snake that was pinning her against the seat, she moved the woman who was now calling for help from other instructors and dropped to the ground on her knees, hurling up the lunch she had eaten a few hours before.
She didn't feel people's hands on her body as they helped her up, nor did she hear her father's voice asking what had happened. She didn't realise she was back home in her bed, didn't realise she had been there for days.
She could only imagine the fear and pain her mother must have felt the moment the car skidded on the ice and her father was no longer in control of the vehicle.
one year, five months and twenty-two days before
Nesta had taken some downers before going for her first drive. This time she had been confident that she would be able to drive for at least half an hour without any problems, that she would drive home in her own car, with her father beside her.
This had not been the case.
For the fourth time she had sat down, buckled her seat belt and done all the checks she had to do before starting, and then panic had taken over her body. It had assailed every fibre of her being and had squeezed her lungs and heart so tightly that Nesta had thought she was dying. She had jumped out of the car when she had felt the vehicle roar beneath her once she had turned the keys in the ignition and vomited again.
She would never be able to get her license.
the day
It had been almost three years since her mother had died. Almost three years since her problems had started, since she had realised what kind of person she was. What kind of person Tomas was.
She had spent the last three years of her life in panic, in pain. Every step she took, every word she said, every look she gave, cost her more than anything else.
Nesta wasn't living. This was not life.
She was convinced that her mother had taken her soul with her when she had left her.
Because Nesta was empty most of the time, drained of all emotion, completely anaesthetised and oblivious to the outside world around her at times. And then there were the moments, lasting seconds or moments or whole minutes of excruciating agony, when Nesta felt it all.
And that all threatened to crush her every time.
Feyre and Elain had somehow managed to overcome it. They had managed to go their separate ways and had left their sister behind, because she had wanted to be left behind.
And if Nesta had been lonely when no one had been able to take her to her dying mother, she had not yet known true solitude. Because when even your own family turned its back on you and left you alone to cry on the road of that path you were supposed to take together while you screamed and no one could hear you, only then would you look up and see Loneliness smiling at you as it held out its hand.
Now, sitting on the floor in one of the aisles of the university library, she was holding her head in her hands and trying not to fall asleep, with little result.
She had not slept that night, like the previous thousand, but unlike the other mornings, she had not been able to take her tablets and during the third lecture of the day she had risked falling asleep on the desk.
She closed her eyes for a few seconds, opening them occasionally when she heard noises, but she must have fallen asleep completely at some point, because when she opened them again, her head was resting on the carpet and a hand was shaking her shoulder.
"Can you hear me?" a deep, concerned voice was asking. Nesta closed her eyes again and the grip on her shoulder tightened, "Can you hear me? Are you alright?" the boy demanded. She moved her lips, but no sound came out, "What an idiotic question, you're obviously not okay."
Nesta rolled onto her back, opening her eyes fully and looking up at the ceiling of the library. What was going on?
"Do you want me to go get someone, do you need me to call an ambulance?" the voice kept asking, sounding more and more concerned with each passing second. Nesta shifted her gaze to the person whose hand was on her shoulder and had started massaging it, applying pressure with its thumb. The movement harder than necessary, as if it was done to keep her awake.
The boy was handsome. Long hair held up in a tousled bun and the faint hint of a beard that hadn't been shaved in days covered the sculpted face of what might have looked like a Greek god. She couldn't reach his eyes that hers slowly closed.
Nesta was so tired.
"Hey, no no, open your eyes, stay awake," he shook her again, harder this time, and she groaned raising her left arm, "Sorry, I just need you to stay awake," he apologised, Nesta could hear the apprehension in his voice.
Why was he worried? He didn't know her.
"Can you tell me your name?"
She opened her mouth, trying to answer, but nothing came out and she looked up at him at that point. His dark eyes, a very common brown, stared at her glowing with emotion, but Nesta couldn't bring herself to care. She was having such a hard time staying awake, she just wanted to sleep, sleep, sleep.
"Alright, you don't have to answer, can you sit up?" he asked her then, after a minute of silence. She shook her head, letting it fall to the side, shifting her gaze to the floor again. He cursed and then removed his hand from Nesta's shoulder. "I'll call the ambulance."
Her eyes snapped to him so fast they sent a rush of pain through her brain. She moved her hand closer to him, resting it on his leg, and the boy snapped his head in her direction at the exact instant she sobbed and panic threatened to take control. She shook her head, taking short, laboured breaths, "No, no."
"Sweetheart I don't know what to do and I can't leave you here," he replied, putting the phone down and taking her hand in his. He glanced left and right, searching for anyone else. He sighed, returning his gaze to her, "If you can say a whole sentence without passing out and getting up I won't call 118. But, for all we both know, you could be having a stroke or a heart attack and we wouldn't know, and I'd rather you didn't die," he chuckled at the end of the monologue.
There was no trace of amusement in that sound though, nothing to suggest he was enjoying this.
Nesta tightened her fingers around his, "My name is Nesta."
She didn't know if she had spoken, maybe she had just thought she had, but the smile that appeared on his lips was answer enough to her doubts, "Nesta." he repeated, offering her a nod of his head, "I like that. My name is Cassian." he added. She didn't answer, but continued to stare at him.
"Can you by any chance tell me how old you are?" he asked after a while, arranging his bent legs underneath him.
Nesta sighed, closing her eyes, "Twenty-two."
Cassian gave her a little nudge with his knee, "Eyes open or I'll call an ambulance."
She obeyed, "How old are you?" she asked in a thin voice, so weak she was startled. She needed to sleep.
"I'll be twenty-four in a few days." he answered quickly, "Now a slightly more complex question, why did you faint?" he asked and the muscles around his mouth seemed to tense.
She shook her head, now much more aware of what was happening. Slowly she was returning to the world of the living. She removed her hand from Cassian's and felt as if he wanted to hold her for a moment, but he let go immediately and she thought she had imagined it. She pulled herself up into a seat, holding her head with her hands.
"I didn't pass out. I think I fell asleep," she replied, massaging her forehead. She grimaced and looked up at him.
The usual expression he'd had up to that point only seemed to grow worse and the worry doubled, "What do you mean you think you fell asleep?" then his brows knitted together and he leaned towards her, speaking in a lower voice, "I'm sorry if this seems a little inappropriate, but do you have a home?"
It took Nesta a while to realise what he was alluding to with those words, but when she did, she nodded, adding a faint, "I don't sleep."
His eyebrows shot up, "You don't sleep." it wasn't a question.
"I don't sleep." she repeated, resting one hand on one of the shelves and pulling herself up.
He nodded, looking up at her from below and pulling himself up in turn shortly after, ready to catch her if she fell to the floor one more time.
Nesta seemed to become aware of the situation they were in and felt her body stiffen suddenly and waited, waited for panic to assail her, for shame to take over. She waited to feel everything and too quickly, but her breathing did not change and her vision did not blur and Nesta thought she was dreaming at last, that she was sleeping so deeply that she could imagine a life where these things did not dominate her life.
When Cassian gave her a small smile, her heart missed a beat, "How are you feeling?"
She nodded and answered without thinking. Because everyone had been asking her the same thing for years. "Good."
He seemed to study her face for a few moments, then offered her an arm, turning to the strangely empty tables that stood in front of the entrance, "How about I buy you a coffee and then maybe take you to one of your friends?" he asked, "I don't want to intrude too much and ask if you want a ride home, but at least they could help you."
Nesta looked at him with a confused expression, "Home?"
The slightly more relieved expression that had begun to make its way onto his face fell away completely, replaced by an apologetic one, "Forgive me, I understood that-"
She quickly blocked him, "I have a home, I'm not homeless," he sighed, "But why would I want to go home?"
He looked at her as a second head had popped up on her shoulder, "Nesta," the way he said her name made her forget for a moment how messed up her life was, "you were sleeping on the floor of the library. You can't stay at the university, you risk accidentally falling asleep and hurting yourself. Are you narcoleptic?" he asked her suddenly.
She opened her eyes wide, linking her arm with his, "No." she whispered.
He chuckled, "Sorry, I didn't mean to imply anything, but it's not every day you find a pretty girl asleep on the floor. And I heard a thud, that's why I thought you fainted. I heard you fall," he glanced at her.
She still looked at him with wide eyes and didn't stop as he bent down to pick up her backpack and put it on his shoulder. Cassian turned another smile to her, "You there? Can you walk?"
She nodded and they spent the next few hours in the university cafeteria and sometimes Cassian would ask her questions that she couldn't answer, but he didn't force her to speak and seemed more than satisfied with the monosyllabic answers she gave him.
When she told him that she didn't know anyone there and that she didn't have a car to get home, he didn't comment on either, but offered to give her a ride and she accepted without hesitation.
And she accepted the next day when she met him after class on her way out of the chemistry building. And the next day when his car pulled up in front of the bus stop where she was waiting. And the next day again and again and again.
And suddenly Nesta was no longer alone.
three months and one day after
Cassian had been staring at her for so long that Nesta was beginning to wonder if he was dead. He sat so still, clutching the sandwich between his fingers as if the wind might have blown it away. She was also starting to feel a little uncomfortable. Not because her friend was staring at her, she was used to that, but because of the way he was doing it.
They had gone out for a walk in the mountains and had reached the top after more than four hours of hiking, but the landscape in front of them had erased any physical pain they had accumulated during the climb. They had sat on rocks at the summit and were now having lunch.
She was staring at the mouth of the Sidra, the point where the sea was darkest, but she couldn't chew with him looking at her as if she would erupt at any moment.
"For God's sake Cassian, what is it?" she asked exasperated at one point, fixing her eyes on him.
He didn't answer, but took a bite of his sandwich, furrowing his brow even more.
Nesta shook her head, urging him to speak. She huffed, pointing to the ravine below them with one hand, "I'll jump if you don't tell me why the fuck you look like a failed stalker."
Cassian chuckled at that, finally looking away and Nesta let go of a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.
"I wanted to ask you something," he began, shifting his eyes to the landscape, "But first you have to promise me you won't jump."
Nesta looked at him sideways, "That depends."
He opened his eyes wide, laughing, "Then no, I won't tell you what I'm thinking about."
She rolled her eyes, huffing, but let it go. She was used to this kind of conversation with Cassian by now.
"Okay, I'll ask," he said suddenly, startling her. Normally he would have laughed at having managed to provoke such an overt reaction in her, but he didn't and it made her worry even more, "But if you don't want to answer you don't have to and we can shut up or change the subject."
"If you put it that way, I'm already telling you I don't want to talk about it," she pointed out.
It was true. Cassian had gotten to know her in such a short time that it had shocked her at first. She still didn't understand why, not fully, but he had stayed and was still there and didn't seem to want to leave anytime soon.
He sighed, completely ignoring her comment, "Why is it that every time we drive it feels like someone is holding a gun to your head? What is it that scares you?" he asked to introduce the topic, "If I'm driving too fast or if it's something I do, you can tell me."
Nesta looked at him. She looked at him and didn't say anything and he understood she wasn't going to answer, not at that moment at least, and they stayed in that spot on the summit for another hour in silence. Where she had time to think, to reason about how important Cassian actually was to her. About how much Cassian had done in such a short time, to bring her back to life.
They had just arrived at the car park, were stamping their feet on the asphalt to remove the excess mud under their shoes, when Nesta looked at the car door and stiffened. She felt his gaze on her body again, but she took a breath and got into the car, sitting down and letting the fear fade, letting the storm inside of her settle.
They were going to face a couple of hours' drive back to the city, more than enough time for her to be able to tell him-
"My mum died. In a car accident." she said in one breath as Cassian took a seat next to her.
His hands stopped around the steering wheel, tightening. He slowly turned to her, nodding slowly, "Yeah, I figured as much. I just didn't know how." she closed and opened her fists, keeping her gaze fixed in front of her. She took a deep breath and Cassian placed a hand on hers, "We don't have to talk about it now. But thank you for telling me, for trusting me."
She bowed her head, "If I don't do this now I might never do it again," she murmured.
"Okay," he indulged her, then intertwined their fingers, "I'll wait for you though, I don't want you to tell me this very second."
Nesta sighed, closing her eyes, "Alright."
"Alright." he repeated.
Twenty minutes passed before she managed to open her mouth again, "You know Tomas?" she asked, despite knowing full well that he had a clear and precise picture and idea of who the boy in question was. They had already talked about him several times.
Cassian just nodded, but Nesta didn't fail to notice that the muscles in his arm twitched.
"You already know how... complicated our relationship was," she murmured.
He scoffed, "Complicated is not the word I would use to describe your relationship." when she shot him a look, he turned red, "Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt." he said settling back in his seat, "Please continue."
She straightened her back, "The day my mother died, I called Tomas."
"Of course," he replied, and there was no trace of sarcasm, Nesta noted, because anyone would have called their boyfriend at a similar time. He shifted his gaze to the mirror, slowing the car and moving into the right lane, letting a car that Nesta had noticed had been on his heels for a few minutes pass him. It had stressed her out more than she'd imagined, because once it had passed them, she was just a bit calmer.
"We didn't know how to get to the hospital and my dad couldn't pick us up. I asked him to take me there and he didn't, because he was out with some friends of his," she confessed, furrowing her brow, "I realised that day how much Tomas controlled my life. I realised that I had lost everyone because of him and how now I wouldn't be able to say goodbye to my mother because I didn't have a driving licence and I wouldn't be able to get there in time."
She felt emotion rise in her throat, but nothing like she had felt every time she thought about that day. And maybe it was because she was getting over it, maybe it was because of his hand on her leg moving his fingers to soothe her, she didn't know.
"There were months after Mum died when I couldn't even get into cars," she continued in a weak voice, "I only managed to do it after seven months, because we had to go on holiday and my dad didn't want to leave me home alone. He was afraid I might do something... reckless." she paused as they both assimilated the true meaning of those words and Cassian squeezed her leg, taking a deep breath, "After that trip I managed to ride in the car, not with a few worries, but I did it."
"I'm glad you made it," he told her, keeping his gaze fixed on the road. She looked up at him, smiling faintly and was surprised by that gesture. She didn't think she'd ever be able to talk about her mother without bursting into tears and yet here she was, smiling at her best friend.
"Me too," she said, "you may be less happy to hear this part."
"I'm sure I won't blame you for it, whatever it is," he said softly.
Nesta looked at him and couldn't find any indication that he was lying to her, so she continued, "The last time I saw Tomas, he wished I would die in the car like my mother had, three days after her death."
Cassian's head snapped towards her, his eyes wide and his lips parted slightly. He returned his gaze to the road immediately, seeing how Nesta had begun to shift her gaze from him to the road, but the shock in his features didn't seem to go away, "Please tell me you're joking."
She continued, without giving him an answer, "Since that day, every time I've tried to get behind the wheel, every time I've gone to driving school so I could learn, I've had a panic attack." she said, torturing the inside of her cheek, "A few times I've ended up throwing up everything in my body and I've never been able to do more than start the car. I've never been able to get my license and I have no idea how my sisters put up with it," she concluded.
Cassian remained silent for so long that Nesta began to think the worst. Maybe she had been wrong to tell him, maybe she had gone too far. Her father had told her once, that she tended to say too little or too much, there was no middle ground with her. Maybe she'd shared too much this time and now Cassian thought she was a fool and a coward. After all, it was only a matter of learning how to drive, even stupid people could do it and it certainly didn't take a degree-
"I don't know what you're thinking, but I can hear the gears in your brain moving and I know perfectly well it's not good," he said, squeezing her hand when she tried to pull away. He gave her a sincere look, "I'm sorry, Nesta," he whispered, "For everything you've been through and experienced. For not realising what the problem was sooner." then he grimaced, "I would have avoided doing two or three of the shits I did in the car when we first met, now I understand why you reacted the way you did." he said referring to when during the first few weeks he'd given her a ride home, he'd speeded at red lights or passed other cars on roads where they shouldn't have. "I'm sorry you had to have that asshole next to you. If I could just talk to him..." he trailed off, tensing his jaw. He breathed through his nose, watching her when they finally ended up on a straight bit of road.
His eyes blazed with a rage that Nesta had rarely seen in people, but there was more than that. Sadness, sorrow for the little girl she had been, for what had been taken from her. But not pity, never pity from the boy she had come to know and like, "I'm sorry."
seven months and fifteen days after
"Nesta breathe," Cassian was whispering to her, one hand on her shoulder and the other on her hand, gripping the steering wheel in front of her.
She closed her eyes, shaking her head, trying to swallow air. All she could hear was the pounding of her heart about to explode in her chest.
"Yes, sweetheart, you need to breathe," he chuckled. The hand on her shoulder dropped lower, starting to caress her skin there, "Inhale." he whispered, inhaling through his nose, "Exhale," he blew the air out of his mouth. "Now together," he ordered her. When Nesta didn't, but only began to breathe more heavily, Cassian told her to open her eyes.
She opened her eyes wide, watching her boyfriend as he mimicked the air rushing in and out of her lungs with his hand, "Breathe with me," he told her with an encouraging smile. Nesta wanted to tell him to fuck off, but the next time he inhaled, she did so with him. And slowly, after a few minutes of Cassian whispering soft words of comfort and guiding her through the whole process, Nesta was able to regain full control of her body.
"Very good," he finally told her, leaving a kiss on her temple. She looked over the windscreen, "Are you ready? Do you remember everything you need to do?" he asked her, giving her more room to start, but still keeping a hand on her leg. She nodded, not speaking for fear of breaking the bubble she was in.
It had been a couple of months since Cassian had let her drive his car. Or rather, letting her have panic attacks in his car whenever Nesta thought she could make it.
And she had made it, a dozen times now. She never made it more than twenty metres before she'd slammed on the brakes and thrown herself out of the car to vomit, but the last two times she'd managed not to let the panic take her over and she'd managed not to lose control completely.
This time she felt she could do more. Cassian had positioned the car further back than usual in the car park of that abandoned neighborhood to see if she could turn when she got to the far end. She'd gone back and forth three times before, but the idea of having to turn put a different kind of fear into her.
"I got it." she muttered more to herself than to him.
She started the car, stepping on the accelerator and slowly lifting the one on the clutch pedal. The car started forward and Nesta let out a breath, feeling her heart beat in her throat.
"Slowly, like this..." murmured Cassian as they reached the end of the car park, "Now slow down a little and turn the steering wheel to the right, slowly," he explained to her. Nesta did exactly that and the car turned smoothly on the asphalt. She didn't even realise she had arrived on the opposite side of the car park until she had to turn again and again and she did it so many times that Cassian laughed beside her. When she decided she was tired and ready to get out and really breathe, she braked slowly, managing to stop without turning off the car. She turned the keys in the lock and then the car stopped roaring beneath her.
She turned to her boyfriend, a smile going from ear to ear, and whispered, "I did it." a laugh escaped her control.
Cassian did the same, nodding, "You did it!"
They both jumped in, banging their heads against each other's and burst out laughing, but the fun was short-lived as Cassian slid a hand to the back of her head and pulled her against him, kissing her and conveying all the love and pride he was feeling at that moment.
They had swapped places soon after and he had driven her home. Nesta had been about to ask him if he wanted to come in - by now her family was used to seeing him in the house around the clock, being that they'd been together for a couple of months - but his phone had rung.
"Mor?"
At the blonde girl's name, Nesta had felt that tinge of jealousy rise in her stomach.
Cassian had frowned, "Calm down, calm down, I can be there in a moment. Are you at your father's or your mother's?" he had glanced at Nesta letting her know he wasn't going to stop and she had smiled, leaning over to him and leaving a light kiss on his lips.
Mor always called at the most inopportune times and Cassian, no matter where they were or what they were doing, would drop everything, take Nesta home and run to her friend's house to help her with whatever problems she was having.
Before he darted off her street, he had promised her that he would call her that night when he got back home, but Nesta knew that wasn't going to happen. That's why she wasn't disappointed when she waited until midnight for his call and it didn't come, and then one o'clock and two o'clock, until sleep claimed her and she surrendered to it.
ten months, two weeks and eleven days after
"Are you serious?" asked Nesta, letting her hands fall from Cassian's face down her sides.
His silence let her know that yes, he was serious and that yes, he would leave in the middle of... what they were doing.
"Cassian this has to stop, it can't go on like this forever," she murmured, turning to pick up her shirt on the floor. When she turned back around, he was adjusting his crotch with a grimace on his face and Nesta had to call on all her strength not to yell at him.
"Nes, sweetheart," he began, with that hangdog expression he always had whenever they discussed this matter.
She lifted a hand to stop him, fixing her icy eyes in his dark ones, "I don't care to hear yet another excuse." she said through her teeth, tucking her shirt in and covering her naked body, "It's been months, months Cassian, that every time she calls you, for whatever reason, you just grab your shit and go and refuse to give me any real explanations." she hated the way her voice sounded, but she couldn't help it. He had stopped himself from dressing and was watching her carefully. "I understand that Morrigan may have some personal issues, I don't need to know what it is, but why she needs you, every time something happens to her, is something that doesn't sit well with me."
He sighed, running a hand over his face, "I need you to trust me, Nes," he reached out to her, taking a thin hand between his large, warm ones. Hands in which Nesta had found comfort over the past year. His eyes sparkled with love as they settled on her face, "I need you to trust me."
Nesta breathed softly, squinting her eyes, "I do trust you, Cass, but-"
"Then that's enough," he interjected, squeezing her hand. He leaned down to kiss her and she bent her head back, taking in the love she craved every second of her day. When he pulled away it was as if someone had poured a bucket of ice water over her, "I love you," he whispered.
He left the house without saying goodbye and Nesta was left alone in her room, her head still bent back and the phantom touch of his lips on hers.
one year, four months and eight days after
Their anniversary was just around the corner and Nesta couldn't have been happier.
Or so she pretended to be.
The last three months had been agonising.
Between her and Cassian things were flowing well. She could get into the car and have almost no reaction, and she could certainly now turn the steering wheel left and right and go more than fifty metres in reverse without skidding. Cassian had almost finished his classes and only had a couple of exams left before he could graduate and she was so proud. She had spent Christmas with him and his adoptive family and had had the pleasure of meeting his brothers, who had lived in another country for the last two years and planned to return to Velaris for good after New Year's Eve. She had never seen him so happy as when she had gone with him to the airport to pick up Azriel and Rhysand.
Nesta's only big, fat problem was a certain blonde girl.
Morrigan had managed to become so entrenched in their relationship that she sometimes didn't even realize it anymore. It was like having a daughter who needed attention every four hours or she would die.
Nesta was sorry that the girl was so miserable that she needed someone by her side so often, but it drove her insane that this person had to be her boyfriend. Especially when it affected the relationship and the dynamics between them.
Cassian was sometimes so tired that he would fall asleep in the middle of class and quite often Nesta had joked that she was the one who never slept, hoping to get the truth out of him once and for all, but she had never got anywhere.
However, when Nesta had snapped and he had tried to pin the blame on her, she had sent him away and explicitly told him it was over. Cassian had looked at her with his mouth wide open, had tried to apologise, blaming it on the lack of sleep, exhaustion, but they both knew it was all his fault.
She'd been sick for days on end, terrified that she'd lost yet another person in her life, but on the sixth day Cassian had come to her house and asked if they could go for a ride.
They had been out till four in the morning, laughing in the traffic, shouting the songs. He'd made love to her in that car, which was just a car like any other as much as it meant everything to the two of them. It had been the place where Nesta had learned to trust him, where she had confessed to him her every doubt, her every fear. It had been on those seats where they had first declared their love for each other.
He had sung her a song by John Legend, a song that promised eternal love even through the ups and downs of a relationship. He had promised her that he would stand by her even when no one else would. He had apologised to her for all the times he had run to Mor and promised her that it would never happen again.
If only Nesta hadn't believed him.
one year, four months and twenty-one days after
She opened her eyes the second the mattress moved beneath her, warning her that Cassian had woken up and was getting up. She smiled into the pillow, ready to roll over and pull him back down into the covers with her, but when she saw the time on the alarm clock placed on her nightstand, she found a very bad feeling twisting her gut.
She turned to her boyfriend, watching him as he moved stealthily around the room, picking up his clothes. When their eyes met, Nesta already knew what was going on. Cassian looked at her carefully and made to open his mouth, justifying why she was sneaking out of her house at 3:27am, but Nesta shook her head, bringing the blankets up to her chin and murmuring loudly enough that he could hear her, she said, "Get out and don't come back."
And Cassian did.
one year, six months and one week after
Nesta had woken up that morning with a dry throat. She'd gotten up, washed and dressed, and got into her car, driving out of the Archeron's driveway without so much as a hint of panic. She had driven for hours, dulled by pain and sorrow. When her mother had told her when she was sixteen that heartbreak wasn't easily mended, Nesta hadn't believed her. How was it possible for a person to be so foolishly taken in by someone that they felt so bad when they left you? It was too idiotic a concept for her to comprehend. She would never let someone get so attached to her that she would rip a piece of her heart out when they left.
God how wrong she'd been.
She hadn't seen Cassian in over a month and each day seemed worse than the last.
It was a different pain from the one she'd felt when her mother had died, but no less strong. No less heartbreaking.
She'd gotten her license only a week before and had driven so many hours since she'd had that stupid piece of paper in her hands.
Cassian had known. Cassian had known that she was going to have her driving test that day. He should have known she'd managed to pass it. It couldn't be any other way.
And she had hoped with every ounce of her being that he would text her. That he would call her and tell her how proud he was of her. Because Nesta hadn't cared about other people.
She hadn't cared that her sisters had prepared a dinner in her honour and that her father had almost cried when she announced that she had made it. She hadn't cared that her friends, the old ones she'd managed to regain and the new ones she'd met over the months, had been so happy for her that they'd given her half the gadgets that now hung in her car.
She hadn't cared about anything except what Cassian would think about seeing her driving the car alone, without his hand on her leg.
She'd driven past his house so many times, crying silently.
She'd visited all the places they'd been, that he'd taken her to when she'd been on the verge of breaking down each time.
Cassian had known her like no one else ever had, and that would never change.
Her mother had even told her once that breakups were easier when they happened because people stopped being in love. Nesta hadn't believed that either. Because how could it be less painful when you stopped loving someone, compared to when they wronged you and gave you a reason to leave? How could it be less painful when every little thing the other person did was no longer nice or lovable, but unbearable and irritating?
But Nesta hadn't stopped loving Cassian and never would. She hadn't stopped feeling the butterflies in her stomach fluttering every time he smiled at her when she woke up in the morning. She hadn't stopped loving the way he tied his hair back with whatever was in his hands in that moment. She hadn't stopped loving the way the lines of his tattoos coiled around his arms, his pecs.
She didn't realise she was heading for his house again, but when she found herself in front of it, she didn't carry on as she always did, she turned off the car and got out.
She was looking at the sidewalk, hesitant to take a step forward or get back in the car and run, never to return. To leave Velaris, to leave her mother and her family, to leave the university and rebuild her life in a city that wasn't made of memories and ghosts that haunted her everywhere she went.
Leaving Cassian.
She looked up at the house then, and took a breath. Two. Three.
Breathe with me, he'd told her.
You are not alone.
I love you.
Nesta, you're my soulmate.
One day I'll marry you.
You'll be the mother of my children.
There's no one else for me.
I'm sorry.
I don't know what I would do if you left.
Nesta took another steadying breath and stepped forward.