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“I’ll never understand you and your smutty books.”
Nesta looks up, head pillowed on Cassian’s chest, and narrows her eyes. Still she’s smiling at him and he smiles back, brushing back a bit of hair that’s fallen out of her braid.
“It’s historical romance.”
“Soooooo regency smut?”
“Cassian.”
He laughs at her half-hearted scolding, attempting to pull her closer. In the hammock she’s already squished into his side. The only way to get closer would involve her laying completely on top of him which Nesta had already protested saying the position would make reading too difficult.
Cassian’s wings are splayed out, resting on the ground. One leg was out of the hammock, rocking them gently (Nesta would shoot him a glare every time he stopped). Nesta had dozed off a few times only to wake up the moment her book started to slide out of her grasp.
“It’s not smut,” She says haughtily and then mutters, “this time.”
“I’ll take your word for it, sweetheart.” He kisses her on the temple, smiling against her skin as Nesta’s lips curve up.
The silence is easy, the two simply enjoying each other’s company. Cassian can feel her affection through the bond and he’s sure Nesta can feel it too. And if she didn’t, if she ever doubted it, he’d tell her a million times, repeat “I love you” till she believed it, his mate deserved to always know how loved she was.,
“I love you,” Nesta whispers, moving Cassian’s hand from her waist to kiss his palm.
“I love you more.”
“Not possible, dumbass.”
Cassian chuckles, pressing his face into her hair. “Well then I love you just as much as you love me.”
Nesta just hummed, seemingly satisfied with his response. She wriggled until Cassian shifted and she could tuck her head under his chin, her book on his chest. He rubs her back, she reaches out to squeeze his hand, he brings her hand up to his lips, and smiles as she laughs happily.
Eventually she shuts her book, yawning, she tucks herself closer to Cassian and he wraps his arms around her tighter.
“I love you more.” Cassian whispers quickly, knowing Nesta is nearly asleep.
She flips him off, laying that same hand on his chest. “Impossible.”