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thewayshedreamed · 2 years

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It Can Wait

Nessian Bodyguard AU

> Something Anything Masterlist

a/n: Thanks for your patience with this update! This part [6] picks up where the last one left off— after the gala they attended for Emerie's award. Prompt used are listed at the bottom!

Warning(s) for strong language and smut.

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The sheets were cool against Nesta’s skin. Almost blessedly, if not for her traitorous limbs stretching toward body heat that wasn’t there.

Huffing, she rolled to her stomach and slid her arms beneath the pillow. The right thing had been to leave Cassian’s bed for her own— at least, that’s what she told herself as she fought to get comfortable. She hadn’t bothered with clothes before climbing into bed. The more she struggled, she regretted not taking the time to let her hair down and avoiding the pins stabbing against her scalp.

Footsteps moved down the hall. Nesta recognized the cadence immediately as Cassian, and that unsettled her almost on par with the thought of an intruder. She had become so in tune with him suddenly and thoroughly in a way she resented.

Her bedroom door creaked open. Before she could manage to prop up on her elbows, the covers were pulled away in a flourish, and her body was being rolled to her back.

“What the f—“

“Oh, no you don’t,” Cassian chided, scooping her up against his chest. “We weren’t done.”

Nesta felt her brow come together while she pushed fruitlessly against Cassian’s bare shoulder. Her voice was venom. “There’s a lot of evidence to support that we were very done. Put me down.”

Cassian walked casually out of her bedroom, seemingly unaffected by her hectic squirming. Nesta tried to push her thighs away from her chest with the intention of straightening her body and rolling out of his hold. The way he countered the attempt by keeping his arms steady, completely unbothered, had sweat erupting over Nesta’s skin.

“Don’t talk to me about evidence, Nes. It was poor etiquette to slip out of the room while I was gone,” he fussed, glaring sidelong at her in his arms.

“Etiquette?” Her tone was incredulous, almost shrill. That would have been embarrassing if not for her frustration.

“Yeah,” he countered, dropping her unceremoniously to his bed. “Would you rather I called it a dick move?”

Nesta glared, uncharacteristically speechless. As if he hasn’t notice her ire in the slightest, Cassian braced his arms on either side of her body and rolled over her, pulling her tightly against him as he settled his chin on her shoulder.

Nesta blew a rogue strand of hair away from her face. At this proximity, she couldn’t tell if it was Cassian’s or her own. “I think where I choose to sleep is out of your jurisdiction.”

“Maybe,” he drawled, nuzzling his nose against her neck, “but I’m not a piece of meat, Nesta. You could at least cuddle a bit before you ghost me.”

“I wasn’t—“ She pinched the bridge of her nose with the hand that wasn’t pinned against Cassian’s warmth. “It’s hardly ghosting you if I’m down the hall and will see you tomorrow.”

Cassian huffed, unimpressed. He pulled his face away from her neck to scoot up the pillow, prompting Nesta to roll so that her back was against his front. Something in Nesta purred at the security and warmth of his hold. Something bigger, far more quick to bristle, warned that purr into a growl.

“Tell me this isn’t more than it is,” she ordered. She needed to hear him say it; never mind that it would be more comfortable to take a physical blow to the throat.

Cassian flinched, but he recovered quickly and slid his forearm up her body. He splayed his hand beneath her collarbone and pressed his lips to her hair.

“This is hardly a proposal, Sweetheart.” Nesta felt him suppress a chuckle, heard it in the restraint he held over his voice. “Just settle down and relax. You can go back to your bed before you fall asleep.”

“Fine.”

She tugged and pushed at the pillow to fluff it adequately. Cassian’s hold tightened, and another chuckle rumbled against her spine. Irritation started to brush at the inside of her ribcage, but it died out just as quickly. The energy to fight anymore was gone.

—

Nesta’s eyes snapped open some hours later. She blinked furiously to acclimate to the dark and scanned her surroundings, relaxing only when she realized the human furnace nearby was Cassian. He remained curled around her, his breaths a quiet rasp that didn’t quite qualify as a snore. Regardless, it would serve as a solid argument against cuddles in the future, should the need arise.

They had moved barely an inch since falling asleep, but Cassian’s considerable bulk meant that he would have needed to initiate any shifting. Nesta eased her eyes closed and allowed herself the luxury of a deep breath, taking his woodsy scent into her lungs greedily. With a soft sound of contentment, she relaxed her weight into the mattress and pressed her body closer. One night wouldn’t kill them.

Her subtle movements were enough to rouse Cassian from sleep. With another press of his lips to her hair, he offered a raspy hum of pleasure at the feel of Nesta’s body against him. She stilled, unsure how to respond. Cassian was still a stranger in some ways— admittedly, those ways became more nuanced with each passing day— and Nesta had no way of knowing how deeply he usually slept. It was possible that he barely clung to consciousness and wouldn’t remember the moment the next morning, or perhaps he slept lightly when he shared his bed. Knowing such things was hardly in line with her role in his life.

His arms tightened around her, pressing each curve of her body into the waiting shape of his own. Nesta didn’t resist the affection and blamed the cloak of darkness around them for the audacity.

Her hips rolled without conscious thought at the feel of Cassian’s hardened length against her backside. A sound left her mouth, something of a breathy whimper, and his large hand pressed lightly against her collarbone to bring her that much closer.

“Nes,” he whispered, almost inaudible.

It was as if he uttered a secret he hadn’t meant or revealed a truth he hadn’t yet faced alone. Nesta’s skin vibrated. With a tilt of her chin, she pressed her head to his shoulder, encouraging his strong, deft fingers to trail lightly up her neck. They rested against her throat and sent wildfire down her spine.

Being with Cassian was a study in conflict in various ways. The most notable was his ability to evoke a certain vulnerability from her while simultaneously making her feel more secure than she’d ever felt. The thought alone disoriented her.

Their breaths became harsh, yet they held the same loaded rhythm as if rehearsed a dozen times. Nesta dug her fingertips into his bicep and forearm for nothing more than purchase. His quiet groan shot straight between her thighs, and she couldn’t manage a shred of shame for it.

His affection was softer than usual, his nose tucked into the hair at her temple. He breathed her in and pressed soft, warm kisses to her flushed skin.

Nesta dissolved with each touch of his lips. Cassian used his fingers beneath her jaw to tilt her face upward and claimed her mouth with a familiarity that was almost painful.

“Please,” she murmured against his lips. His breath hitched, but then, his tongue traced the seam of her lips in permission. Nesta opened for him eagerly, barely noticing how his body pressed hers forward and pinned her against the mattress. It was subtle, yet comfortingly restrictive, and her control snapped.

She wasn’t sure how she would never stop needing it— him. That was a concern for a very distant Nesta, though.

Cassian used his knee to bend hers outward and braced his hips against her ass. She arched her back in a pitiful attempt to have him push into her, but he wasn’t so easily persuaded into action.

His hand remained at her neck, his fingers wrapped along her jaw. Using his other arm to brace his weight, he pressed kisses to her hair, her temple, her cheek. When he buried his face in her neck, her hips rocked backward with a force that startled them both.

“Shit, I—“ His words died off in favor of a moan. “Baby, I want you.”

Nesta wished her breaths weren’t leaving her in glorified pants. But then again, her need for him hadn’t been particularly subtle from the beginning. With another roll of her hips, she felt Cassian’s shift backward to allow his cock to slide between her thighs. She could tell by the glide that she was soaked for him already.

The stillness of the room heightened each touch and made every sound more sinful than the last. The shift of the bedsheets, the soft creak of the bed frame, the rasp of Cassian’s calluses over her too-sensitive skin, they all left Nesta desperate enough to allow the most damning words yet to slide past her lips.

“You have me.”

Cassian froze for milliseconds, but he recovered before Nesta could take the words back, explain them away. With a small shift of his hips, he was lined up with her opening and pressing into her in one long, slow thrust.

They stilled when he bottomed out. Cassian ran his nose over her temple, pressed his lips to the shell of her ear. All Nesta could muster in return was some pitiful sound of need and an almost negligible roll of her hips. It was enough.

His hips rocked back and forth in the same slow, tortuous rhythm. Usually, it would have Nesta writhing, demanding a faster pace that was more a means to an end. In contrast, they moved lazily in the darkest hours of the morning, content to fill the space with shuddered breaths and a firm grip on each other.

Cassian groaned, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating along Nesta’s back. Into her neck, he whispered, “So close.”

The urgency alone sent a zing of pleasure straight to her core, but she wasn’t quite ready to topple over the edge. As if he could sense her need, Cassian dragged his hand away from her jaw and down her body. His fingers found her clit expertly and drew slow, rhythmic circles that matched the pace of his thrusts.

Pleasure tore through her, causing Nesta to fist the sheet near her head. The other clutched Cassian’s pillow to her face to stifle her moans, and his lingering scent added to the thrumming in her blood as she approached release.

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Let go for me.”

Nesta tumbled, headfirst and breathless, through her orgasm. Her back arched, and her knuckles ached from trying to keep herself together through her grip on Cassian’s bed linens.

He stroked her slowly through his last several thrusts; moaned his praise, her name, and a litany of nonsense sounds against her neck. When his hips stilled, neither of them moved for several moments to catch their breaths.

Cassian kept grounding pressure against Nesta’s clit as he pulled out of her and slid his fingers down to do the same at her opening to combat the feeling of emptiness. She appreciated the gesture. Nothing ruined a moment more than a too-swift separation.

Her body shuddered in the aftershocks of her pleasure, and Cassian pulled her tightly against him to weather it. Nesta wondered what his limits were in terms of weathering her storms. She hadn’t yet seen any indications that he had them.

“Sleep, Sweetheart,” he ordered, his voice firm and heartbreakingly gentle somehow.

It was the last thing Nesta heard before she dozed off.

—

Somehow, Cassian had known to slip out of bed before Nesta could properly freak out over sleeping through the night. She regretted his too cool side of the bed, but his absence was better all around. They’d crossed significant boundaries the night before and couldn’t afford to add morning cuddles to that list, for the gods’ sakes.

Nesta padded to her room on silent feet, grateful that she had managed to wake up early enough to complete her morning routine. She showered efficiently, dressed, and dried her hair. With a few strategically placed pins, she pulled it into a top knot and made her way to the kitchen.

The smell of coffee nearly made her moan, but she fought against it. Her roommate was already too familiar with those sounds, and she wasn’t keen to give him additional ammo.

She ignored where he leaned backward against the counter, his hand bracing his weight and the other bringing a steaming mug up to his mouth. His pants pulled tight over his toned thighs, and Nesta couldn’t resist a quick glance upward to the exposed skin over the loose button of his white shirt. Perhaps she hadn’t successfully ignored him to the degree she intended, but she kept her eyes trained on her task. That had to count for something.

“You wouldn’t have happened to see my phone, would you?” she asked, pouring her coffee too slowly into her mug.

“It was on the entry way table. I plugged it in for you about an hour ago.”

His voice held the rasp of early morning, and Nesta tried not to let if affect her. Her track record wasn’t on her side.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” he replied, then drained his coffee and placed his mug in the sink. “I’ll be late tonight. We have a meeting with your firm after hours. Azriel will run point until I get back later.”

Nesta froze. “Meeting? Is something wrong? Is Az running surveillance, too?”

Cassian smiled, but it was reassuring as opposed to his usual smirk. “Just an update on how things have been so far, especially since we recommended a relocation a couple of weeks ago. While Azriel runs point, he’ll have Cerridwen and Nuala doing surveillance.”

“Okay. Sounds like a plan.” She’d been trying for cool and collected, but the change in Cassian’s posture didn’t give her much confidence that she succeeded.

“You’ll be in good hands,” he promised, crossing the room to grab her phone from the charger. “On the plus side, Azriel is much quieter than me.”

Nesta snatched the phone from his hand. “Thank the Mother for that.” She failed to hide her amusement behind the words, but Cassian didn’t call her on it.

“Let’s get you to work. You have everything?”

Nesta doublechecked her leather bag and pulled the charger from the wall. Her phone would need another boost mid-day without a full charge. She rapidly checked her various notifications for anything time sensitive and stopped short on her calls.

“Did you add yourself to my favorites list?”

Cassian slung his bag over his shoulder. “Never,” he teased, throwing in a wink to twist the knife once more. “Okay, yeah, but I added Azriel, too. It seemed like a good idea.”

“No, you’re right.” She couldn’t believe she admitted that so readily. “It was empty anyway.”

He didn’t say anything, and the silence felt loaded somehow. Her threshold for the awkwardness was at an all-time low, so she squared her shoulders and made her way out the front door. At the very least, she knew work wasn’t going anywhere.

—

Her days seemed to stretch longer and longer. She and Cassian had danced around each other for hours until Azriel relieved him to prep for his meeting, and Nesta thanked the gods for once that her day had been almost unbearably busy. The fewer quiet moments with Cassian, the better.

Despite that fact, his absence was an almost tangible thing on the way to the safe house with Azriel. He was markedly quieter than his counterpart, and it was a trait that Nesta usually preferred in her company.

Except when her company was a cocky, smart-mouthed bodyguard with a savior complex. Apparently.

She scrolled through her calendar during the drive, her eyes snagging on an appointment she’d added only an hour before. As if he possessed a sixth sense for secrets, Azriel chuckled next to her.

“Wondering how you’re going to break the news of lunch with Vanserra to Cass?

Nesta scowled. “Do we have reason to suspect Lucien is dangerous?”

Azriel released a heavy breath. “No. Aside from his relation to the defendant, anyway.”

“Then there’s nothing to tell beyond informing him of the appointment. Lucien is the one who risks a lot by meeting me.”

Azriel pulled into the driveway and shifted the SUV to Park. “True. Want me to look into it? See what I can find out?”

“Yeah, sure. Thank you, Azriel.”

“Don’t mention it.”

They met at the front of the vehicle so that Azriel could shadow Nesta per protocol. Sometimes it was easy to forget what was actually part of her protection and what could be reduced to Cassian being a mother hen. The time with Azriel would be useful in that regard.

He stepped ahead of her to make a preliminary sweep of the safe house, and as excessive as it felt, Nesta knew complacency was the most dangerous place of all. She had to appreciate the thoroughness and dedication in ensuring her safety.

Once Azriel deemed everything clear, Nesta went to her room to change into a sweater and joggers. Her next stop was the kitchen, where she gathered a bottle of wine, various cheeses, and some crackers. Her week had more than earned her a few glasses.

Placing the various items on the coffee table, she got to work on uncorking the wine. It was only seconds before Az glanced over from his spot on the couch.

“What are you doing?”

Nesta blinked at him. His eyes were remarkably similar to Cassian’s in color. “Having a glass of wine. Want one?”

“Can’t,” Az said, standing up smoothly and taking the bottle gently from her grasp. “I’m on duty.”

“Shit, of course. Sorry.”

A smile teased the corner of Azriel’s full mouth, but she got the distinct impression that he’d be horrified to know it.

“Where is this wine from?”

He rotated the bottle in his large hands to scan the label. Nesta thought for several seconds before the answer dawned on her.

“I brought a couple from my apartment— the night we relocated here.”

Az grunted, the sound noncommittal.

“Are you going to open it for me or just stare at it?” Nesta challenged.

His eyes glimmered at the tone of her voice, another trait he shared with his partner. “I’ll open it, but I’m going to test it first. Make sure it hadn’t been tampered with.”

He made his way to the kitchen area without awaiting her response. She stared at his retreating back until she snapped into action and followed.

“Test it for what? It’s mine,” she argued, ignoring the way she felt like a child for her word choice. “And it’s an excellent vintage.”

Azriel huffed a laugh and pulled whatever he needed from his bag. “I don’t doubt your taste, Nesta.”

“Okay, so—”

“We’re here because of suspicious activity around your place. You would be surprised how easy it would be to compromise this bottle of wine. I’m being cautious.”

His words were quiet, final. He turned his back to her while he worked, and Nesta busied herself making a pot of coffee for him. He often carried a cup on him no matter the time of day, so it felt like a safe assumption.

By the time it finished brewing, Azriel turned to her with a poured glass of wine. “All good.”

“Thanks,” Nesta said, albeit begrudgingly.

The pair traveled to the living area and settled into their respective places. Nesta sprawled across a loveseat and propped her feet up over the cushions while Az sat in an oversized armchair nearby. He thanked her for the coffee and lost himself in whatever task held his attention hostage on his laptop.

Nesta alternated between snacking, taking long pulls of wine, and answering game show questions aloud. She hadn’t meant to disrupt Azriel’s work, rather that she was used to watching game shows alone than with such stoic company. He looked unbothered, so ultimately, it felt the same as usual.

During a commercial break, she grabbed another bottle of wine from the kitchen. Standing up so suddenly had her a bit light-headed, but upon further thought, it could have very well been the wine paired with minimal dinner. She shoved the thought away with the vigor that she shoved the unopened bottle toward Azriel’s head.

“Can I help you?” he drawled, glancing up from his screen.

“You said you have to do the thing.” She replied, gesturing lazily at the bottle with her free hand. “I figured your caution applies to this one, too.”

“You would be correct.” He stood, snatching the bottle away from her and nodding toward the loveseat. “Get settled. I’ll be back.”

Nesta did as instructed and thought Cassian would be shocked off his ass to see how well she played with others. Maybe she could convince Az to tell him how delightful she was as a charge. It was about time he knew.

Azriel returned with the bottle and poured some into Nesta’s empty glass. Her focus had been on her own feet and how turning them out let the light from the window shine across her face. When she brought them back together, they served to keep the sun out of her eyes. That would be useful information as the sun set, she decided.

With a mildly uncoordinated hand, she grabbed her wine glass and some cheese from the table. The next couple of questions on the game show stumped her, and she had made peace with not knowing the answers until Azriel’s gruff voice answered the last one in her stead.

Nesta rolled her head to the side to fix her gaze on his face, still looking at his laptop and his brow furrowed in concentration. “Know it all,” she spat.

“You have no idea,” he replied, his tone teasing. “Think of how many I’ve answered in my head.”

She gaped at him and marveled at such a glimpse into his sense of humor. Admittedly, she’d assumed he had little to speak of in that regard. In the silence, she regarded him in a new light, and a certain fondness warmed for skin. It was promptly squashed in favor of jealously as she studied his infuriating bone structure.

“Has anyone ever told you that you're beautiful?" She hadn’t meant to say that, but what was done was done. She wanted to know.

Azriel leaned forward to grab his coffee mug from the table and took a slow sip. "Yes, actually."

Nesta barked a laugh at his candor. "Well, you are. Objectively speaking."

"Objectively." She swore the smallest twitch of Azriel's mouth exposed his amusement. "Now, I'm curious. What's this objective criteria include? Symmetry? Cheekbones? Jawline?"

The question was posed as if she was to make a choice, but the only answer that came to her was, "Yes."

Azriel let out a laugh of his own, and it transformed his face. Nesta wondered if she and Az could actually get along, booze aside. They seemed like they could.

“Maybe you should eat more.”

Nesta frowned. “I’m not drunk. I was making an observation.”

“An objective one,” he deadpanned, his eyes gleaming.

“Fine,” she muttered, gracelessly grabbing at a handful of snacks and turning her attention back to the TV.

She had just poured a fresh glass when she heard the keypad beeping at the front door. Without thinking, she lifted her hand in the air and gave Cassian a wobbly wave before dropping it heavily back to her chest.

His rough chuckle felt like callused fingers over her soft skin and harsh breaths against her neck. A shiver ran up her spine, but she wasn’t sure how successful she was in hiding it.

“This looks like fun,” he teased, walking around the couch and gazing down at Nesta. He bent at the waist to grab a cube of cheese and popped it into his mouth. “Did you two even miss me?”

“Meh.” Nesta failed in curbing her smile, but Cassian didn’t call her in it. Instead, he turned to address Az who was busy closing his laptop.

“Everything went smoothly?”

“Yep. We haven’t really done much other than this since we got in.”

Nesta swung her legs over the side of the couch to sit up and had to steady herself with a hand against the cushion. “Everything is fine, sir. I cooperated, and I even made Azriel coffee.”

Cassian’s eyes bounced from Nesta, to the table, and back to Azriel. “Is she drunk?”

“Getting there, I think. I encouraged her to eat a bit more.”

“Mm.”

Cassian’s gaze seemed stormier than before, but Nesta’s eyes were taking a bit longer to blink than usual. It was possible she’d imagined it.

Azriel’s tone seemed as though he agreed, though. “What’s with you? If you’re wondering, yes, I tested the damn wine before she had any.”

Cassian blinked. “I know. That’s not—“ He trailed off, pinching his nose between his thumb forefinger.

Nesta sprang to her feet, annoyed with how they discussed her like she wasn’t in the room. Like an afterthought. Just as quickly as she stood, her ass hit the cushion again. The room spun a little, so she took a steadying breath.

“I’m right here, you know.” Were her words slurring? Or was it her hearing that was a little too slow? She wasn’t sure. “Stop talking about me like I’m not around.”

Her stomach lurched. She squeezed her eyes shut against the sudden nausea and didn’t open them again until she heard the soft creak of the coffee table. With a some tense words and a hushed goodbye to Azriel, Cassian lowered himself to sit atop the wood and placed his hand on her knee.

“How many have you had?” he murmured.

Nesta swallowed the lump in her throat. “A solid amount.”

“I figured,” Cassian said through a laugh.

“Hey, wait!” Nesta’s eyes snapped to his face, suddenly curious. “How was your meeting?”

His eyes crinkled at the corners. Despite the similar coloring she’d noticed in Azriel’s earlier, Cassian’s amusement made his eyes a wholly different experience. They travelled over her in assessment, but his characteristic warmth shined through.

Straight to her bloodstream.

“It was fine; longer than necessary.”

“What was?” At Cassian’s incredulous expression, she remembered her previous question. “Right— the meeting.”

He hummed his agreement, and Nesta wondered how he managed to lace affection into a simple sound.

“Alright, you,” he said, slapping his thighs. “Time for bed.”

Nesta leaned sideways into the cushions and groaned. “Too much to do. I should check my email one more time and clean this up.” She let out another unimpressed grunt. “And I haven’t showered yet.”

Cassian stood up and gathered her empty glass and snacks. “This is done. I’ll put it in the sink and get to it later. Your email can wait until tomorrow.”

Nesta whined. “They’ve been coming in nonstop lately. I like to get a head start.”

“Maybe you should have done that before you cleared a bottle and a half of wine.” His voice was distant, as if he’d moved toward the kitchen, and Nesta regretted the loss of his body heat. She’d never say so, even if she was loose lipped enough to be tempted.

Her eyes were impossibly heavy. She struggled back into a seated position and cradled her head in her hands, massaging her temples with her thumbs.

“The shower can wait until tomorrow morning, too.”

Nesta glanced up at him, horrified. “I don’t get in my bed without showering.”

“You’re being a brat.” His smirk was back, and she was exhausted enough to admit to herself that she’d missed it.

“No, I’m not,” she insisted. “I can’t sleep if I’m not clean. I don’t have to wash my hair since I did that this morning.”

Cassian released an aggrieved sigh, but it lacked any bite. He unbuttoned the sleeves of his shirt and rolled them to the elbows, effectively capturing Nesta’s attention. Even if it was pitiful by comparison to her usual focus.

He lifted his brows in challenge. “Hop to it, Archeron. The longer you sit there, the longer it takes to get to bed.”

Nesta let out a sound somewhere between a grumble and a growl. Before she could push off the couch cushion, she noticed Cassian’s outstretched hand and dropped her palm heavily into his. He pulled her into a standing position and steadied her, chuckling at her expense as if she couldn’t hear him.

Rather than encourage anymore teasing, Nesta focused her efforts on walking a straight line toward her ensuite bathroom. Most of her motivation boiled down to proving she didn’t need Cassian’s steadying weight next to her, no matter how much she wanted to lean into it. Either she proved nothing, making her efforts pointless, or he read her mind and stayed close without a word.

She stripped her clothes into a pile on the floor and turned on the shower, barely pausing to let it warm up before she got inside. Cassian pulled a towel from her cabinet and hanged it over the glass door before making his way for the door.

“You’re not staying?”

His deep voice echoed in the small room. “I can if you want,” he offered, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. “I didn’t want to be a creep.”

Nesta snapped her head in his direction, her brows pulled together. “Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

A spark of heat flared in Cassian’s eyes, but he smothered it quickly, leaving only his infuriating smile in its wake. “True, but it feels a little different when you drank your weight in wine tonight.”

She ignored his jest and rinsed off her body, reaching sloppily for her face wash. She scrubbed her make-up and the day away and killed the water, blinking against the heaviness of her eyelids to find Cassian on the other side of the glass with her towel in hand.

Nesta wrapped her arms around herself before stepping into the colder air, and the warm towel came around her shoulders immediately. His hands pressed it into her skin, rubbing back and forth gently enough as to not shift her body around. Her eyes slid shut, and she made no moves to fight them open again. Instead, she leaned forward and pressed her forehead to the space below his collarbone. Tension left her shoulders with her weight resting against his chest, and Nesta wondered if she could actually doze off under his care. It felt possible.

Cassian’s voice pulled her rudely into full consciousness. “You take it from here,” he instructed, slowly pressing her body away from his. “I’ll get you something to sleep in.”

Nesta gave herself the most crude dry-off in recent memory, only managing to lose her balance a couple of times. Small mercies came in the form of the nearby countertop that repeatedly supported her at the hip with each sway. Cassian re-entered the room and held out her night clothes, and Nesta found that she was disappointed to be offered her own clothing. Such a stupid, fruitless thought, but she’d hoped for an oversized t-shirt that belonged to her bodyguard instead.

She snatched her clothes from his hand and put them on with impressive grace, if she said so herself. Before she could stalk to her bed, Cassian’s hands— steady and intoxicatingly strong— gripped her waist. The touch disoriented her, but it was gone as swiftly as it came. Nesta blinked, his motive taking longer than usual to reveal itself.

He had turned her so that her lower back was propped against the countertop near the sink. His fingers made her toothbrush look almost tiny, and a giggle bubbled out of her without warning. Cassian’s perceptive gaze slide her way, but he finished squeezing toothpaste onto her too-small toothbrush and passed it her way.

“Brush, Giggle Box,” he ordered, amusement dancing all over his handsome face.

His handsome, dangerous face.

Nesta complied, ignoring that it was hardly the best she’d ever done. She paused when a thought, nauseating and unwelcome, occurred to her.

“You know,” she began around a mouth of full of toothpaste, “this goes beyond your job description.”

Cassian glanced at her, unimpressed. “Hardly. It’s a bad look if you drown in the shower on my watch.”

Nesta brushed a few additional strokes and paused again, her gaze fixed on the wall ahead. “This whole thing feels excessive; you guarding me all the time. Azriel on standby. At the end of the day, the world would keep turning regardless.”

“What do you mean?” All signs of amusement left his face, replaced by confusion or concern. Nesta was too tired to decide which.

“Well, you know.” She gestured with her hand and brushed a bit more. “I work around the clock, so my family would hardly notice if something happened. Same with my friends. As far as work goes, someone else on the team would step in to lead the Vanserra case if needed.”

He was quiet for a beat. “Well, I would notice.”

“Yeah, but you get paid to care.”

She twisted around to spit into the sink and rinse her toothbrush. A bit of of shame crept into the back of her mind, but she didn’t give it much of a thought. Processing it was the job of her subconscious once she fell asleep. As she straightened again, Cassian pinched her chin between his thumb and forefinger and angled her face toward his. The expression he wore was familiar, yet different somehow, and Nesta felt the intensity of his stare to the tips of her toes.

His words were firm, each with an intentionality that made Nesta want to crawl into herself. “I do not get paid to care for you.” A beat passed, then, “Understood?”

Nesta cleared her throat as he released her. “Yeah,” she lied.

Although, in her less inhibited state, it felt less like a lie and more like a hard truth she’d been suppressing since the first time they had crossed the professional bounds of their relationship. She had been clawing at those invisible boundaries for weeks, trying to rein them in and fix them back into place, but it seemed that it only served to make them more evasive.

“Good,” he murmured, his tone held together by secrets and good intentions. “Let’s get you in bed, then.”

He stepped in front of her, caging her in at the counter before she could step away. Nesta tilted her chin up in invitation, but he made no moves to accept the offer. His hands moved to her hair, removing pins strategically until it tumbled down around her shoulders. His smile was mesmerizing up close. She almost told him so, but he pulled away and nodded his chin toward the open door.

She climbed into bed, hissing at the cool sheets until her body heat made them more comfortable. Cassian pulled the blankets around her shoulders and left her room, presumably to get ready for bed himself. For half a second she wondered if he planned to join her, but sleep pulled her under before she could find out.

—

A blinding throb invaded Nesta’s sleep some time in the middle of the night. The room was dark, and Nesta didn’t dare chance looking at her too-bright phone screen for an exact time. She had her alarms set to repeat each week, so she decided to ignore the time in favor of finding water.

She eased to a standing position and padded to the kitchen, cursing her poor judgment in the amount of wine to drink on a week night. She held a small glass under the tap, downed the water in two gulps, and filled it again before trudging back toward her room.

Cassian’s door was open as usual, and Nesta risked a glance inside. Her vision cleared enough to see the impression of his hulking form beneath his comforter, and an odd sensation of embarrassment climbed up her spine. It usually meant she said things she shouldn’t have, whether it be lethal or overtly personal. Squeezing her eyes shut, she rattled her brain for any recollection of the hours before and getting only snapshots of her evening. Maybe things would be clear with a couple more hours of sleep.

She shook it off and continued toward her bedroom. Another bolt of shame slammed into her brutally as she crossed the threshold, sending a rush of blood to her cheeks. Moments of Cassian walking her toward her bedroom, drying her with a towel, and getting her sleep clothes. Putting her toothpaste on her toothbrush, for the gods’ sakes.

Lowering herself to the edge of her mattress, she placed her water glass on the bedside table only to find one already waiting. Two pain relievers sat nearby, and she cursed internally at the shit show she must have been.

She dropped her head into her hands and pressed against her eyes in frustration. His words traveled through her like lightning, and another rush of heat glided through her blood.

I do not get paid to care for you.

With a sharp intake of breath, Nesta dropped her hands and stared into the dark of the room. She resented the way she needed the medication to reduce the pounding in her head, just as he’d anticipated. Tossing them into her mouth, she gulped down the rest of her water and slid her legs under the blankets.

She eased down to her pillow, but sleep wasn’t a viable option. She’d made a fool of herself in trying to drink away her stress between work and the distraction of her bodyguard, only to pile it on by treating him like a glorified nanny.

She grabbed her phone, grimacing against the bright light. Sleep wasn’t going to happen, so she could at least get a head start on emails.

And maybe draft a plan for damage control.

——————————————————————————

Prompts used:

"Swear to me this meant nothing to you." "How many of these have you had?" (Exact wording adjusted to fit context)

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#nessian #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar fanfic #nessian bodyguard au #nessian au #something anything #twsd fics #twsd writes

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