Though utterly inarticulate, Cassian had a keen observational eye. Noticing, for example, how the muscle of Vincent’s jaw twitched, or the way he dug his nails into crossed arms. It seemed as though he’d braced himself for this conversation. Silent for long enough that it got Cass thinking that he was considering his ill-formed “proposal” to stay through his visit. For a second.
In this big blonde’s bullheaded ways, never once did he consider that perhaps this experience had also been difficult for Vince. But he should have seen it sooner: how the Slytherin didn’t budge from his place nearer to the door than the desk, demonstrating just how close to intolerable their encounter was. At what he said last, Cassian clocked an imperceptible shift in the current of their conversation, in the way those green eyes darkened at what he said.
Shit. What did he just say? Move past it, he realized, Vince echoing that exact sentiment aloud a moment later.
At the first round of verbal lashing, Cassian could hardly do more than sit in stunned blank silence. Though his mouth opened slightly, no words came, as every last poisonous word cut into him. What Vince said was true after all. What could he possibly say in response?
Yet as the other went savagely on, Cass felt a fury building inside him. Stop, he willed the other, get off these tracks. But what good was it to even say as much? He could hear, from the turbulence of Vincent’s hiss, that he was too far past the point of no return. Reflexively, he wanted to defend himself. Even as he knew that a parry like this was a losing fight.
No moving past this - not for you.
“You’re wrong,” he interrupted, because you have to be wrong. “If you know me so well,” he added with a vicious snarl he could not help, for the poison already started to seep in, “Then you should have known it would turn out this way. If you knew what this would do–” to us. “Then why? If you were so sure I couldn’t change… why did you?” Sentences were coming out less and less complete, though Cassian raised his voice with them anyway, because he too was desperate for answers. Blue eyes darkened, his body shaking with a sense of grief he hadn’t felt since his father’s death. It arrived with his understanding, however superficial, of how hurtful that must have felt for Vince. To feel cast aside. So the full truth was coming out. It felt like a sickeningly appropriate way for the damned to lament their loss of friendship.
“Nothing about what happened was normal. This mistake. It can never be taken back,” he veritably spat, pleased, at least, that Vincent stayed around long enough to see the extent to which his words could make someone else suffer. “And now everything has changed. So I’m sorry,” for everything– “That I needed time. That at first I couldn’t… handle… looking at you. At anyone. But I’m trying…” To survive this grief. To find a way out of this hell. “To find a way to live with this. To see if I can.” We can. Please. “What… What the hell else do you need me to say? Tell me, and I’ll say it,” At last, Cassian sprang up from his seat, the ball of fire in his chest expanding rapidly. Already it felt untenable, and he planted his hands firmly on the desk to suck in a deep breath. With every ounce of self control he still possessed, he willed a surge of rage back down his throat, though he did not succeed.
“Fuck!” the young man finally broke. Without warning he swiped the cup of tea from his desk and hurled it, still filled with liquid, to shatter to a million pieces against the wall. He could kill Vincent, he sensed in his bones that he really could. But touching the other one again… That’s where Cass firmly drew the line. It was both of them, after all, who were responsible. Where Vincent started it, Cassian ended it. When Vince kissed him, he pulled the other on top. When they rolled over, he was the one who kissed Vince first. Cass remembers he said.. Such careless things to him. Which led to them doing such an unimaginable, disgusting thing. It’s true that Vince may have been the one to guide them there, but oh, how Cassian followed. Unconditionally.
This resolution kept the Gryffindor behind the desk, though he’d started stalking back and forth behind it like a predator, pacing with furious energy, sucking down his cigarette like water. I won’t sit around watching you grow to despise me for it. “God damn it but I’m trying, Vince,” wanting to beg him, but so focused on trying to contain the way his body twitched. I couldn’t despise you even if I tried. If I despise you, I despise myself. “Trying to accept you for everything you are. You don’t get to decide whether or not I do.”
In this big blonde’s bullheaded ways, never once did he consider that perhaps this experience had also been difficult for Vince. But he should have seen it sooner: how the Slytherin didn’t budge from his place nearer to the door than the desk, demonstrating just how close to intolerable their encounter was. At what he said last, Cassian clocked an imperceptible shift in the current of their conversation, in the way those green eyes darkened at what he said.
Shit. What did he just say? Move past it, he realized, Vince echoing that exact sentiment aloud a moment later.
At the first round of verbal lashing, Cassian could hardly do more than sit in stunned blank silence. Though his mouth opened slightly, no words came, as every last poisonous word cut into him. What Vince said was true after all. What could he possibly say in response?
Yet as the other went savagely on, Cass felt a fury building inside him. Stop, he willed the other, get off these tracks. But what good was it to even say as much? He could hear, from the turbulence of Vincent’s hiss, that he was too far past the point of no return. Reflexively, he wanted to defend himself. Even as he knew that a parry like this was a losing fight.
No moving past this - not for you.
“You’re wrong,” he interrupted, because you have to be wrong. “If you know me so well,” he added with a vicious snarl he could not help, for the poison already started to seep in, “Then you should have known it would turn out this way. If you knew what this would do–” to us. “Then why? If you were so sure I couldn’t change… why did you?” Sentences were coming out less and less complete, though Cassian raised his voice with them anyway, because he too was desperate for answers. Blue eyes darkened, his body shaking with a sense of grief he hadn’t felt since his father’s death. It arrived with his understanding, however superficial, of how hurtful that must have felt for Vince. To feel cast aside. So the full truth was coming out. It felt like a sickeningly appropriate way for the damned to lament their loss of friendship.
“Nothing about what happened was normal. This mistake. It can never be taken back,” he veritably spat, pleased, at least, that Vincent stayed around long enough to see the extent to which his words could make someone else suffer. “And now everything has changed. So I’m sorry,” for everything– “That I needed time. That at first I couldn’t… handle… looking at you. At anyone. But I’m trying…” To survive this grief. To find a way out of this hell. “To find a way to live with this. To see if I can.” We can. Please. “What… What the hell else do you need me to say? Tell me, and I’ll say it,” At last, Cassian sprang up from his seat, the ball of fire in his chest expanding rapidly. Already it felt untenable, and he planted his hands firmly on the desk to suck in a deep breath. With every ounce of self control he still possessed, he willed a surge of rage back down his throat, though he did not succeed.
“Fuck!” the young man finally broke. Without warning he swiped the cup of tea from his desk and hurled it, still filled with liquid, to shatter to a million pieces against the wall. He could kill Vincent, he sensed in his bones that he really could. But touching the other one again… That’s where Cass firmly drew the line. It was both of them, after all, who were responsible. Where Vincent started it, Cassian ended it. When Vince kissed him, he pulled the other on top. When they rolled over, he was the one who kissed Vince first. Cass remembers he said.. Such careless things to him. Which led to them doing such an unimaginable, disgusting thing. It’s true that Vince may have been the one to guide them there, but oh, how Cassian followed. Unconditionally.
This resolution kept the Gryffindor behind the desk, though he’d started stalking back and forth behind it like a predator, pacing with furious energy, sucking down his cigarette like water. I won’t sit around watching you grow to despise me for it. “God damn it but I’m trying, Vince,” wanting to beg him, but so focused on trying to contain the way his body twitched. I couldn’t despise you even if I tried. If I despise you, I despise myself. “Trying to accept you for everything you are. You don’t get to decide whether or not I do.”
![[Image: BC4TW0z.jpeg]](https://i.imgur.com/BC4TW0z.jpeg)
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