Finally, maybe?, Cass sensed that they may be making progress. The blatant hostility he felt emitting from her like waves of heat seemed to simmer down, anyway. The darkness in her eyes somewhat lifted, especially when she seemed to focus on the questions he asked. Enough to remind him then, maybe a little, what he so appreciated about Juniper from the last summer besides her razor-sharp wit. The young lady was quite pretty, when her expression mixed with something besides dour.
As soon as he’d grasped it of course, the moment disappeared. His name on her lips felt like it might disintegrate to acid, and he smirked at her frustration, even as her smile grew fake-wider. “Flint Institute to stave off a life of boredom as a debutante,” he assessed casually, bringing her around in a requisite spin for the dance. “An excellent move for a lady with such unsung ability.” Complimenting her approach to staving off society life she felt so suffocating, on one hand, but the subtext implied something else and perhaps she’d pick up on it. A gentle taunt that he now knew precisely where she’d be spending her time, should he need to find her.
Not that he’d have reason to. Probably.
Though they shared some things in common after all, his smile turned a touch apologetic. His eyes wandered away from their dance briefly, clocking the way her father watched them like a hawk. Juniper would be foolish to try anything here, no matter how angry he made her, and they both knew it. “We’re all hostages in our own way,” he relented. Briefly his mind flickered to Vincent. He didn’t wish to dwell on dissecting why.
Blessedly (and this was a strange word to use in reference to Juniper fucking Edevane), the young woman drew his attention away from the painful back to the current. The compliment felt laced with something he couldn’t put a finger on – ah, there it is. A backhand.
“Pied Piper, hm?” he huffed a laugh, impassively playing off a remark that, in truth, stung. It tugged on his responsibility to his family, to his father’s memory. It twisted at his subconscious, which knew his upward trajectory wasn’t all that squeaky clean. It made him question if he made the right call on where to station his men and keep them alive. This was more impressive than he’d give her credit for– that she found a nerve, after all her nicks and scratches. “What’s your evidence, to make such an insult on my integrity?” he plowed through with a smile. If she wanted to bitch about what happened, he was going to make her relieve the excruciating detail.
As soon as he’d grasped it of course, the moment disappeared. His name on her lips felt like it might disintegrate to acid, and he smirked at her frustration, even as her smile grew fake-wider. “Flint Institute to stave off a life of boredom as a debutante,” he assessed casually, bringing her around in a requisite spin for the dance. “An excellent move for a lady with such unsung ability.” Complimenting her approach to staving off society life she felt so suffocating, on one hand, but the subtext implied something else and perhaps she’d pick up on it. A gentle taunt that he now knew precisely where she’d be spending her time, should he need to find her.
Not that he’d have reason to. Probably.
Though they shared some things in common after all, his smile turned a touch apologetic. His eyes wandered away from their dance briefly, clocking the way her father watched them like a hawk. Juniper would be foolish to try anything here, no matter how angry he made her, and they both knew it. “We’re all hostages in our own way,” he relented. Briefly his mind flickered to Vincent. He didn’t wish to dwell on dissecting why.
Blessedly (and this was a strange word to use in reference to Juniper fucking Edevane), the young woman drew his attention away from the painful back to the current. The compliment felt laced with something he couldn’t put a finger on – ah, there it is. A backhand.
“Pied Piper, hm?” he huffed a laugh, impassively playing off a remark that, in truth, stung. It tugged on his responsibility to his family, to his father’s memory. It twisted at his subconscious, which knew his upward trajectory wasn’t all that squeaky clean. It made him question if he made the right call on where to station his men and keep them alive. This was more impressive than he’d give her credit for– that she found a nerve, after all her nicks and scratches. “What’s your evidence, to make such an insult on my integrity?” he plowed through with a smile. If she wanted to bitch about what happened, he was going to make her relieve the excruciating detail.
![[Image: BC4TW0z.jpeg]](https://i.imgur.com/BC4TW0z.jpeg)
eyecandy by fox<3