Cassian couldn’t read minds - that realm of magic fell more in Vincent’s expertise, actually. Though he was observant, most of all when it came to noticing the most subtle of cues from the people he’s watched for most of his life. Though the former Slytherin’s mask was quite good, it was not infallible. So too were some of his past frustrations and gripes that quickly sprang to Cass’s mind when the gift was met with less-than-delight.

Although, he had a sense that this might happen. The thought left a lingering, conspiratorial smile as he watched those green eyes assess the monogram with the smallest hint of worry.

“You know, as a man who is so relentless in his ambitious pursuit of world domination,” Cassian’s tease adopted a playfully stern note, “You may have to grow accustomed to the idea that people ought to know your name. Something to think about?” He was being an aloof ass on purpose, but this is because he knew. How deep this wound ran, even long after it should be a scar by now. A conversation they have had so many times. Vince was not defined by what his father supposedly did. “This is your name, Vince… One to be proud of, and make people remember,” he reminded him gently.

Cassian relieved Vince of the box with the rest of the jewels then, placing it deftly on the desk while the other man moved closer. He didn’t back away, quite the opposite. The blonde leaned in, soaking in the scent of Vince’s cologne. Bold hands moved to close around to the cuff Vince extended, helping him withdraw the old cufflink while slipping on the new one. Today the metal chose silver, and the emerald flashed briefly in the room’s light.

“Watch,” he murmured, letting his mouth linger near Vince’s ear. His thumb covered the cufflink, and he rubbed hard at it in three swift circles, as though polishing off a scuff. When he moved his finger, it revealed how the cufflink bore Vincent’s monogram no longer - the hard angles of “V” and “I” turned into three, discreet bars across the surface like a handsome geometric pattern. Cass was a bit of an idiot, but not a complete one. In his mind, there were plenty of circumstances where it made perfect sense to be a bit more opaque about your identity. “It goes back and forth. Whatever you’d like. But you know the one I like.”

This moment – he wanted to hang on to it. Even as he internally grimaced at what Vince said about their meeting this evening (something he said on purpose, maybe, assuming he still had his suspicions. Knowing it would get out of Cassian the guilt-trip that it would). Only, the more he put it off – likely the worse the fallout would be. He could not take his friend’s intelligence for granted. So Cass moved to press a chaste kiss on Vince’s temple, because it was there, and because he wasn't sure if he'd be allowed to kiss him again. The man heaved a soft sigh against soft strawberry-blonde curls before pulling away, deciding to slowly let out some of the steam.

“Yes… this evening…” he repeated, voice a bit distant and hollow. “Ah, Vince. You can tell, can’t you. That I don’t have good news,” he was trying to be tentative. Honesty felt important. But Cass also wanted to offer a temporary reprieve, if he could– another sweet moment or two, where they could venture to ignore the inevitable fissure.

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