A/N: Cassie/Adrien Edit in the Sidebar!
“Please, Cassie. I’m so sorry,” Adrien breathed, His usually deep voice broken and fading.
“Why... Why did you do it?” I whispered. The emotional trauma from the last week was too much. I couldn’t handle it anymore and the tears that I’d held in were finally breaking free.
“I-... I honestly don’t know... I don’t think I knew how to love you... I still don’t. You’re so strong and willful. You never do as you’re told and I guess- I guess I just thought that I’d lose you to someone better... I guess I have now though,” He laughed, hysterically raking His fingers across close cropped blonde hair, “I hate myself every day for what I did to you... what I’m still doing. I-I don’t expect you to ever forgive me. I just need you to know how sorry I am.”
I didn’t know what to say. What can you do when everything you know suddenly crashes down around you? What can you do when the monster you loved repents and the Angel that saved you transforms into your tormenter?
Cassie’s POV:
I sat there, staring at the rapidly cooling drink in my hands.
“Please, Cass, say something... anything.” I jerked away when, suddenly, His hand came up to cup my cheek.
“Don’t. You don’t get to touch me. You never get to fucking touch me,” I hissed, glaring at Him as hot tears streaked continuously down my cheeks. Before, I would have never spoken to Him like that. I would have been scared shitless just knowing that there would be a nightmarish flower blooming under my skin for every cross word spoken, but I’d had enough.
I was so damn tired of crying. Tired of crying over bruised flesh and broken bones. Tired of crying over the terrors that woke me up every night. I was tired of crying over Harry, and I most certainly was tired of crying over Adrien.
He sat back on his heels, golden eyes somber as I struggled to staunch the steady flow of tears. God, why had I agreed to come here in the first place? Why had I agreed to stay?
The smiling couple taunted me. The girl’s bright eyes laughing maniacally in my face, the boy’s possessive posture and loving gaze a steady reminder of what I’d lost...
A small but irritating voice in my subconscious kept talking to me, whispering that I could have it all back. Adrien had been that for me once. Harry had been that for me a couple of very long days ago. Maybe the thing that kept screwing everything up didn’t have anything to do with the guys at all. Maybe it had everything to do with me. I was the only link between the two, I was the thing that kept fucking everything up.
“Christ,” I sobbed, clutching my heart as the ache there grew with my sudden realization. I couldn’t choke back the sobs anymore. They were in full force.
It was me.
I was the reason that everything kept falling apart.
I was the only link between my past and present.
It was all me.
“Cassie, please,” Adrien’s voice sounded so far away, “Please, Sweetheart, just please breathe,” He pleaded, leaning forward, His massive hands resting on either side of me on the couch. I didn’t have the strength or the energy to push him away. I knew that I should’ve, I just couldn’t.
I was so tired of fighting. Whatever happened to happily ever afters? Why couldn’t I just have mine already? Hadn’t I been through enough? Was a happy ending really so much to ask?
I’d been so close, so fucking close twice now, and both times it managed to slip away.
Dense, forest eyes melted into the honey ones staring back at me and I fought to blink away the illusion of the curly haired boy that had mended so many of the cracks and fractures spiderwebbing across my heart. Full perfect lips, a strong chiseled jaw line and dimples so deep and prominent, puncturing each cheek swam into my tear clouded vision.
I wanted him back, Christ, I needed him back. He helped me breathe when I thought that my lungs would collapse from all of the secrets weighing me down. He helped me think when the world threatened to overwhelm me. He helped me feel when I wanted nothing more than to go numb.
He was a drug to me; not lethal and destructive, but equally as addictive. I needed him more than I’d ever needed anyone else. I needed to hear his sarcastic laugh as he called me “Angel” that first night. I needed to see his spellbinding fox smile as he picked me up and threw me into the tank at the aquarium. I needed to feel his gentle touch as it slipped up and down my spine each night as we laid in bed. I needed to run my hands through his curls and hear the quiet moan that always slipped out when I tugged just slightly on the roots. I needed to feel his arms wrapped around me and hear him whisper that he’d always be there for me... but most of all, I needed to feel the passion and love that coursed between us when his lips touched mine.
“Cassandra,” I couldn’t focus on the voice. Everything hurt too much. Tears kept streaming down my cheeks. I’d given up on wiping them away a long time ago, there would only be more to take their place. Every time I blinked I saw heartbroken green eyes staring back at me from a painfully beautiful, angel’s face. His lips kept moving and even though I couldn’t hear his voice, I understood their message, “I’m sorry.”
“I-I’m s-so sorry,” I sobbed, clutching at my chest, pulling uselessly on the thick fleece. My heart felt like it was going to explode. I couldn’t breathe from the sheer pain of it. Each time I sucked in one gasping breath, stabbing pains echoed throughout my chest and I couldn’t help wishing that it was over... That everything would just end and I would be left in peace.
“Cassie, shhh, you have to breathe okay?” The familiar voice slipped in and a small part of my consciousness listened to it. It forced me to concentrate on pulling the air into my starving lungs. The tears still continued to fall and I was rapidly losing control again.
I didn’t react as strong arms suddenly wrapped around me, pulling me gently against a solid heat.
“Cass, I need you to listen to me, okay?” I shook my head. Why couldn’t everyone just leave me alone?
“Yes, Cassie. Listen to me,” Firm hands, clutched my face, forcing me to stare into the warm depths above me as tears continued to slide down my cheeks.
“Do you feel that?” The voice asked, gently taking my hand and pressing it against the solid heat. With a steady rhythm it pulsed up and down and the image of fresh air filling a set of lungs slipped into my mind.
“I need you to match my breathing, okay?” My sane half nodded and I struggled to force the air in and out of my lungs at a slower rate. Black and red flashed across my vision, my brain starving for oxygen.
"It's me... It's a-always me..." I sobbed, cowering against the warm form, comforted slightly as I was wrapped into a firm embrace.
"Shh, Sweetheart, shh. It was never you. It never could be."
"Y-yes it is. I-I'm so fucked up-" Why couldn't they understand? I ruined my relationship with Adrien, I was about to lose my scholarship and now Harry... "-I-I can't do anything right. Everything always falls apart."
"That's because people never know how truly amazing someone is and how happy they are when they're around them until they're gone... Myself included."
"You don't mean that," I whispered, burying my face into the security of the arms holding me close.
"Yes, yes I do. With all my heart," Adrien whispered, pressing warm, familiar lips to my forehead, "wait here."
"W-where are you going? What did I do?" I asked, the pain in my voice far more evident than I had hoped. My own vulnerability was betraying me.
"Sweetheart, you could never do anything wrong," He sighed, brushing a stray tendril of hair from my face, "I just think that we could both use a drink."
"Oh."
"I'll be right back, okay?" I nodded, never lifting my eyes from where they were glued to the thick carpet. My cheeks were flaming and I knew my eyes were red and puffy. I always looked like shit after I cried. I took advantage of the time I had while Adrien was in the kitchen to work on my breathing.
Back in high school some twisted health teacher had insisted that we needed to know the “full consequences” of having sex before we were ready. His way of informing us of these “consequences” had consisted of forcing an entire class of high school juniors to sit through an incredibly graphic birthing video complete with lamaze breathing techniques.
That’s why when Adrien came back a couple minutes later- two glasses full of glowing, amber liquid in hand- he took one look at my hunched over position, my chest rising in a deliberate, exaggerated rhythm, he laughed. He flat out laughed at me.
“How are the contractions, Miss Vale?” He chuckled, setting one glass on the table and taking a sip from the other, using his newly freed hand to rub soothing circles in between my shoulder blades.
“You’re such an ass,” I wheezed, raising my head slightly to glare at him, “I am having a panic attack and here you are, cracking jokes.”
“At least I’m consistent.” His smile was grim and I couldn’t help the sympathetic pang that resonated in my heart. I knew I shouldn’t feel bad. We hurt each other. It was our “thing”. Sure the most damage I’d ever been able to cause him was strictly emotional and even that was minor, but it still counted right? In practically every conflict both parties were at fault.
“I-I didn’t mean it that way,” I whispered, the guilt of insulting him when he’d only been trying to help cheer me up was already setting in.
“I know,” he sighed, smiling again but it still didn’t touch his eyes.
Taking a deep breath, I decided to try and at least alleviate some of the tension rapidly filling the room, “Scotch?” I laughed, sniffing the vicious drink. The scent alone reminded me of what wanted to badly to forget... along with the pain thoughts of him ensured.
“Gentlemen’s drink,” he grinned, gold eyes lighting for the first time since I’d started crying.
“Hmm, you’ve obviously been missing your doses,” I teased, downing half of the glass before taking a breathe. The strong drink lit a fire inside of me that rapidly spread throughout my entire body; it left me tingling in the tips of my toes.
“Woah, we haven’t even gotten you on the list for liver donation yet.”
“O positive right?” I grinned, quirking an eyebrow up at him as I downed the remaining contents of my glass.
“Yeah... why?”
“I think I just found myself a donor.”
“Doesn’t work that way. You’d need my consent.”
“After we finish this bottle I’ll have you on your knees, Wix,” I laughed, sauntering off into where Adrien had disappeared to earlier, what I had presumed to be the kitchen. I pretended not to hear His murmured confession as I turned to walk away.
“I’m already there.”
I knew that I should leave. Just being around Him again was hard. He was breaking down all of my poorly-constructed barriers. I kept having to remind myself that He wasn’t the same boy He’d been when we’d fallen in love what felt like millennia ago. He’d become twisted and abusive, unable to control his anger and jealousy. I’d been His punching bag. The girl He claimed to love and cherish above all else had been degraded to nothing but a broken and bruised outlet for His dark-side.
I knew that I should hate Him and I did, but at the same time part of me refused to let go. She was still the naive child that had fallen in love with Him the second she saw Him over a year and a half ago. She still believed that the kind hearted boy was still in there somewhere and that she could bring Him back.
I’d been to all of the mandatory phycologist sessions; I’d been analyzed, sympathized, and hypnotized and yet I still refused to let go.
Adrien was wrong. There was something wrong with me. Only the mentally ill could still love someone who’d transformed their reality into the nightmare that mine had become. I needed to be committed or at the very least medicated... maybe then one drug could eclipse the other.
“Fucking hell,” I groaned, scooping the bottle off the counter and raising the bottle to my lips. Alcohol would have to suffice for now. I finally understood why doctors used it in all of the old movies to placate those suffering from severe wounds; it dulled the pain.
“So,” I called, turning to head back into the den, “What are you doing here? Did you follow me?” I asked, taking yet another swig from the half empty bottle. I wasn’t sure how much had been in there to start but my head was starting to get a bit fuzzy and I needed answers.
“Follow you? Cass, you do realize that you’re in my apartment right?” he laughed, motioning for me to hand him the bottle. Grudgingly, I obliged.
“Noooooo, not the apartment you ass. London. Did you follow me to London?” He took his time, watching me for several moments over the lip of the bottle before answering.
“Yeah, I followed you-” I couldn’t suppress my surprise at his honest answer and he hurried to finish, “-I... I had to see you again, to apologize.”
“Well, that was one fan-fucking-tastic apology the other day when you practically bashed my skull in with a brick wall,” I quipped, yanking the bottle away from him, swallowing several times. The burn from the scotch was already beginning to fade.
“I... that was a mistake.”
“Adrien. You almost broke my wrist. Again.”
“What do you want me to say, Cassie?”
“How about you explain to me why the fuck you keep asking for my forgiveness and telling me you’ve changed when literally four days ago you tried to kill me while my boyfriend was in the other room!” I screamed, slamming the bottle of scotch down on the table, raking my fingers through my knotted hair.
“I was jealous, okay? Is that what you want me to say? I was fucking jealous. You never looked at me that way.”
“What way?”
“Like you loved him!” He roared, vise-like hands grasping onto my shoulders. I expected Him to shake me or to pick me up and throw me but something in His honey tinted eyes shifted and He let me go, hands falling limply to His sides, “I-I’m sorry.”
“You still don’t get it,” I whispered, wrapping my arms tight around my chest, “I did.”
“What?” He asked, a spark of hope lighting up in His dull eyes.
“I did look at you that way... once. You were just too busy being a pigheaded, jealous fool to notice.” I didn’t wait for His response, I picked the bottle up, downing several large mouthfuls before taking a breath.
“I’ll never be good enough for you,” He sighed, burying His head in His hands.
“It’s not a matter of being ‘good enough’ Adrien Wix, it’s the effort that counts. No one is ever ‘good enough’. We’re human, we fuck up and make mistakes.”
“I’ve made more than my fair share.”
“Yeah, well, join the fucking club. I’m making one right now.” I gritted my teeth, allowing the hot liquid to burn down my throat.
“What?”
“I know that I shouldn’t be here, you know I shouldn’t be here and yet here I am,” He still looked confused, “We aren’t good for each other, Aid. We never have been.”
“There’s a reason we can’t stay away from each other,” He breathed, leaning forward.
“A twisted need for deprecation and self-harm?” I snorted, tipping the bottle to my lips. The amber liquid was getting dangerously low and the room was beginning to spin around me.
“We need each other, Cassie.”
“Nooooooo,” I laughed, rolling my eyes, “I need another bottle of scotch, not you pretty boy. I prefer my bones unbroken.” I bit down on my bottom lip, ducking my head. Damn, I was a bitch when I was drunk.
“Another bottle, coming up,” He sighed, standing up from His spot on the sofa... wait, when had I let Him sit on the sofa? He was supposed to be sitting in the corner in timeout. Fuck, I always sucked at disciplinary punishment.
I finished off the rest of the bottle in one gulp, a set it as gently as I could on the coffee table. Every time I blinked the world seemed to have shifted a bit.
“Here you are,” I jumped at the sound of His voice, my eyes flying open, “How about we pace ourselves with this one?” He laughed, an easy grin twisting up the corners of His lips.
“I know mah limit,” I slurred, grabbing for the bottle that He proceeded to move out of reach.
“No, I don’t want your backwash in the new bottle,” He chided, handing me a glass instead.
“Shows wha yew know, alohol kills germs,” I sneered, downing the glass.
“Not the point,” He smiled before refilling my glass.
“Wha tyme is it?”
“Half past one.”
“Shitttt! I need to go homeee!” I jumped to my feet, wobbling before falling forward into a set of strong arms. I couldn’t stop the hysterical laughter, “That was close.”
“Come on,” He sighed, picking me up into His arms, “I think you’ve had enough, let’s get you to bed.”
“Home Jeeves!” I cheered, pointing to where I thought the front door was.
“No, you’re roommate would probably kill me if I brought you home like this,” He sighed, beginning to walk down what appeared to be a very long, dark hallway.
“Aideee,” I whispered, picking my head up to speak directly into His ear, “The floor tried to kiss me!”
“I’m sure.”
“It did! It said it wanted to kiss me! That’s why it rose up to meet me!” I giggled, the image of the floor swimming rapidly up towards my face filling my memory.
“Mhmm,” He hummed, pulling back a duvet and nestling me down into a large bed before turning to walk away.
“Wait!” I reached out and barely caught ahold of His wrist, “How did you know I have a roommate?” I asked, my eyes already beginning to drift shut.
“I just do.” To my alcohol impaired brain this must have seemed like a perfectly acceptable answer because I nodded and released His wrist.
“Adrien?” I called again as He turned to close the door behind Him, “Stay, please.”
A/N: Please Comment/Vote like crazy! Y'all have been so supportive and amazing lately! Strings made it into the top 300 in Teen Fiction and Fan Fiction!!!!!! That's more than I could ever have dreamed of! Y'all are the reason that I've been updating so much! Usually these chapers take weeks to write but I just haven't been able to stop writing lately!
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