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bookstantrash · 9 months ago

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We have very different concepts of angst, but this is just a ✨ sprinkle ✨ compared to your usual stuff.

I love soft husband!Cassian taking care of his wife 🥺😭

Happy birthday @simpingfornestaarcheron!! Even if I can't remember for the love of god how old you're turning (you'll always be 24 turning 25 to me) I thought I'd give you some Nessian goodies for your special day.

I swear it's not really angst. it's mostly domestic fluff.

Love you, enjoy!

(I didn't reread shit I'm sorry I started it yesterday night and then passed out cause I'm sick, so if there's any mistakes, well, I don't really care)

Nesta hated her job. She fucking despised it.

There was not a single thing about her life that she enjoyed less than having to wake up in the morning to do something she disliked as much. She hated her colleagues. She hated her claustrophobic cubicle. She hated the stupid-hot-flavorless coffee they sold right outside her office. She hated the hours, the clothes she had to wear, the lonely lunch breaks. What she hated most, though, were the trips.

Her boss was a menace to society and why HR still hadn't fired him was beyond her. Her coworkers were so insanely dumb that sometimes she wondered how they'd even got the position. Her assistant had to be some kind of pity-hire cause there was so chance in hell he'd been interviewed and not fucked it up–he couldn't even print out a document on his own, for god's sake.

Why was she still working that job, you might ask?

For love. Love for her hardworking, supportive as hell, caring and lovely husband.

She just had to endure two more years of this, while he finished his degree, and then she'd be free. Free to go back to the minimum wage job at the library. To that beautiful, silent, dusty place she loved so much. And she could start her studies.

Just another two years and it'd be her turn. Less than that, if she really thought about it. Only 18 months.

Only 18 months.

18 months.

That was… 550 days, give or take.

550 days. She could do this.

She walked into the elevator, her broken trolley dragging on the floor behind her, and only once the doors closed in front of her and the thing started moving up did she let out a sigh, sagging against the mirror.

She was so goddamn tired. She just wanted to sleep the trip off, forget about everything that had gone wrong during it and let the even worse things she'd said go.

She was so tired that the ding dong of the doors opening on her floor almost scared the living shit out of her.

Walking to her apartment and finding the keys in her bag made her want to punch the front door off the hinges, but she refrained. She guessed her husband wouldn't want that.

As soon as she stepped in, a low mumbling coming from the kitchen welcomed her. It was music to her ears, even if she wanted to lay down and never have to hear a single word ever again. It sounded like home.

Cassian's murmuring only stopped when she closed the door behind her, making it known to everyone present that they weren't alone.

“Nes? Is that you?”

She smiled to herself, nodding silently.

“Sweetheart, if it is, please talk, or I'm coming out with knives.” He sounded genuinely afraid and she chuckled.

“Yes.” She replied, talking loudly over her shoulder as she hung her coat.

She heard furniture being thrown to the side and feet scuffling on the ground, and Cassian appeared a heartbeat later in the entry, his smile blinding, his eyes shining. He took two steps to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, hauling her against him.

“It is you, my dearly missed wife,” he said dramatically.

She breathed in his washed away cologne from the day, melting on his shoulder and hiding her face in the crook of his neck.

She'd missed him, too.

“You're back early.” He whispered in her ear, not letting go of her just yet.

Nesta reflexively put her arms around his torso, tightening her grip to the point of pain. He squeezed her in turn, stroking the back of her head with gentle fingers. She closed her eyes, basking in that anchoring feeling of being taken care of, being loved.

Cassian knew she needed some quiet time whenever she came back from work so they stood there for minutes, just touching, no talking, unwinding from a very long week without each other.

“You're back early,” he repeated, pulling away just enough for him to look at her face. He brushed a strand of stray hair away from her nose and cupped her cheek, sweeping a thump right below her eye. He smiled, even if a concerned wrinkle appeared between his eyes.

She nodded, leaning in his touch.

“Are you tired, sweetheart?” He asked, his voice a faint lullaby.

She could only nod again.

“Why don't you go into the bathroom and I run you a hot bubbly bath, uh?” He suggested, touching a knuckle to her chin.

Another nod. He cleared his throat and leaned in, placing a soft soft kiss to her lips. Nesta sighed when he stepped back and let him go reluctantly when he started walking towards the back of the house.

“There's still hot water on the stove, if you want some tea.”

She took a deep breath and bent forward, starting to open her luggage. Cassian made the short jog back to her and tugged on her blouse, making her rise again. Her back cracked as they both laughed.

“Leave it, I'll take care of it while you bathe. Go get the tea and come meet me in the bathroom.”

Nesta smiled up at him, touching his chest, tiptoeing to kiss him again. He met her halfway, placing a hand on the small of her back to keep her close.

“Thank you,” she said against his lips, noses brushing.

“I love you, now go.” He said, pressing another kiss to her forehead.

“No bubbles, please.”

“No bubbles coming your way, I swear.”

He left at that, swinging his hips left and right to make her laugh. It worked.

She was still boiling over in her hatred towards her job when she made her way to the kitchen and what she saw there put everything into perspective again. The table was basically collapsing under the weight of what was at least twenty textbooks and thousands of papers. A myriad of colored pencils and highlighters was scattered on every surface and from what she could see, Cassian had at least fifteen tabs open on his laptop. The floor was a canvas of written post-it notes and more papers, organized in what seemed to be a map.

He really was doing his best.

Her heart tugged a little as she poured the water in her favorite mug. The bone-deep exhaustion and lack of will to live were not for nothing. She was doing this for him and that was enough motivation not to quit.

She walked to the living room, warm beverage in her hands, and looked around to see if there was anything she'd have to do tomorrow. Maybe tidy up, go grocery shop, clean the whole house. But no, everything looked perfect as usual.

She was about to go look in their bedroom, when Cassian called to her, “Nes? It's ready.”

Slowly, she dragged herself to him. He was standing next to their tub, looking at the water filling up and when she finally stopped next to him he curled his arm around her shoulders, kissing her temple.

“You eaten anything yet?”

She shook her head, “No, my boss asked me if I wanted to come back with him tonight while I was about to head to the restaurant. Didn't have time to order take away.”

He hummed. “Are you hungry? Do you want me to cook you something?”

“Not really, no,” she tilted her head to the side, facing him. “Thank you, though.”

Cassian looked down at her then, bringing her closer to him. “Are you okay, baby? You look exhausted.”

The unsease in his voice made her want to cry.

“Just tired, don't worry about it.”

He nodded, kissing her again. It didn't look like he was going to stop anytime soon, either. She didn't mind.

“I'll let you decompress a little,” he murmured against her cheek, leaving yet another peck on her lips. “You sure you don't want food? Not even grilled cheese? A tiny sandwich?”

“A hundred percent sure,” she chuckled.

“Well, then, in that case,” he kissed her again, this time deepening the kiss, drinking from her mouth, breathing from her lungs. He kissed her bottom lip and left her there, stunned.

***

Nesta was crunching up her hair as she exited the bathroom and strode for the bedroom, her feet freezing on the stone cold floors.

Cassian grinned at her from his perch on the pillows when she stopped at the foot of the bed. “You feeling better?”

“Reborn,” was her only reply.

She tied her hair up in a towel and crawled on the sheets to him, where she laid across his body: her head on his heart, a leg slung over his hips, her arm around his waist.

His chest rumbled with laughter.

“Are you comfy like this?”

“Mhmh, so good.”

She almost moaned as he put down his book and moved so that their bodies intertwined. One of his legs went between hers, an arm under her head while the other around her waist and to her back, where he pushed her flat to his chest. He put his lips to her head and stayed in that position long enough that Nesta thought he'd fallen asleep.

She certainly had been on the gates of unconsciousness when he talked.

“I know I don't say it often, but thank you.”

Nesta had to put actual effort in staying awake, so she only ran the hand that wasn't stuck between their bodies down his back in soothing motions.

“I hope you know that I'm grateful for you and what you're doing for me.”

His voice sounded rough, as if he was worried what her reaction would be. That was enough to make her worry, and even though sleep was calling her under, she couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off.

Gently stroking his sternum with her knuckles, she said, “I know you are, Cass. You don't need to tell me.”

He shuffled a little, rearranging limbs and pulling her tight to him.

“I just don't want you to think I'm slacking off or chilling in between classes and exams while you work your ass off.”

At that point, Nesta tried to free herself from his grip. That he thought–

“Let's… can we, please, stay like this? I really missed having you home. Can you stay here?”

It was barely a whisper and Nesta's heart seized. Her stomach bottomed. Her head twirled.

“Of course we can. I can.” She put her hand flat on his chest, feeling his wild heartbeat. “Cassian, what's going on? Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes. I am. I swear. I just,” another pause, a deep breath. “I see you getting home every night and you look like death, no offense. You just look so fucking tired, Nes, all the time. Whenever you come back from another trip you look so done with everything. And I really don't want you thinking I don't appreciate everything you're doing for us. For me.”

She closed her eyes, leaning her head to his collarbone. This didn't sound like something that'd just come up. It felt more like something he'd been sitting on for a long time.

“How long have you been having these thoughts?”

He sniffed, “That's not the point.”

“It is for me,” she said firmly, but gently.

She gave him a moment to think, to gather his words. They stayed silent so long she seriously thought he'd fallen asleep on her, again.

“A few weeks. Since your last trip to Adriata,” he admitted.

Nesta hugged him closer. “That's almost four months ago, baby.”

“I know.”

“Why only bring it up now?”

“What would have changed? Short of me quitting uni and finding a job myself, there's nothing I can do to fix this for you.” He sounded pained. Like he truly believed he was the cause of her every malaise.

She moved back then, even when he tried to keep her in his embrace. She still lay down on her side, but she was now looking him in the eyes, a deep scowl on her face.

“What would have changed?” She parroted him, skimming her fingers down the side of his face. “Everything, Cass. I'd have told you this isn't on you. That we literally flipped a coin to see who would go to university first, while the other worked. This is not on you. It never has been and it never will.

“I don't want you to think you're causing me any kind of stress. Or pain. You need to focus on your classes and you taking care of that and the house in the meantime is enough. You're doing enough, love.”

He looked frantic, like he couldn't, wouldn't believe her words. She breathed in, offering what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

“You've already come such a long way. You're more than halfway through it. Yes, I am tired and I don't like my job, I'm not gonna lie, but do you have any idea how happy and proud I am of you, every time you walk through our front door and tell me your results? Or simply start ranting about your latest paper? I love it. I love you.”

He sprung forward, catching her lips between his, taking everything she was offering and giving back twice as much.

He touched his forehead to hers, “I just wish it was me.”

“And I don't, and we've had this conversation far too many times.” She reminded him.

That was true. They had fought months over who, between the two of them, would sacrifice five years of their lives by carrying the economic expenses of their little family on their backs while the other studied.

At the end of the day, after hours listing pros and cons, weighing every option in the universe, they found that the only reasonable solution was to flip a coin. Nesta's relief when it'd landed on head (her choice) had been so palpable that it didn't leave room for discussion.

And while she really, really, really didn't like her job, she never had a day of regret.

Cassian settled down after that, an arm bent behind his head and the other around her shoulders still. Nesta knew it was all pretense and he wasn't convinced, but she had no fight left in her right then.

She just needed her husband to hold her and let her sleep for at least ten hours. So she told him as much and Cassian chucked that rocky, low laugh of his.

She turned her back to his, letting him engulf her with his whole body. His mouth brushed her ear and right before she finally fell, his words pierced through her heart.

I love you.

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