Invitations [Cassian]

Wholesome. His date was too wholesome and pure! So trusting. Cassian's chest squeezed as he smiled back and wrapped an arm around Beaux's waist. Making sure he had enough support, the pair began their trek to the resort.

Once inside, Cassian gave a curt nod to the attendants Beaux so cutely waved to, doing his best to seem less infatuated and drunk than he was. No one needed to get the wrong idea about his date, though his own reputation was shot on that front. While it was possibly unavoidable given the spiteful crowd, the thought that anyone would say anything bad about the feathery drunk made his blood boil. He even offered a small explanation to onlookers, mentioning he was taking the angel to sleep it off to try to head off any chatter of less than pure things, though he stubbornly rejected their offers to help the noble get the man to a room.

Snorting a quiet laugh through his nose, Cassian did eventually sweep the man up into his arms. Even if the angel was taller, it was nothing the eyepatched mage couldn't handle, especially since he knew there was no way he was getting this man up the stairs with this level of uncoordination. Before long, he was awkwardly opening the suite door. It was a nice room, fancy enough. Was it better than 90% of the population would ever experience? Sure, but to him, it was just average. Decorators got a little happy with all the gold filigree and tassels, but as he laid Beaux down, the mattress was soft as ever. He'd sleep off the alcohol in luxurious comfort. He swept the tinsel from Beaux's pretty face and chanced one last brush of his cheek before he stepped back and toward the door.

This is when Cassian should've and would've taken his leave but... it was the overwhelming need to make sure Beaux was okay that stopped him. What if he got sick from all the booze in the middle of the night? What if someone broke in? What if something happened to him on his way back to the docks?

These might seem like paranoid thoughts, but being the son of a noble family put scenarios like this into reality with disturbing ease. And this was entirely his own fault. Selfish, selfish, and he'd continue to be selfish.

But not that kind of selfish. He'd take the gaudy floral patterned and rather uncomfy-looking chair not too far from the bed. He turned it so he could see Beaux with a simple glance should anything happen, then slumped down into it. Before long, both drunks were asleep after a very nice evening.

[wc: 448 || total: 28,874]