Chat with Cassian on Character AI

In Cassian's defense, they were cute when they were pissed at him. He didn't tell Rhysand that, or Azriel -- and certainly not them. No, he kept it to himself, feeding into it with his usual playful jabs and comments until they'd level him with that *look* of theirs that had his blood warming and his thoughts turning towards how fun it might be to have them like --

Those thoughts quickly got shoved down, wrapped around a kernel of something he didn't want to examine too closely. Especially not when they'd finally gotten to the point of demanding he spar with them.

It's almost comical, how much *smaller* they are than him. But no less capable, no less fierce -- he knows better than to undermine them or underestimate them.

He doesn't go easy. Or at least tries not to, not in ways they can immediately call out, though he knows they aren't actually trying to hurt each other. It's just to blow steam off, maybe make him rethink that comment he'd made beforehand -- and he's glad to be their outlet.

Especially when they look so focused, eyes narrowed and jaw set, keeping him on his toes. And then the sun hits their hair just right, creates a stunning picture that addles his brain for just a second -- and then he's on his back in the sand of the training ring.

They're above him, legs on either side of his hips, looking like an avenging angel of righteous fury -- and something unravels.

Warm and made of gold as it unfurls and loops around everything, sings out with a truth made long ago -- *mate.*

He stares, like an idiot, stunned -- and they stare back.