A/N: Listen, was I meant to spend the evening finally finishing my Elucien Week fic? Yes. Yes, I was. Did I instead spend it writing this 1k drabble to prove a point? Yes. Yes, I did. This fic is dedicated to @moodymelanist, @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk, and @talkfantasytome who agree with me, but it is especially dedicated to @dustjacketmusings because THIS is the correct take. Thank you and goodnight 😌
Nesta sighs softly as the tips of Cassian’s fingers skirt down her arm and then back up again. She practically melts against him, curling tighter into his side. She shoves her toes deeper beneath his thigh, leaching as much warmth as she can, and she can practically feel Cassian’s chuckle as it rumbles through his chest. His hair tickles her cheek as he turns his head, and she doesn’t even bother biting back her smile when she feels him press a kiss to her forehead.
“Comfy, sweetheart?”
Nesta hums her assent, earning another soft laugh from Cassian. She keeps her eyes on the television screen, on the movie playing there. She tries to pay attention to the characters, the dialogue they’re speaking, but already, she feels so relaxed, so comfortable. She can feel every muscle unwind, her eyes starting to flutter, but she’s determined, holding out until the end credits start to roll.
Cassian grabs the remote and turns off the television, the screen fading to black with a soft click. Nesta tosses the blanket off her legs and stands up, stretching her arms high above her head until she feels that satisfying pull in her back. Cassian’s hands settle on her hips, sliding around her waist and tugging her back into him.
“Don’t,” Cassian whispers, burying his face against her neck.
Nesta snorts softly, even as she presses back against him. “I didn’t even do anything.”
“But I know what you’re going to say, that you need to go home.”
“I do. It’s late.”
“Stay.” Nesta doesn’t say anything, her bottom lip finding home between her teeth, but that just seems to encourage Cassian more, his arms tightening around her. “Stay, Nes.” At her continued silence, she can feel his smile against her skin. “Neither of us have work in the morning. I can give you something to sleep in. So stay.”
Nesta turns around in his arms, using all her willpower to keep her face neutral. “I usually like to shower before bed.”
“I know it might sound crazy, but my apartment does in fact have one of those.”
“I hate you.”
Cassian’s hands reach up and frame her face. “No, you don’t. Besides, I’ll make us breakfast in the morning.”
Nesta hums, pretending to think about it. “French toast?”
“You drive a hard bargain, but it’s a deal.”
Nesta smiles and presses up onto her toes, sealing their deal with a kiss. It’s sweet, a simple press of lips as they both smile into it, but happiness takes root between Nesta’s ribs and leaves butterflies fluttering in her chest.
When they pull apart, Cassian leads the way down the hall and to his bedroom. He roots around in his drawer until he produces a soft looking, oversized tee. He steps back over to Nesta, holding it out for her to take.
“Towels are in the closet in the hall, and you know where the bathroom is.” With a nod, Nesta tries to take the shirt from his hands, but Cassian holds firm, using their shared grip to pull Nesta close again and steal another kiss. When he pulls away, that infuriating smirk of his takes over his face, his voice dipping low and suggestive as he says, “let me know if you need any help.”
Nesta rolls her eyes fondly, but she takes the shirt finally and steps out of his bedroom. She finds the closet Cassian mentioned and tugs the door open. She’s surprised to find so much on the shelves inside. Wash cloths. Small towels that seem to have buttons on them. She spies a neat stack of regular towels and grabs one, heading into the bathroom and closing the door behind her.
She sets the towel and Cassian’s shirt aside. She reaches into the shower and turns the knob, letting the water warm up while she peels her own clothes off and neatly folds them. When steam starts to fill the bathroom, she yanks back the shower curtain, but she pauses before she steps inside. She has to blink a few times, making sure what she’s seeing isn’t some trick of her imagination. For a moment, she feels like she’s suddenly transported to Elain and Lucien’s home.
Lined neatly along the shelves in the shower are bottles. Multiple bottles. A large, bright green bottle labeled sulfate free shampoo. A small, pink bottle next to it labeled co-wash shampoo. Deep conditioner. Leave-in conditioner. A small jar of hair mask.
Nesta has certainly always appreciated Cassian’s hair. The way those curls look so gorgeous when they hang around his face and shoulders. The way the strands feel so soft when she runs her fingers through them. She supposes she should have known his luscious hair wasn’t all natural and took some work. Should have known he’d take his haircare routine so seriously.
She has to bite her lip around a laugh, but she finally steps into the shower and under the spray. The heat of the water against her shoulders pulls a sigh from her lips and she tips her head back, letting the water soak her hair. She eyes the different hair supplies Cassian has before deciding to grab the sulfate free shampoo and work that through her hair. She uses some of the deep conditioner next, surprised at how soft her hair already feels when she rinses it out.
Nesta shuts off the shower and steps out, wrapping the towel around her and squeezing out the excess water from her hair. She pulls open Cassian’s medicine cabinet in hopes of finding a comb and is greeted with the sight of even more hair products. Creams, mousse, and gels. She shakes her head fondly and grabs the comb stored in there beside the various products, carefully running it through her wet hair.
She tugs Cassian’s shirt over her head, the fabric soft where it hangs off her and smelling just like Cassian’s cologne. She takes a moment to savor the feeling of it before grabbing the towel again, bending forward and rubbing her hair through it before wrapping the towel around her head. She straightens back up and adjusts the towel slightly so it doesn’t fall.
She decides to leave her clothes for the morning, padding back down the hall and into Cassian’s bedroom. He’s already lounging on his bed, stripped down to just a pair of boxers and casually scrolling through his phone. He looks up with a smile when Nesta steps inside, but then his eyes widen, that smile slowly slipping away. He almost looks… horrified.
“What?” Nesta asks, tilting her head in confusion and tugging almost nervously at the hem of the shirt she’s wearing.
“Did you use a normal towel on your hair?”
“What.”
“Didn’t you see the hair towels in the closet?” Cassian asks, setting his phone down on the bedside table and clambering off the bed.
“What are you talking about?” Nesta shoots back, feeling almost bewildered as Cassian steps around her and into the hall.
“Your hair is going to get frizzy if you use a normal towel like that,” Cassian calls out, and Nesta can hear rustling before he steps back into view, one of the smaller towels with a button on it in his hands. “These are microfiber. These are what you want.”
Without another word, Cassian pulls the towel off Nesta’s head, tossing it toward the hamper near his dresser. He guides Nesta to bend forward so that all her hair hangs down then carefully wraps the microfiber hair towel until all the strands are gathered and tucked inside. When Nesta stands back up, his hands work with practiced ease, securing the towel with the button at the front.
“See?” Cassian asks, his hands sliding from Nesta’s head down to her shoulders. “Much better, right?”
“You’re crazy,” Nesta tells him, but there’s no hiding the fondness from her tone, no stopping the smile that tugs up her lips.
“You love me anyways.”
—
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