Heart Of Steel~ A Nessian fanfiction

5

I didn't bother brushing my hair or showering. I just sat on the couch and drank wine. When Cassian knocked on the door, I staggered to open it. "Hey", I slurred. He wrinkled his nose. "You reek of alchohol", he informed me. I just laughed in his face and slumped back onto the couch. "Bag's there", I point to the bag resting on the wall. Cassian nods and picks it up. "Can we go now?" he said coldly. I startled at his tone. Then I mustered a smirk. I wrapped my arms around his waist and I felt him tense. I swallowed. Cassian winnowed us to a.....forest? I froze. This was the forest that Feyre would hunt in. "Why didn't you just winnow us to the village?" I asked with a bitter laugh. Cassian studied me. From my sharp face, to my full breasts to my thin wrists. He looked away. "Rysand said he needed something from here", Cassian replied. Night began to fall and I scowled at Cassian. "Well did Rhysand tell you have we are supposed to sleep in the middle of a forest?" I sneered. Cassian just laughed. I didn't know if I wanted to kiss him or kill him. Kiss him, a voice in my mind whispered. I shook my head. This forest was doing things to my head. Cassian lay on the ground, the leaves beneath him wrinkling. "Come on", he grinned. I rolled my eyes but lay on the ground. I shivered. How was it this cold? "Nesta?" I turned to face Cassian. "You cold?" he asked softly. I barely nodded. Cassian draped his arm around me and his warmth made goosebumps trail down my arm. "Are you still cold?" he asked quietly, his breath hot on my skin. "No", I whispered. My heart thumped against my chest and my eyes trailed all over him, devouring the sight of the muscled illyrian bastard. "Nesta?" he asked softly. I squeezed my eyes shut. The wind whipped my hair around and I struggled to keep it out of my eyes. Cassian took a deep breath and draped his dark, bat-like wings around us. The wind stopped and my voice hitched in my throat. Cassian. He made me feel all these sort of things I didn't want to feel. Or did I? It was too confusing. I turned so my back faced him and let the emptiness fill me whole. Feeling nothing was so much easier. Feeling nothing was safe. Feeling nothing was who I was. Nesta Archeon. The woman who drank herself to an oblivion to feel nothing. Nesta Archeon. The woman who felt so much. Too much.