Chapter 3: To the Beat of His Heart

"Once Upon Another Time" by Sara Bareilles

Nesta could feel the beat of his heart, the sound pounding in her skull. She could feel his rapid breathing, his troubled worry an inch away from her fingertips. She paced around the room, trying to itch a scratch that was entirely out of reach. Her fists clenched, leaving half-moons on the skin of her palms. She wouldn't have been surprised if she drew blood.

Her mind clutched the pain, grieved with it. One minute she was pacing, the next she was crouched low. Her hands pulled her hair. Her breathing turned rapid and her chest moved up and down, up and down, up and down again, until she was sure no air was reaching her lungs.

She felt the string, felt it tighten and pull. She tried to grasp at its ends, to reach for the tightrope of promise, tried to hold on for all she could.

It ruptured anyway.

There were many days she had decided to stay in the comfort of the dark, to dwell alone in her room. Safe and sound from the people who would only asked questions. Questions she didn't know how to answer.

But now, as the light from her window slowly faded, she still could not feel him. Could not hear his laugh in the back of her mind, could not feel the comfort and self-assurance that always caressed her back with agile fingers. She couldn't even hear his heartbeat.

Even though she was safer confined to her room, even though her family was safer when she was confined to her room, Nesta couldn't stop the air escaping from her lungs.

She ran before she knew where she was going. Ran and didn't stop. Past hallway after hallway, jumbling past pictures she was sure Feyre must have painted. She could have sworn she saw Cerridwen and Nuala's shocked look from the corner of her eyes as she ambled forth and steadfast.

She did not look back once.

Nesta almost tripped as she gathered in the living room. Feyre seated, paint brush in hand, and Elain, Elain with her flour stained cheeks kneading dough on the counter. She must have looked like she felt, because they saw her and jumped to their feet.

The concern in their gaze was too warm for the heat of her cheeks. She could only stare at them, while her heart tried to make room in her tightening chest.

Nesta opened her mouth to speak, but the door burst open and so did her heart. But the person she was hoping for wasn't standing in front of her. Rhysand and Azriel walked in, with Cassian nowhere in sight. A voice inside of her whispered he was gone. Gone forever.

She could feel the hollowness of her throat making it difficult to speak, to swallow. The wetness dripped from her cheeks and she made no effort in wiping it away, how she proclaimed herself was not important enough to ignore the cold cries of night.

She grabbed on to the lapels of Rhysand's coat, saw the furrowed brows and his violet eyes searching for any sign of injury. He looked at Feyre, but she shook her head and all Nesta could think was that they were telling each other the news. He wasn't coming home.

"Where is he?" She whispered, tears threatening to make an ocean where there was only a puddle.

But she couldn't stop the trembling, as if the Earth was crumbling beneath her feet and there was only a ledge to stand on. Her legs shook from the sheer effort of standing when all she wanted to do was fall into the endless pit of twilight.

The great beast she hid inside finally cracked from the weight of her world.

"Where is he?" She yelled, screamed to anyone who'd listen. To the wind, to the house, to the people before her.

All she wanted was an answer. She almost felt guilty for never giving one of her own. For never saying what she felt, for never giving more than she took. For never being enough.

"Where is he?" She whispered, voice all too quiet for the stillness of the room. She fell to her knees as the terror punched her in the gut.

"Where's Cassian?" She cried.

In the distance, she could see Feyre and Rhys exchanging a worried glance, her own sister coming to calm her fit of worry. All Nesta could hear was the sound of a name echoing in her mind, screaming for an answer. Just one.

Cassian. Cassian. Cassian

She grasped the front of her gown, clenching her fists and the fabric. Anything to relieve the pain gripping her sanity in a lock so tight it could break.

"Nesta." Feyre answered, not the name she wanted. "It's okay."

Her voice was soft as she rubbed her back, but the fear held her by the collar, strong and unbreakable.

"Cassian's fine. He's just a little late is all."

Nesta didn't believe her, she didn't feel the string pulled tightly, did not feel it pulse with life and sincerity. She could not feel its hope. She didn't have hope.

When she was ready to give up, to give her whole life to the void of her darkness, he walked through the door. She swore the fear had let go of her neck.

Nesta rushed forward, ignoring the deep frown of her sister's eyebrows looking at them. She simply encircled her arms around him, breathing in the pine and fresh air. She rested her head on his chest, felt the steady thumping. One beat after another, a sweet and glorious sound.

Her tears didn't stop leaking, it rushed as if a dam had broken into two pieces. There was no stopping the current from seeping through every surface in its path.

"I couldn't feel you. I couldn't feel you." She chanted, over and over. In tune to the rhythm of his breathing.

Cassian held her closer, enclosing his arms around her so tight she'd feel his warmth. Feel his protection. His large hands glided through her hair, gentle and calming, coaxing her racing heart to match his.

Nesta's eyes drifted close. Energy dissipated from her rampant thoughts, lulled to sleep by his smell and the string pulled oh so tight.

He carried her to her room, held her with so much care he wanted to keep her forever. Cassian didn't want to leave her alone, in her dark, cold room, when his was a mile away. Her cheeks glistened and he wanted to kiss them away, soft like the silk of her hair.

He had ignored the other's looks, didn't say a word, voice a thought beyond the mention of taking Nesta to her room. He didn't want to hear what they had to say, couldn't handle the truth even if he dared.

Nesta fit into his arms, was molded to fit just right. He wanted his warmth to seep into her cold skin, held her tighter for that reason only. He promised himself that was the only reason.

He laid her down, ever so gently. Tucked her in until he was sure she would not be cold in the night. Even after her breathing evened out, he made no move to leave. He blinked. Once. Twice. Cassian couldn't even contemplate the idea that she was his, that they belonged to each other.

He shook the thought away quickly. Nesta belonged to no one, not to any man or woman who graced the planet. Nesta was strong and capable, just like him.

He didn't dwell on that thought either, just watched the shadow of her eyelashes dance on her cheekbones. He could hear the rain coming from outside. Softly, like a gentle breeze.

Nesta's breathing remained calm, steady. He would check on her in the morning, make sure she was as Nesta as Nesta could be.

But like the pitter-patter of the rain, he didn't want to go away.

This is actually really hard, I don't know why I challenged myself during finals week… (shrugs)