Immediately after Cassian had left yesterday morning Nesta had repeated the action of eliminating the fire. Bucket sloshing, she'd carried it from the sink to the hearth. Smoke rose as the flames were put out, and she covered her mouth to cough. The home had no time to warm up. Nesta had returned to her blankets, but this time with wine.

Now it was the next morning, and the wine was gone. Nesta shivered and rocked a little, a lump upon the couch. How would she survive here without fire? The sound was unbearable, but the cold was going to kill her.

And then Nesta wondered if that was honestly what she wanted. To stop existing. To slowly freeze to death. There were better, less dramatic ways to die, she knew. She had certainly entertained them since she had cut the King's head off.

And then she suddenly felt him. Cassian. Saw him in her mind's eye—like a small ball of glowing gold light that she could see through space.

He was here earlier than she'd expected; or, she had lost track of time. There wasn't a clock to be found.

"Nesta."

She had no choice but to go open the door. Or make him come in himself like she had done yesterday. Maybe he would be less irritated with her if she let him in.

So she stood, slowly, removed her blankets, and was instantaneously frozen. The room was so cold it was brittle and sucked the air from her lungs. Her emerald, velvet dress was floor length with long sleeves but did nothing to protect her.

She had not even brought socks, why—?

The front door opened and Cassian entered. Their eyes met as the understanding that she had not followed his request set in. The first thing she saw in his eyes was the pain.

"Why do you keep drowning the fire? Tell me, or I'll have Rhys come install one permanently," he said.

"Don't you dare," she scowled, moving to stand between him and the hearth. Her stance was unyielding. She challenged him; come closer, see what I'll do. If he tried to light that fire again—

Cassian heard a low rumble behind him. He turned, the noise in question seemed to be coming from the kitchen sink. It was building, growing louder. Before he could speak, the handles turned, and the faucet burst, flying across the room hitting a nearby wall. A geyser erupted from where the faucet once was, into the small kitchen, soaking everything in its path. Cassian was a direct hit. He swore and moved to cover it with his hands, which didn't help, and only drenched him further.

Nesta stayed dry, far enough away, mouth agape. "I didn't—" She took a deep breath, hand outstretched to steady herself against the fireplace.

The spray ceased instantly, but water continued to run from the broken sink. Cassian turned around, picking at his wet shirt. He was irked. "You did that," he said, pointing towards the sink.

Nesta noted it wasn't a question. "I did." Stupid to pretend she hadn't.

"And?" Cassian pushed. He felt the waves of power retreat toward her. When he realized an apology was not coming, he laughed. Typical. "Nesta, if you wanted me to take my clothes off, you could have just asked." He grinned a cocky wolf smile.

Nesta rolled her eyes and lifted her dress. She made her way over to the kitchen counter and grimaced, turning the sink handles off. Great. Now her sink was broken. And Cassian was a wet bat, threatening to disrobe.

"What am I supposed to do? Fly home like this?" He was soaked, head to toe, wings and all. Taking a seat at the table, Cassian removed his water-logged boots, followed by his socks. He had decided not to comment on her power, yet. He knew she had it, and he'd felt it many times before, as it hung pungently around them, a kind of heaviness in the air. But Cassian had never actually seen her use it, willingly or otherwise.

Now quite stiff, Nesta went to pick up the fallen faucet. She held it for a moment, feeling its weight in her hands before she quietly strode over and dropped it on the table. This loss of control was not new—shattered windows, broken furniture, things she had to explain or hide from her nosy landlord. But Nesta had managed to keep it from her sisters, and their friends. And whatever it was, she suppressed it. Pushed it down, locked it up, in a faraway corner of her mind.

Cassian watched her curiously, before shaking off like a dog. "Nesta, it's cold. I'm freezing. We need to talk about this fire-thing."

"No." Her answer was simple. "No fire. Just leave, Cassian."

He gawked and pointed to himself. "I'm wet! It's frigid outside. Do you really want me to suffer that much, Nesta?" Although if he had to compare it to what he had already experienced with her…the stress, the heartache he could hardly tolerate… Maybe flying home soggy wouldn't be so bad.

"No," Nesta said quietly, surprising even herself that she had spoken. "I do not wish for you to suffer." Then she walked toward the neatly placed pile of logs Cassian had stacked yesterday. After hesitating, she grabbed two and put them in the fireplace. She took a pile of kindling and lit a match, nurturing a small spark.

After Feyre had been taken by a monster, she had learned to do things like this, to keep her sister and father alive. This simple act stirred a mixture of emotions Nesta did not want to vomit up, and her body began to long for what would numb her.

Cassian knew better than to ask Nesta if she needed help. "You need to warm up, too. The winter is only getting worse here. Do you have clothes that will protect you when you go out—"

"I do not wish to go out."

What did she wish for? He nodded, accepting her response. His next question would test Nesta enough.

"Can I take my clothes off?"

Nesta turned from the fire and forgot about the noise that was just beginning. Imaginary daggers hung around her, ready to strike, but she supposed this was her fault.

"You may stay out here," she said sternly. Plucking a blanket from the pile on the couch, she left him the rest. "I will be in the bedroom. Step over that threshold and expect to have your most precious item removed."

"And what would that be?" he asked, leaning forward in his chair. He did not smile.

"Goodnight, General." Nesta held her blanket tight and slammed the bedroom door behind her.

Cassian grit his teeth and began to remove his wet garments.

This was not how he expected his first night naked and alone with Nesta to go.

A/N: Hi! Let's be friends on Tumblr! Username: Joysbell