This Union Means Nothing. There is No Love, Only Hate. (Closed with Dancing_With_My_Demons) (1/1)

Cass frowns ever so slightly, “You act like it, Charles.”

He jumps slightly when the glass shatters and he moves forward to help Charles. He looks away, feeling slightly chastised for some reason, “Are you-“ He looks back at Charles, his hands poised up to help Charles.

Cass sighs and steps back, dipping his head slightly, “Of course. . .” He murmurs. He waists a moment before leaving the room and going back out to the party. HE stood on the baladons, silent and watching the people on the floor below.

(Time-skip?)

(Yeah, you wanna go first?)

Cass had spent the time until dinner blankly staring at a wall. When his mother had walked up to him to talk to him, he’d pretended to be present in the conversation, saying little as his mother spewed information at him.

“Cassius, I know you’re not listening, but you must pay attention.” His mother took his arm, pulling him away from the balcony, out of view of the people below. “Do not embarrass us, Cassius. Behave yourself.”

Cass looked at his mother, “Do not worry, Mam, I won’t do anything foolish.” He winks and turns, going down the stairs. He then slipped away, going outside and staying there until he realized he was running late for the dinner. He curses inwardly, pulling at his clothes slightly, wishing they were looser. Such finery was uncomfortable and it was choking him.

He heads back inside, making his way through the house to where Charles was waiting. He smiles, “Sorry, I got distracted. Lost track of time.”

(I just wanna boop this and see if you’re still up for it)

(Mk)

Cass glances at Charles and blinks once at him and then looks away. He takes the other man’s arm, placing his hand on the inside of the other man’s elbow. He’s still quiet for a moment before he speaks, “Lets just get this over with, shall we?” He looks at Charles, tilting his head slightly. He doesn’t really smile, and he still has the slightest blank look on his face, but he was trying.

Cass follows Charles, silent and calm. He smiles at his own mother and dips his head to his feature mother-in-law. He sits down in the seat positioned next to Charles and forced himself to not put his elbow on the table and rest his chin in his palm. Because apparently, it was impolite and unbecoming. Having to pretend to care what others thought of him was annoying and he honestly hated it, but he would do it, if it meant he didn’t get scolded by, well, anyone.

Cass nods slightly at Charles’ words and gives a light smile, fighting the impulse to pull his hand away with a glare. Instead, he settled on giving a charming smile and clapping his hands together, “Anyways. Boring stuff aside, let’s eat!”

His mother shot him a screwed glare, meaning this was the utterly wrong thing to do. Apparently he was supposed to care about what these people thought more than he cared about food. Well, that was disappointing. Be that as it may, with the words already said and manners aside, Cass reached forward to serve himself some food.

Cass huffs, glaring at Charles. He shook his hand out and positively sulked. He didn’t not like people telling him no when it came to food. It was either drinking or eating that made Cass forget his worries, and with how active he was on a day to day basis, eating was the healthier option. But if he couldn’t eat, then he’d drink. He picks up his glass and peers inside for a moment before he takes a long drink.

He could feel Charles glaring at him, in almost the same way his mother was, but Cass didn’t care. The jerk prevented him from food, so now, he would wash his sorrows away in another fashion. He sighs, setting the glass down, “What is so wrong with wanting to eat? I don’t care ab out stupid protocol or manners or whatever.” This, he mutters under his breath with a wave of his hand.

Cass makes a face. He lifts the fork, looking at the food in front of him. He then sets the fork down and lifts his glass again, taking another drink, “You. . . Think I’m -lowering myself by getting myself food? Pfft. . . It makes no sense to make someone serve me when I can do it myself.”

His gaze slides over to Charles, “But I guess and spoiled Prince like you wouldn’t know a thing about serving himself.” He brings the words from the wine room back. The image of Charles shattering the glass still fresh in his mind.

He looks at Charles, his eyes scann8ng the other man’s face for a reaction.

Cass rolls his eyes and stands, pushing his chair back away from the table. He bends slightly to whisper into Charles ear, “Not everything is about you. I have no reason to bait you, Charles.”

He straightens, forcing a smile to his face and then just walks from the room. The doors click closed quietly behind him and he wanders around for a moment before finding a door to the outside world and walks out. The small garden was elevated and facing the sea. His beloved ocean.

He stares at the glittering water, and then drops his head to the railing. He didn’t care if walking out like that was disrespectful. He didn’t care what the stuck up nobles thought about him. All he wanted was to go out to the sea.

Cass stares at the water. He could feel the longing, to just run to the sea and never look back. But the slamming of the doors made him jump slightly and turn. In the face of Charles’ rage, Cass was calm, quiet. He lets the other man yell at him and then looks away silently.

He knew he probably looked as pitiful as he felt, but he didn’t care. “What right? What, am I just another slave to you?” Cass asks calmly.

“Some one to boss around and tell what to do? But really, I needed the space. It would have been much more embarrassing for you if I sat there and got drunk off my ass just so I didn’t have to feel the shit I don’t want to feel.” He closes his eyes.

Cass scowls, “Well, then I’ll do as I please, and if it means coming out here for a breath of fresh air so I don’t do something foolish, then that is what I’ll do.” His gaze drops to Charles’ hand and he frowns slightly, his features softening.

Instead of holding his hands out, he gently takes Charles’ hand and unwraps the linen. “You wrapped it wrong. And it’s not going to do anything like this. . .” He takes a clean corner of the bandage and careful whines the cuts. He pulls a clean bandage from his pocket and his hand swiftly wrap Charles’ hand.

“Being a sailor, it was useful to carry around bandages. You never know when you may need to grab onto a flying rope. The bandages prevented rope burn, so obviously I had to learn how to wrap them.” He doesn’t look up at Charles, and when he finishes, he turns away again, facing the sea once more. “You should be able to move your hand freely and it shouldn’t cut open unless you want it too.”

(Apparently Cass can be nice or something-)

Cass sighs, “I can’t pull the glass, you’ll have to see a medic for that. But I can stanch the bleeding.” He tightens the bandage around Charles’ wrist, not too tight enough to stop the blood flow all together, but tight enough for the bleeding to slow.

He steps away, sighing, “I don’t care what they think of me, and you shouldn’t either. It I need a breath of fresh air so I don’t punch you or anyone else in the face. Though that’s normally outside my typical behavior of calm and collected, I don’t like people telling me when I can and can’t eat.” He gives the other man a look.

(Well, he’s just in a bad mood because he doesn’t want to get married. He’s usually a cheerful fellow)

“Well. . .” He sighs, looking away, “That’s not the point. You could have just said, ‘Hey, Cassius, we have someone who will bring you food’ instead of slapping my hand away.”

He stares at the water, “And again, I’ll do whatever I please, because I don’t care what they think. It’s not like I made a big show about it. I just quietly left. They could have thought I needed to go to the bathroom or something. It’s you who decided to be dramatic.”