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+------ Thread: 92 Rue de Sasse - Sparks | Rossian Snaps (/showthread.php?tid=884)
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RE: 92 Rue de Sasse - Sparks | Rossian Snaps - Rosalie McCormick - 02-07-2026
He wanted to stand.
That was fine, she supposed. She'd let him do this however he needed to. At the end of the day, as long as there were words passing between them, then they weren't so far removed from each other were they? It was certainly preferable to what the last few weeks had been.
"I fucked up. What happened...I wasn't trying to hurt you – but that doesn't mean I didn't. I know that."
Did he? It hadn't felt like he did. That night when they were arguing and she was trying to help him understand her position, it had felt like he discarded all of it and just kept trying to tell her it wasn't a big deal.
It was the crux of why she was so upset, feeling like her husband didn't care about how she felt and only wanted to protect his own position and actions with explanations that fell woefully short anyway.
He said he understood now. Maybe he just needed time to let everything settle.
"I don't take her lunches anymore. Me and her friends...we don't hang out anymore either. I'm trying to fix this, Rosie, I am, I just...don't know what else I can do. I'm sorry it got this way. I'm sorry everything sucks. This wasn't what I promised you when we ran away that night or when we stood in that registrar's office."
As he retreated the few steps to the kitchen counter, she dropped her gaze to her hands resting in her lap. It had been so much more than the actions though, hadn't it? Outside of accepting the meals Maddy made for him or showering at her home, it was the idea that something that was so intimate to Rosie - those little things that should have been preserved within the confines of their relationship - could mean so little to him. So little that he'd allowed another person to intrude on it and hadn't thought twice.
It wasn't what they had promised each other - this silence and this growing canyon between them. She felt so distant from him that it was unbearable, and yet she hadn't allowed to take those steps towards him to close it because she didn't feel he understood why it was there in the first place.
"Everything's just been ...so hard, but I'm gonna figure it out, I promise. I don't know how yet, but I promise."
"I guess I felt like you didn't care," she said, drawing shapes with her finger along her knee for comfort. "I was trying to tell you why it upset me and you kept answering with 'it's not what you think'. I needed you to hear me. It's more than you just accepting lunches from her. It felt like she knew there was something missing there and you let her pounce on it."
The shower? Well that had just been poor judgement on his part. "There are things that should be special to just us. Like when you said I shouldn't hold hands with my male friends or make cookies for them to taste-test. Those things belong to you."
She paused, taking a deep breath. She needed to ask this for her own peace of mind.
"Do you like her?" the question came quiet as she raised her eyes from her lap back to the boy who she'd always felt so secure with. She needed to start there. Because if there had been any part of him that had, it changed the entire way they maneuvered through this.
RE: 92 Rue de Sasse - Sparks | Rossian Snaps - Cassian McCormick - 02-07-2026
"I guess I felt like you didn't care."
Nothing could be further from the truth. It was fair to say that Cassian had cared too much, but only about the wrong things, as he had taken some time to learn. He'd been so preoccupied with making sure Rosie knew he hadn't done anything and wasn't fooling around that he'd forgotten to listen. Had he opened his ears and closed his mouth for just a while, he'd have known that Saturday night what ended up taking him two weeks of silent reflection to figure out.
"I was trying to tell you why it upset me and you kept answering with 'it's not what you think'. I needed you to hear me. It's more than you just accepting lunches from her. It felt like she knew there was something missing there and you let her pounce on it."
"But I didn't—" He sucked in a deep breath, forcing himself to stop. No matter how else the night ended, he couldn't afford for a repeat of the night they'd argued. Cassian had already talked to himself about this. Being right, being vindicated, letting Rosie know that he'd tried to remain upstanding? None of it mattered if she was hurt. Her hurt was the point. Her hurt was the reason they were here. This wasn't a courtroom for him to plead his case; it was their small living room/kitchen where she was once again trying to tell him how she felt.
This time, he needed to listen, if only because he had no idea how to fix this on his own.
"I always care," he said instead. "Always have, and I'm sorry I left you thinking that I didn't. When you started asking about Maddy, you'd gotten so worked up – not worked up – upset – not upset...you had such strong feelings," he was trying to choose his words carefully, not wanting her to hear the wrong thing before he could get it all out, "that I guess I just panicked. Not because I was doing anything but because I was so desperate for you to believe me that I guess...I missed the point."
Cassian knew he hadn't been doing many things right. Defending against the accusation felt like trying to grab hold of the only thing he was sure he'd remained on the right side of. It was his only 'claim to fame' left, being a faithful husband who had no intention of straying, but it was so far down Rosie's growing list of concerns that it hadn't even mattered.
He didn't fully understand what she meant about missing things and Maddy pouncing until her next statement.
"There are things that should be special to just us. Like when you said I shouldn't hold hands with my male friends or make cookies for them to taste-test. Those things belong to you."
It was still a little fuzzy with the dots not connecting all the way, but they connected enough for him to get the bigger picture, and that was enough.
"I didn't know it meant that much to you," he admitted. Rosie had screamed that it was her job. It was the first time he thought she'd ever even seen it that way. Eating at home, at a diner, or getting it from a friend, Cassian had never put much value on his food, but Rosie did, and if she said it was hers, then it was hers.
"Do you like her?"
His stomach dropped at her question. Like her? Maddy? If nothing else, he'd thought that was the one thing he'd made clear in all his tone-deaf rambling. Cassian's lips fell in a deep scowl, his mind momentarily trailing back to the factory yard and his conversation with Maddy. The near kiss had set his blood to a slow boil and had opened his eyes to the fact that the girl's offers hadn't been so innocent after all.
"Of course not," Cass said, his brows knitting as he tried to catch her gaze. "Whatever's missing," as she'd said, "Maddy can't fix it. We're just friends...well...were." Friendship was a bit beyond what could be considered reasonable at this point.
"She tried to kiss me when I told her we couldn't hang out anymore." He wouldn't make the mistake of forgetting to tell her things again. "I didn't let her, in case it matters."
RE: 92 Rue de Sasse - Sparks | Rossian Snaps - Rosalie McCormick - 02-07-2026
She was quiet, patient, as he stumbled over his words, obviously trying to find the right ones to say. It felt like he was walking on eggshells, and Rosalie found herself not liking it. Cassian should be able to say what he needed, in the way he needed, without feeling like he had to watch his words or tone.
In the same thought, she knew what she had just said, and how their last fight had gone. But that had been because she felt misunderstood or that he wasn't listening to her words. Not because of the way he said his.
Shit.
She had some culpability here too.
"Not because I was doing anything but because I was so desperate for you to believe me that I guess...I missed the point."
"I understand that, I think." She did. Rosie understood that Cass didn't want her thinking the worst of him. He didn't want her to believe that he could cheat on her, and he'd been so desperate to convince her, the rest had gotten lost in translation.
That was it, wasn't it? Both of them were so desperate to be heard that they deafened themselves to the other's pleas.
"I didn't know it meant that much to you."
"All the little things do," she said, wanting him to understand, "You want to protect me and provide for me in all the ways that matter. You want to be my safe place." She paused for a moment, letting him take it in. It's why she had brought up the idea of letting some other man walk her home from work. That was his job, if he ever wanted it. Not that she needed him to, but it was something reserved for him. "I want to be your safe place. I want to take care of you and keep you comfortable. I can't do that if you won't let me, or if you let someone else take on those small things. They become meaningless."
Even if Cassian didn't feel like he needed her to make his meals for him, or wash his clothes, or keep their home tidy, she did. Because she was his wife, and Rosie had always been raised to understand a woman's important role in the home. And...she enjoyed doing those things for him. She liked seeing him enjoy the food she made, or the way his muscles relaxed when he settled into their home.
Cassian had given her a house - flat - and in return, she gave him a home.
She watched as his face deepened into a scowl, and for a moment, she wondered if she'd crossed a line in asking. Did she think Cassian had cheated on her? No. Rosalie had no doubt that her husband hadn't betrayed her in that way. Boundaries had been crossed, but active infidelity? No. It wasn't who he was or in his nature. As much as he could be 'Casanova', Cassian wasn't cruel and he didn't actively do things to hurt people - much less Rosie.
But that didn't mean he couldn't like Maddy.
"Of course not."
Her face crumpled as she fought back tears, relief washing over her at the words she had needed to hear. For a girl that nursed quiet insecurities on a day-to-day basis, for a wife that thought she was losing her husband in real time, it was like a life preserver at sea.
This wasn't the end. They could come back from this, easily, if they just tried. There wasn't another woman out there, waiting at the edges of shadows, ready to swoop in and steal her -
"She tried to kiss me when I told her we couldn't hang out anymore."
....
.....
"I didn't let her, in case it matters."
"What?" the question came with disbelief laced on her tongue, and Rosalie couldn't sit anymore. She rose from the couch, closing the distance between them. That girl - whoever she was - had tried to kiss her husband. She had tried to intrude on their marriage and sew betrayal between them. It was then, Rosalie realized, in the chaos and 'routine' of their day-to-day, they had left exposed a crack, vulnerable and visible to outsiders.
It wouldn't do. Something had to give.
"Of course it matters, love." The words came carefully as she reached to run a hand along his face. She didn't know if he'd let her, but her touch was there anyway. "I don't want you ever to think that protecting us and what we have doesn't matter." He'd rebuffed the girl, remained the wall that protected Rosie's heart when it would have been easy to give in. She'd shut him out, given him the cold shoulder - of course it would have been easy to fall into someone else's arms if he hadn't cared.
"I'm sorry," she said, realizing she needed to fix this as much as he did. "For not having more faith in you when I should have. And I don't want you to feel like you have to tip-toe around me. I want you to understand how I feel, but I don't want you second-guessing how you have to feel or act." That was fair, wasn't it?
He'd suggested she needed to quit the night shift at work, and she was beginning to see how strained everything had become just because they didn't have a realistic amount of time to connect and reassure one another in the moments when they needed it.
Cassian needed her there, when he got home, so he could feel like he had something to look forward to. She needed to be there so they could have those sweet moments that reminded her he was hers. They needed to feel like all of this was worth it.
"If you give me two weeks," Rosie said evenly, without a shred of regret in her voice, "I'll quit the diner. We can make it on your income and what I get at the market. Business is getting better and," she nodded, wanting him to understand that she finally understood, "you're more important to me than anything else."
RE: 92 Rue de Sasse - Sparks | Rossian Snaps - Cassian McCormick - 02-08-2026
All the little things, she said. All of it mattered.
It wasn't difficult to understand where she was coming from once she explained. There were things he'd made clear that he didn't like, things that might've had some rolling their eyes and calling him jealous. Rosie hadn't laughed. She hadn't brushed him off and told him he was being ridiculous, like he'd unintentionally done to her when everything had finally come to a head. Caught up in his own storm of vindication, Cassian never imagined they could be on the same plane.
A lunch? A shower?
But he should've.
It was another thing he found difficult. Not taking Rosie at her word or believing and wanting to address her hurt but something more insidious. The boy didn't think they were things she'd care about or particularly want to do because he'd never thought there was anything more she should do. When it came to himself, the laundry list was long and unforgiving. In his mind, he was the one with things to prove and duties that belonged to him. There was nothing owed to him or any standard for measure. Her happiness was all he needed in return.
Cass was seeing now that Rosie held her own beliefs when it came to expectations and things that, as a wife, she felt were hers. Did he have any right to tell her they weren't hers? To strip them down and tell her they could be anyone's?
He didn't.
Cassian wished someone would've sat him down and taught him all of this. It all felt like a complicated song and dance that didn't depend on intuition but rather on an already innate knowing that he didn't possess.
"I should've seen it sooner, I'm sorry."
Before he knew it, she was on her feet.
"What?"
Cassian cringed at the question, recoiling at the thought that they might be headed for another argument, no matter how carefully he'd chosen his words. He was exhausted in every way imaginable and knew he wouldn't be able to weather another emotional explosion in his current state. He didn't want to keep fighting and didn't think he had it in him for another back-and-forth. Cass had done everything he could and had made sure that Maddy hadn't gotten her parting wish, but if Rosie needed to get this off her chest, too, then...then he would listen.
"Of course it matters, love. I don't want you ever to think that protecting us and what we have doesn't matter."
It wasn't her words that melted him but her gentle touch. Cassian struggled to remember the last time she touched him like this, with meaning and warmth. For the first time in what could've easily been forever, he felt seen. The boy who'd fallen into obscurity, moving day in and day out from work to home, then work again, felt like Rosie was looking at him again and seeing how hard he was trying for the two of them. It broke something inside him that he hadn't realised was barely being held together.
Sitting in their silent flat every evening after sending Maddy on her way...it hadn't felt like it mattered or made any sort of difference. His home life hadn't improved; it was still glacial ice and deafening silence.
"I'm sorry for not having more faith in you when I should have. And I don't want you to feel like you have to tip-toe around me. I want you to understand how I feel, but I don't want you second-guessing how you have to feel or act."
He lifted a hand to quickly wipe at his eyes, managing to keep it together as he nodded. Nodding was all he could manage as his skin burned in all the places her fingers travelled.
He was a mess, his fatigue making it harder for him to maintain his cracking composure.
"If you give me two weeks."
Two...weeks...?
"I'll quit the diner. We can make it on your income and what I get at the market. Business is getting better."
His heart stopped.
"and you're more important to me than anything else."
The last few words reverberated inside his head, hitting against the chaos and loud grey noise that had bogged him down. Cassian knew that Rosie cared about him. This wasn't a matter of knowing but being reminded. The weeks of silence hadn't been the beginning; it had only been the continuation of a pattern that began the moment they began their new lives. He'd begun to feel so ...invisible, a spectre in his own home, going through the motions while he waited for some giant, cosmic hand to pull him back into feeling...anything.
Cass felt a lot now, an overwhelming amount. She was quitting the diner. When he'd suggested it, it had been out of desperation to reclaim even a small portion of what they had in an otherwise uncompromising setup, and he'd felt bad about it the moment she threw it back as a solution to his problems and nothing more. Cassian never wanted to control his wife or stifle her voice and had determined that, if it really mattered that much to her, then he would let her keep it. His relief was immeasurable when he heard she'd leave it anyway.
Without thinking, his arms wrapped around her, following old familiar paths and falling back into muscle memory that had been ingrained from years of shared affection.
He pulled her flush against him and kissed her without worry about whether it was right or appropriate. His brain didn't have the capacity for all that. In one night, under the flickering candles of a failed holiday, Cassian felt like he'd gotten his wife back and, with her, a missing piece of his soul.
RE: 92 Rue de Sasse - Sparks | Rossian Snaps - Rosalie McCormick - 02-08-2026
"I'm sorry too." She was, sincerely, for her role in all of this and not recognizing what Cassian needed before this all got so out of hand. It wasn't like them, to treat one another with such disregard, and she never wanted them to sink so lowly again.
She wouldn't, she silently promised herself and him. She'd made a vow to him that day in the registrar's office, that she was his, forsaking all others, through life's ups and downs until the day one of them left the earth. She'd meant it, with all of her being, but for a short time she'd allowed herself to step out of that promise and focus her attentions elsewhere.
When she saw the tears, her heart seized. Her sweet love. She hadn't known he was hurting this badly, and if she had...Merlin how different the last two weeks would have been. If only they'd talked. If only she'd given him room to talk. "Cassian..."
Rosie caught his hands, nudging them gently away, so her own could take their place, wiping the sadness from his eyes. "I'm so sorry love," she said again, feeling her own emotions rising at seeing him so broken, and knowing she'd had a hand in it.
The girl knew marriage had its ups and downs. She knew that this wouldn't be the last bump in the road for them. At seventeen, how could it be, when they had their entire lives ahead of them? But Rosie knew she'd remember this moment, and the way his tears coated her fingers. She never wanted to be here again, so disconnected from the one person who loved her for her.
She saw something change in his eyes, the moment she promised to quit, and it was another realization that this was that something. The thing that had to give and would make way for them to find one another and who they were again.
When Cassian's arms wrapped around her, she didn't resist. As much as he needed her touch, she needed his. His body's warmth enveloped her, and as they kissed, Rosie felt the stitching of her heart realign. Her hands went to his hair, letting the familiar soft curls rake through her fingers as the taste of cinnamon filled her senses.
It had felt like ages since he'd held her. Since he'd kissed her like this. It was the healing balm that she needed after consecutive nights filled with loneliness that cut like a knife. As her body relaxed against his, she finally felt the fatigue take her, her muscles heavy with the reminder of all it had endured for two weeks.
"We're not going to work tomorrow," she whispered against his lips. They needed time, just the two of them. Work would always be there, but as they'd proven, love was fragile and needed to be handled with reverence. "Come to bed?"
She pulled away just enough to take him by the hand, and pull him into their bedroom, where the rose petals would lead them to a softer night.