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+------- Thread: The Archer | Rossian (/showthread.php?tid=608)
The Archer | Rossian - Rosalie McCormick - 10-28-2025
Saturday March 19, 1921
6:00 PM
The Theatre
<3
6:00 PM
The Theatre
<3
"The bloody curtain's stuck," Rosalie said, frustration lacing her voice as she tugged on the ropes that were meant to lower and raise it. It didn't matter if she tried manually or used her wand; the damn thing wasn't moving. She threw up her hands, resigned to letting them remain half-raised and returned herself to the table where Cassian was leaning over their script, pouring over the third act.
She came up behind him, slipping her arms around his waist, reading over his shoulder as he made fast edits with his quill. She loved seeing him back in his element, surrounded by all the things he loved and that brought out that fiery passion he saved for the stage. Working on their play this year had been cathartic - something they had been planning to do for awhile, but life kept getting in the way of.
When he was here, he was himself again. That focused dedication apparent all over his serious expression, studying every angle, every word, every bit of lighting. Though they were going to be the only two to watch this play - they'd written it especially for each other - he threw himself in head-first as though it would be on Broadway.
Someday, Rosalie knew it would be.
"I really do think the third act is perfect as is," she said, knowing it was futile and dropping a brief kiss on his cheek, before letting him go. She sighed softly, wandering to the middle of the stage and looking out into the empty audience. She wondered, what it felt like. To stand there, performing, all eyes and lights on her. It sounded terrifying. It was amazing to her the way Cassian could do it and make it look so easy, as though it all just came innate to him.
She supposed talent would do that.
"Do you ever get scared?" she asked, looking over her shoulder at him with a slight smile. "Having all the attention on you?"
RE: The Archer | Rossian - Cassian McCormick - 10-31-2025
What if he just…
No, that wouldn’t work. It might have been fine, the scene worked from a technical standpoint but it was missing…missing…
Cassian twirled the feather of his quill against his chin, the world around him lost to him while he poured over the lines he’d been reading again and again for the last half hour or so. Was it the soul that was missing? Was there enough spark? It was meant to be a climactic moment. Not just anything would do—
If the entrance changed to here… and moved a little further up here… it was coming together again, new sparks going off inside his often chaotic mind. It was perfect. Just the direction a show like this needed. then he could add…yes…yes…
He scribbled along the margins.
It didn’t matter that they would be its only audience. Cass took all his productions seriously. Who knew, if it went well enough, maybe they could bring it to a larger audience later. The next year would be their last within the…relative safety of Hogwarts and maybe his last chance to really focus on such things for a while. The boy was well aware of what life outside the castle would entail. Having his name in lights wasn’t one of them. Not for a long time. Maybe not ever.
"The bloody curtain's stuck."
He barely heard her. Looking up from the script, the Ravenclaw was genuinely taken aback to see her wrapped around him seconds before she placed a kiss on his cheek. Had he said something romantic? He’d been known to ramble in mumbles while distracted.
"I really do think the third act is perfect as is."
Oh. Huh. He grinned wide, his mind finally pulling far enough away for him to join his girlfriend there in the RoR. “It’s about to be. Can’t believe I never saw this earlier.” As was often the case with drafts, sometimes it took a little longer for everything to really click in a way that left him satisfied. Reading over and over…and then over was a natural part of the process and for a boy who obsessed over his art as deeply as Cassian did, it was hardly any trouble for him.
Dark eyes followed her as she took centre stage. She never did let him make her a star, despite his many insistences that she’d be one of the brightest. Still a year left. Maybe he’d convince her.
“Scared?” Cass moved over to her, wrapping an arm around her and twirling her once before turning her to face the empty seats again. “Gorgeous, I was born to be a spectacle.” For better or for worse. “There’s nothing more thrilling.”
Leaning in, he planted a brief kiss on her neck. “It used to be terrifying, honestly, but even then, every time I did it…I dunno. The rush made it worth the terror.”
RE: The Archer | Rossian - Rosalie McCormick - 10-31-2025
“It’s about to be. Can’t believe I never saw this earlier.”
She smiled to herself, knowing it would be another three renditions at least before Cassian had it exactly the way he wanted. Rather than annoy her, as it might some others, it was a little quirk of his that she adored. His passion and tenacity for his art were part of what made being near him feel so special. It was like being let into a secret world that so few got to witness, and she was just honored to be a part of it.
She was glad that this part of him had never changed - or worse - left him entirely.
Rosalie giggled as he twirled her, falling back easily into his grasp, her back against his chest as she reached for his other arm to wrap both snuggly around her. She leaned her head back on his shoulder as he kissed her neck, relieved to have fallen back into this sweet rhythm that they'd had so often in their fourth year. It was here, in his theatre that she had truly fallen for the boy behind the curtain, and being in this space made her feel nostalgic. Safe. Happy.
She rolled her eyes in amusement, a smirk rising across her lips as she stared out at the empty audience. "You certainly were, love." A spectacle, a showman, a cad dressed up as a gentleman. Cassian was born for the theatre, and Rosie knew she'd do everything in her power to support his dreams once they left here. It'd be...difficult. Being away at Uni, especially if she and Cass didn't go to the same one would make it harder just logistically.
But she would, all the same.
“It used to be terrifying, honestly, but even then, every time I did it…I dunno. The rush made it worth the terror.”
"Yeah," she said softly, "I guess that's how I feel about Quidditch or roof jumping." Or anything else that got her heart racing. She turned to face him, draping her arms around his neck. "Still, you're much braver than I am." Her smile grew slightly.
"Are you at a stopping point? I thought maybe we could talk about some stuff. Things that we haven't really talked about yet." He hated talking. At least about hard things, despite his insistence that she always do so. But he'd promised they would try things her way, and...there was a lot of unresolved things she needed reassurance on.
RE: The Archer | Rossian - Cassian McCormick - 11-02-2025
Was there a sound sweeter than Rosie’s giggle? He doubted it. Ever since the first time that melody had assaulted the natural beat of his heart, Cassian had found himself nearly constantly chasing that high. There was something intoxicating about that giggle and the way it made him feel as light as a passing summer breeze. The boy wrapped both his arms around her, easily going along with her pull.
"I guess that's how I feel about Quidditch or roof jumping."
He laughed.
“Nah, gorgeous. What you feel is mania. They’ve got potions for that. I’m sure Ruth wouldn’t mind looking into a proper treatment plan for you once you’re ready to renounce this life of lunacy.”
Dramatic? Only a little.
“But I don’t know about that braver business. There’s really no outdoing you lot when you set your minds to it.” Jumping from roofs was hardly the most startling thing Rosie had or would ever do. There was a fire inside her that wasn’t easily put out. It was there in the earliest days when all he could get from her were coy smiles. There was always a fire smoldering inside those deep oceans of her. “You don’t see a problem when you see bludgers heading your way.”
Madness. Bravery. It was probably two halves of the same coin. What he did, dawning a mask and becoming someone else—if only for a short time—was much simpler. Cassian had always found it easier to be someone else.
"Are you at a stopping point?”
”I could be,” he replied, settling his hands at her waist once she turned to face him.
“I thought maybe we could talk about some stuff. Things that we haven't really talked about yet."
…He’d answered too soon.
It was a horrible habit when it came to her. With Rosie, Cassian’s guard was too often down and it had him running into situations like these where he committed before realizing he had exactly zero interest in what he was agreeing to. In this case, it was talking, which always went so well. The Ravenclaw still cringed at the memory of the last talk and the way it had nearly cost him his girlfriend. As a rule, he enjoyed hearing the inner machinations of her mind and diving into the parts of her that made her tick.
Himself? It was going to have to be the hardest pass from him.
”Uh…” His arms loosened but didn’t fall away.
Did he want to talk? To her? All the damn time. About things they “hadn’t really talked about yet”? It sounded like a disaster waiting to happen.
Cassian pulled at his composure, knowing that hesitation would only make it worse. This time, his hands did fall away as he moved over to the ropes Rosie had been tugging on earlier.
Stuck. Huh. It figured.
”Yeah, sure. Whatever you want. We can talk.” And he would just…um…ignore the horrible twisting in his stomach.
Was there something wrong with the lever up on the rafters?
RE: The Archer | Rossian - Rosalie McCormick - 11-03-2025
“Nah, gorgeous. What you feel is mania. They’ve got potions for that. I’m sure Ruth wouldn’t mind looking into a proper treatment plan for you once you’re ready to renounce this life of lunacy.”
"Never," she protested with a little shake of her head, "It's the nuthouse or bust for me, handsome. Life won't be complete until they have me in a straightjacket." She didn't know where her love for adrenaline rushes came, or when they began. Probably somewhere around the time she started playing Quidditch, if she really thought about it. The girl found freedom in the way the rush flushed over her skin and raced through her veins. She loved feeling her heart pounding wildly within her chest and the sense of freedom that took hold.
It was a natural high that she was constantly chasing, and now that Quidditch was on hold indefinitely, she was limited in her avenues to find it.
“You don’t see a problem when you see bludgers heading your way.”
"Not a problem at all if you know how to dodge them, McCormick." But before she could settle him into a comfy place on the stage with her, she felt his arms starting to loosen around her.
”Uh…”
No. No. She could see him shutting down in real time, before she'd even gotten the first sentence out. It - it wasn't supposed to be like this anymore. He'd promised. "Cass..." she said softly, her voice almost pleading as he dropped his hands from her and moved to the ropes to busy himself. She felt herself beginning to deflate already, realizing that maybe nothing had really changed.
”Yeah, sure. Whatever you want. We can talk.”
She remained quiet, watching him tug on the ropes and fuss with the curtain. No, she wasn't going to talk to him like this. He'd said things would be better, that he'd try. She couldn't force him to do anything or beg him. Cassian would either do it or he wouldn't. She'd said she was tired of this, and she'd meant it.
"I'll be backstage when you're ready then." She wouldn't try to talk to a distracted wall. She wanted his attention, fully. It didn't have to be a bad or a hard talk. She just...wanted to make sure he was alright. That they were on the same page with a lot of things and that they both knew how they wanted to move forward.
Those things were important to figure out, right? Especially in the wake of their near-breakup and then Professor Thayer's...insanity.
She crossed her arms over chest and headed towards the back. There were a few props she could work on while she waited.
RE: The Archer | Rossian - Cassian McCormick - 11-03-2025
…
Sigh.
It’d been such a good talk. They were laughing, things were light. There’d been sweet kisses and touches that grew fleeting. Cassian had taken solace in the banter that flowed freely between them while they worked, finding it as good a distraction as the play itself. He’d been on edge for most of the week, not fully recovering from the events of the prior weekend. There was a lingering malice in the air and a great deal of suspicion. If Thayer could’ve stayed under the radar so long then lost his ever-loving mind then how many more of the professors could still be hiding?
Not having classes had been nice, but it had been its own issue. Without classes to distract him, the Ravenclaw had had an unnerving amount of time to think. His mind ruminated, blending past and present until they’d become difficult for him to distinguish without the strongest concentration. That’s why he’d been so relieved to have the time working with Rosie.
And now they were…here.
They were here, she was disappointed again and walking away. He felt his stomach drop. Cass could’ve pretended to be clueless, to go on like he didn’t understand her sudden withdrawal and continue tugging at the stubborn ropes but…but he knew better, didn’t he? It was a continuation of the conversation they’d started out by the lake when he’d first returned to Hogwarts. She’d promised not to worry as much and he…well…he supposed he’d promised to talk, something he been deliberately avoiding all week.
He knew what he’d done.
She didn’t.
The boy had managed to convince himself that it wasn’t what she meant by talking—even now he was trying to talk himself down from the ledge of overreacting and getting himself into unnecessary trouble. He’d said he was willing to talk. Maybe…just maybe, that wasn’t what she wanted to talk about at all. Rosie had been terrified, clinging to him while they’d been locked in the great hall. If she needed to talk to him about it then his hesitation was unwarranted.
In the end, it was more wishful thinking.
As Rosie disappeared behind the curtain, Cass threw his head back, squeezing his eyes shut while he sucked in a deep breath. If he wanted her to start believing in him again, he’d have to get better at some point, wouldn’t he? Better at coping? Better at staying open?
“Fuck,” he breathed. He ran both hands through his curls and exhaled deeply. “Fuck.”
Straightening, Cassian followed the girl’s path, heading in search of her. Every muscle screamed otherwise, trying to remind him that breakups were going around the castle and people were committing to them. They were cautionary tales he’d rather avoid but the cycle would have to be broken at some point. He’d known exactly what he was doing last Saturday night and this was the natural consequence he’d tried to outrun.
He found her by the box of smaller light fixtures, rummaging as if she was actually trying to find something.
Wordlessly, he took her by the hand and tugged her back to her feet. Cassian tugged her in silence back through the curtain, down the steps and into the front row of the audience. “We can talk,” he said quietly, sinking into a seat and tugging her into his lap. Even after saying that, the silence returned, heavier than before.
He had to.
Cass fixed his eyes back on the stage, his face growing warm with the shame that overtook him.
“I took some potions on Saturday…and Sunday.”
RE: The Archer | Rossian - Rosalie McCormick - 11-03-2025
Rosalie of two years ago would have beat herself up for ruining the vibe. She would have sat in the uncomfortable feelings of having distracted the lightheartedness for something heavier and more important, wondering if she was becoming more of a killjoy for Cassian than someone he actively wanted to be around. For a girl who was an incorrigible people-pleaser, making things feel too burdened was something she'd actively avoided, preferring to bury her own feelings to protect everyone else's.
At the beginning of term, she'd reverted to this after Cassian's outburst over the pregnancy scare and Julia's revelation, deciding it was easier to just keep everything to herself and let him figure things out.
She had been willing to silence herself because her worrying had only made him spiral. He'd needed her to be strong, step back and just believe that he could handle everything.
Rosalie was done silencing her feelings for anyone - including him. His overdose had been a wake-up call for the girl who had been not quite content, but resigned, to leaving Cassian to himself and his own ruminations.
She wouldn't be cruel, ever, but if there was something she needed from him, she was going to tell him. She wouldn't chase him, but it would be up to him to meet her where she needed him to. And if he couldn't?
She hadn't gotten that far yet.
She settled in front of a box of lights, determined to not let his habit of pulling away from her bother her as much as it was. This...wasn't fine, but she would be, one way or another. She would figure her part out in all of this, with or without him and go from there. She'd meant it when she'd told him they needed to start over, and while they hadn't broken up like she intended, she had meant what she said. They needed to go back to the basics of really getting to know one another in this new reality they'd unwillingly carved out for each other.
He was there, taking her hand in his. He didn't say a word, pulling her gently to her feet. She tried to read him in the silence, but he was leading her from the backstage and out into the audience without a word.
“We can talk.”
She went easily into his lap, feeling his uneasiness in the quiet. Why was this so hard for him? They'd...gotten past all the hard stuff and come out the other side. This was just a talk to go over the littler details, but details that were important to her to be able to move forward. Why was he making this so hard -
“I took some potions on Saturday…and Sunday.”
Oh.
A long silence fell between them. Her eyes dropped to her lap as her head spun, trying to make sense of the words that caused a horrible ache in her heart.
Oh.
He was still using. He'd...he'd never said he wasn't, but she hadn't thought to ask. It was a given, she had assumed that after what had happened, he wouldn't try it again. She exhaled heavily, closing her eyes to try and wrap her head around it. Saturday and Sunday. Right after the kidnapping. She could feel him trembling in her arms when they sat in the Great Hall, could sense the way his anxiety was taking over him. He hadn't been able to manage it on his own.
"Okay," she said slowly, still not quite sure what to think. Benji had warned her over Christmas that when people did things like this, there was no quick fix. There was no 'loving someone' out of their vices, no matter how much they may have wanted it. It had to come down to the person struggling to fight their way through and find a way to be bigger than their demons. Cassian was still fresh out of all of that.
She opened her eyes, finally looking at him to see he was burning red, staring straight ahead at the stage. She could sense his...shame she thought it was, and all it did was make her hurt even more for him. "Hey," she said, her voice soft and easy, cupping his face gently. "Look at me."
When their eyes met, her expression softened. "I'm glad you told me." She kissed him, lingering for a moment before pulling back. "Telling me is a good thing. I don't want us to keep anything from each other. Even the scary things." Her thumbs brushed his cheeks softly and she swallowed hard. "I want to help you in any way I can. I'm not judging you. I love you, unconditionally."
She rested her forehead against his. "We'll figure this out together, no matter how long it takes."
RE: The Archer | Rossian - Cassian McCormick - 11-05-2025
It was the silence that could be heard around the world.
The entire theatre room fell still, not that it had much activity before, but there was certainly a noticeable...shift. In that silence, Cassian became acutely aware of everything else. The quiet thrumming of his heart amplified to the thundering beat of a war drum. He could feel his face and ears pulsing as blood continued to pour into them, lighting him up in a sea of dull crimson. The boy could feel every twitch and shift of Rosie's muscles as she fell into his lap, and he could hear the intentionality in her breathing.
This wasn't where he wanted to be, and this conversation wasn't the one he'd been trying to have. All that was made evident in the way his frame stiffened beneath her.
Cassian was bracing for further disappointment. The look she'd given him before walking away had been enough to twist his insides. There was nothing left to stand against a greater outpouring of the same. Rosie would have every right, too. He'd promised her better but had ended up, falling into the same old pattern. He'd known, even with the first swig, that he would hate himself after, but not even that had been enough to get him to put the vial down.
Now, he sat with that, with the realisation that even trying to be better hadn't been enough and that maybe he would never get it right. What happened then, when Rosie got tired of hearing that he couldn't help himself?
"Okay."
The word broke through the silence, but it only managed to exacerbate the already erratic thumping inside his chest.
Okay? Just...Okay? Okay, she was done? Okay, she needed more time? Okay, she--
"Hey. Look at me."
He couldn't.
Cassian felt her hands take hold of his face, but even then, it was another minute of silent staring toward the long, dubonnet curtains before dark eyes finally turned to take her in. The condemnation he braced to run into wasn't there, only those gentle oceans pulling him back to shore. His own expression softened, but the shame never left. He couldn't understand how she could keep looking at him like that...when he felt the way he did.
The kiss was the first real moment of relief, and Cassian clung to it like the drowning man he was. He leaned into it, kissing her with tempered desperation for as long as she allowed before pulling away. Cassian knew they needed words, and knew sweeping problems away with physicality only made them fester, but in those terrifying moments, even her lightest touches became a lighthouse.
Maybe it was a kind of selfishness, a thirst for comfort that went beyond fleeting words. Reassurance, it was all okay in the middle of the fire that hadn't yet been put out. Delicate sensibilities, perhaps. He needed to be attached to her, holding her, letting her anchor him until the storm passed.
It was likely another thing he needed to get better at. Passion wasn't a substitute any more than his potions were.
"We'll figure this out together, no matter how long it takes."
"What if we can't?" There was genuine fear in his eyes when he finally managed to ask. She'd just said she loved him unconditionally, that she would no matter what. But...if he always inevitably reached for a vial? If he reached for her body instead of her words every time he thought the world was ending? What then?
"I tried, gorgeous, I did." He'd paced his common room, made his way up onto the tower roofs, and tried reading. Nothing had helped the shaking and the terror that had flooded him. Nothing but...that.
RE: The Archer | Rossian - Rosalie McCormick - 11-06-2025
"What if we can't?"
Her sweet love.
A small smile appeared on her lips, even as she saw the fear in his eyes. "It might take a really long time," she admitted with a little nod, "It'll be hard, but you forget who we are together." She played with the collar of his shirt, letting her fingers brush lightly against his skin.
Blue oceans held their earthy shores as she tried to convey the determination behind them. She knew them, and believed in them wholeheartedly. There were times where Cassian was the one who held such convictions, and then there were times like these where it was she.
"I know we can. You're strong. And when you can't be, I'll be strong for you." She knew this wouldn't be the last time. If Cassian had fallen back into it so quickly after his overdose, then this was a bigger problem than maybe even he realized.
She could feel the ache moving slowly through her, wishing she could vanish everything that made him hurt, but in the absence of being able to, she could comfort him and make sure he knew she wasn't going anywhere.
"I tried, gorgeous, I did."
He was breaking her heart.
"I know my love," she said, running her hand along his face, before she sighed and nuzzled into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and laying her head on his shoulder. There was still that lingering fear, that maybe he would go too far again. That maybe his demons would be far bigger than his self-control, and what would she do then? "You'll keep trying. I won't let you give up." She would love him through it, no matter how long it took, no matter how many tries. Because what she had told Rae, held true for her in the deepest parts of her soul.
Loving someone meant more than just the happy moments. Love was what fought through the darker, scarier times and carried them through to the next sunbeam.
"Promise me something," she said, feeling his heart thudding against her chest. "Promise you won't hide it. And I promise not to run from it." It was an easy concession for her, especially if it meant she knew what he was doing. She didn't have to accept it, but she could understand this wasn't an easy fix and that what Cassian needed was support and encouragement, not condemnation and anger.
"Was it just Thayer, or was there something else that got to you?"
RE: The Archer | Rossian - Cassian McCormick - 11-06-2025
"It might take a really long time. It'll be hard, but you forget who we are together."
It already was hard. In the months after his overdose, when everything had calmed down, Cassian had let himself believe that it was as easy as getting caught and lectured, watching his not-dead mother cry, and nearly being broken up with for him to kick the habit he'd fallen into at the age of 11. Turned out, all it took was one bad night to show him just how full of it he was.
Did he stand a chance, a real one? Where he and Rosie were going, the road wouldn't get any easier.
His life was on the line, her future. In just over a year, Cass was gonna ask her to go with him, to forsake everyone she knew and the comforts and care that she'd grown up with, when he couldn't guarantee he'd be able to put the vials down for good.
"I know we can. You're strong. And when you can't be, I'll be strong for you."
She was strong. Probably the strongest girl he'd ever known. It was easier on his end, wasn't it? He didn't stand to lose as much as her with the choices they were making. He was heaping extra coals on with his ...choices, yet she kept staying.
Cassian melted with her affection, leaning into the hand that caressed his face before resting his head against hers when she settled against his shoulder. He wasn't sure if he was meant to, but already the boy was feeling...lighter. It wasn't a reprieve that he deserved, and he knew that, too. He deserved to sit with what he'd done in order to understand the gravity of what remained at stake. It probably wasn't alright, asking her to keep going through this, but how could he ever let her go? How could he ever decide he no longer wanted the sun's warmth?
If he couldn't let her go, then he had no choice but to try.
"You'll keep trying. I won't let you give up."
"I will." He no longer had a choice.
"Promise me something. Promise you won't hide it. And I promise not to run from it."
"I..." This, too, was no longer a choice. Until he could break himself away, it was the least he could do for the girl who had his heart and wasn't willing to let it go, even for the worst of him. "I will," he said again. He hooked his finger beneath her chin, tipping it up before kissing her. "I promise." Cassian kissed her again, seeking comfort to numb the edges of the panic that had begun rising.
"Was it just Thayer, or was there something else that got to you?"
He paused, unhooking his finger and letting her fall back against his shoulder, should she choose to.
In truth, Cassian hadn't tried to psychoanalyse his fall. His heart had been racing, his breath had been laboured, and he'd found himself unable to focus. Of course, he'd carried out his prefect duties and had done what he could to settle the younger ones, but the moment he'd been left unoccupied, no duties, no girlfriend, no distraction, he'd deteriorated...rapidly.
"I...I guess that must've had something to do with it. I dunno... I'd been fine--really fine, for months. But all that screaming...and when everything got real and it's not--" The boy paused, forcing in a deep breath. How did he say this without having Rosie circling back to thinking he'd never be able to handle what they had? How could he be vulnerable without her reading it as a fundamental weakness and wanting to draw back? "It's not that...it's...bad things are always gonna happen, y'know--and I know that, I just..."
He gave a long exhale, sinking down into the seat and resting his head against the back.
"I'll do better, I promise." That was what mattered, wasn't it?
RE: The Archer | Rossian - Rosalie McCormick - 11-07-2025
Rosalie wasn't idealistic anymore.
The past year and a half had beaten any idealism or notions of a fairytale right out of her. She had no illusions that real life was ugly and that love was far harder than anyone ever gave it credit. As a fresh fourteen year old, the girl had seen nothing but fireworks in Cassian's skies, exploding in reckless sparkles and vibrant colors. She had been swept up in the feelings of first love, completely enamored by Cassian and the way he made her feel like she was the only girl in the world.
She was still hopelessly in love with him and would follow him anywhere. But the colors that had once been vibrant around them had drained of all their life, leaving her in a state of gray. It wasn't his fault. The circumstances that had played out around them had traumatized both of them and stolen much of the joy they'd once shared. They still had their moments, little flickers of light that kept her holding on. She felt as though she were constantly grasping at the small moments that felt like them, telling herself that one day, when they'd worked through everything, that it'd go back to how it once felt.
And yet she knew. Fairytales were for children who didn't know any better. Who hadn't had their relationship scrutinized from every angle. Who hadn't nearly lost the person they loved twice. Who hadn't had to now try and fight yet another monster who kept threatening to steal the light right out of him.
"I will."
Her kiss readily met his, thankful he wasn't willing to give up and wanted to keep fighting. She believed in him, more than she'd ever believed in anyone. Her lips remained until he pulled back, promising that he wouldn't hide this from her anymore. She nodded before they kissed again, her hands raking softly through the curls she loved so much. She didn't want to lose him. Not to this - not to anything. She couldn't imagine not feeling him against her or hearing his voice telling her he loved her. She couldn't imagine never feeling his hand in hers, or see those brown eyes reflecting the beauty he saw in her.
"I...I guess that must've had something to do with it. I dunno... I'd been fine--really fine, for months. But all that screaming...and when everything got real and it's not--It's not that...it's...bad things are always gonna happen, y'know--and I know that, I just..."
She tilted her head slightly, trying to follow where he was going, but realizing he was beginning to spiral. It was enough. This wasn't what she had meant when she had said she wanted to talk. She had anticipated this being much lighter. A soft check-in and an easy chat about where they were going to go from here.
She hadn't known it would be...this. But here they were. And now that they were, she wanted to be supportive. That meant letting him be done when he obviously was. There was no point dragging this out and making him feel worse and bury himself deeper in his own mind.
"I'll do better, I promise."
She shushed him softly, before pressing her lips against his again. "Come on," she murmured against his lips, knowing instinctively what both of them needed. She loved him more than she could convey, wanted him more than she could tell him. Forgave him without him asking for it, and she wanted to be able to be his best friend again, not his interrogator.
She climbed off his lap, taking his hand in hers and tugged him gently back to the stage. Her free hand flicked in the direction of the radio sitting on the table, soft swing music drifting from its speaker. She tugged him to her, wrapping an arm around his neck. "Dance with me?" she asked sweetly, a smile crossing her lips as her free hand toyed with a button on his shirt. "We can go back to working on the play after this song."
She just wanted a moment with him.
RE: The Archer | Rossian - Cassian McCormick - 11-08-2025
For a boy who'd been very pro-conversations, and always toting the merits of even the hardest ones, Cassian was learning that he wasn't much of a fan of them for himself. It was easy listening to Rosie--or whoever--when they were being buried under the weight of whatever great struggle plagued them. By nature, Cass was a fixer. Give him a problem and he'd do everything he could to correct it. If he couldn't, he tried to make the person feel better until the circumstances could be changed.
When it was his turn?
He may as well be strung up by his ankles and left out in the Saharan sun to bake. It would be a more pleasant experience than having to sit there and admit to himself that this was only getting harder and harder. Despite being a hopeless romantic, Cassian had always remained practical. Even in the heights of everything they felt, the boy had always tried to remain grounded...until recently. It wasn't that he'd stopped seeing reason but that...he'd stopped feeling the ground beneath his feet. He was having a hard time keeping a grasp on reality and not feeling like everything was always spiraling.
Except in these gentle moments. Then he didn't need a floor.
Her kisses took him further from his spiral without him even noticing. It was easy to get lost in the tart taste of cherries, no matter how fleeting. Having his mind buzzing with something other than the memory of what he'd done was its own kind of magic. The breaks were needed. For a boy who lived so entirely in his head, remaining there for too long never did him any good, but on his own…he’d never really been able to bring himself back.
Suffice it to say, it hadn’t been hard for the potions to gain a stronghold.
Cassian went willingly when Rosie pulled him to his feet, not sure where they were going but never needing an explanation to follow her. She was the ground, the only one he could still feel.
"Dance with me? We can go back to working on the play after this song."
He couldn't help the smile that formed as he lowered his head to press his forehead against hers. "You're something else, you know that?"
Only Rosie would see him falling into his own abyss and decide it was the perfect time for dancing. Could he say she was wrong? As his arms wrapped around her waist, Cassian found himself unconcerned with the rest of the preparation that needed to be done for the play. All the edits, the light set up, he’d get back to them but they no longer held his focus. Nothing could hold a candle to those big beautiful blue eyes that shone up at him like he was something special.
He swayed them to the smooth rhythms that flooded the room before getting caught in the high ceilings.
“I can help you with those lights backstage after.”
Generous boyfriend that he was.
“While we’re getting distracted anyway.”
RE: The Archer | Rossian - Rosalie McCormick - 11-08-2025
Despite the heaviness that belied them, Rosalie couldn't help the sweet sensations that flooded her chest as his forehead came to rest against hers. He had a way of pulling her away from all of the conflicting emotions that tried to appeal to her better reason. His arms around her contradicted the sense of fear that lingered in the back of her mind, reassuring her of the safety she'd always known in Cassian. In moments when his heart thudded softly against hers it all still felt golden. She was sure if her friends knew, they'd tell her to open her eyes and see all the red flags for what they were.
She did. But she couldn't ignore the way she felt at home in his kiss. She couldn't see herself ever looking at anyone else the way she looked at him, or felt the same things for someone else that she felt for him. She would never believe her heart was capable of longing for someone the way it ached for Cassian, or that she'd want to fight for someone the way she fought for him.
She wasn't the shining light in this relationship while he was broken and in need of fixing. They were both fractured, both struggling to find their place in this world. They were clinging to each other in hopes of salvation, the other's lighthouse in the storm. There was nothing she wouldn't do for him, and she knew he'd go to the ends of the earth for her.
That was all that really mattered at the end of the day, wasn't it?
"You're something else, you know that?"
"So you've said," she replied softly, her smile meeting his own as she closed her eyes, letting the sounds of the music and the feeling of him against her carry her away into a softer place. They swayed together, as her fingers made it past his button, her fingertips lingering gently at the exposed bit of skin beneath his collarbone. When all was said and done, when everything felt so monumental and impossible, when Rosalie was certain things would only get harder before they got easier, they had this.
She was sure it was all she needed.
“I can help you with those lights backstage after. While we’re getting distracted anyway.”
Blue eyes fluttered open again, an easier smile spreading across her lips. What was it he said that day when they were arguing backstage, trying to decide if they were more than friends...?
Oh. Right.
"Fuck the lights," she murmured as she brought her lips to his again and tugged him with her behind the curtain.