«It came like a postcard. Picture perfect, shiny family, holiday, peppermint candy. But for him it's every day.»
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The constant buzz of a phone disturbed her, and she knew it came from her side by how close the sound was to her. She opened one eye first, trying to adjust to the light, then the other. Cassandra felt the weight of Sebastian's arm wrapped around her waist, and she peered at the embrace before turning her head to look at him deeply asleep. Her lips curved into a smile, he looked so peaceful, and then she remembered the phone. Trying not to move so much, she reached with her arm to grab the thing, and as she stared at the screen, all signs of sleep washed off her.
Hans is calling. He always had to ruin everything, Cassandra thought. She gripped the phone with one hand, and carefully tried to remove Sebastian's arm from her waist. It took a bit of effort but she managed to get free without waking him up. When she left the bed, he nudged himself into her spot, the buzzing of the phone stopped her from staring at him for too long.
Cassandra tiptoed her way out of his room, quietly closing the door behind her. She made her way downstairs in record time, despite almost stumbling on the last step. It wasn't her house, nobody could blame her.
"Hello?" She cleared her throat after hearing her own voice. It sounded raspy. What happened to not disturbing people on their days off?
"Cassandra." Hans sounded just as miserable as he always did. It was depressing. "Can you hear me?"
"Yeah, I can hear you. Sorry, I just woke up." She chewed on her lip and looked around. Fuck. Everything looked so beautiful. "Why are you calling me?" It sounded less impolite in her head. "I mean," Her face turned into a grimace. "You know what I mean. It's early on the weekend."
Not that she imagined Hans had a lot of fun in his personal life. Cassandra could perfectly believe he was put on this earth to make it difficult for other people. People like her for example.
"Cassandra." He repeated her name, this time using his usual miserable tone. She could even picture his face of despair. "I read your corrections for the first draft." A pause. He always did that. It was exasperating. Cassandra nervously moved to where the kitchen was, leaning against the counter. "I have a few words."
Of course, you do, you cunt, she thought. "I edited and added what you wanted. I thought it was fine."
"Yeah you did, but it's still..." Hans let the words hang in the air. Cassandra frowned. "Do you remember the piece you wrote for the French singer? Last year?" Oh no.
No, no, no. Her expression fell. "Yeah, I can recall." She said with hesitation, because she knew Hans and where the conversation was going.
The article about the French singer wasn't her proudest career moment. The guy had willingly talked to her hoping she would write an amazing piece about him and his career, and all she did was manipulate some of the information to make it seem more interesting. As per Hans' request though. Cassandra had to block the poor singer from everything because he kept threatening to sue her until he got tired and dropped the horrible article she had written about him. It was now just another forgotten piece in her collection.
"Well, I need you to do that with this one." Hans simply said. Like the maths were obvious.
"No." Cassandra shook her head, even knowing the man couldn't see her and her stern expression.
There was a heavy sigh from the other side of the line, and she could imagine him pinching the bridge of his nose. All unhappy and everything. The image was painted perfectly inside her brain because she had been witness to it on far too many occasions. Hans wasn't one to take no for an answer, that's why everyone at the magazine always did whatever he wanted them to do. No matter the public repercussions of it all.
"I'm not asking you if you want to do it or not, I'm telling you to do it." His tone was so sour and irked. "If you don't then I'm pretty sure someone like Jan wouldn't have any issue using the recording material you shared with me to pull together the kind of article I want."
Cassandra could murder him. She wanted to. The mere mention of the name Jan touched a nerve with her. And Hans knew that. The little feud between them wasn't unfamiliar to everybody at the magazine, and he knew he could take advantage of that to get a reaction out of her. The sudden sound of someone walking downstairs distracted her, but she knew Hans was on the other side awaiting her answer. Sebastian's loud jawn prompted Cassandra to turn to him as he approached the kitchen. He smiled at her, and just winked at the sight of her talking on the phone.
She swallowed hard. "Don't." Her gaze flickered to Sebastian. "I can—I will do it the way you want it."
"Thank you for collaborating, Cassandra," Hans told her. She bit the inside of her cheek so hard it hurt. "We'll keep in touch."
"Sure." Sebastian downed a glass of water and folded his arms over his chest, attentively looking at her. "Thanks for the feedback." She said with bitterness hanging from her tone. It might've not been noticeable for the German, but she was sure Hans could pick up the hint. He knew her well enough.
There were no pleasantries or courtesies exchanged when the call ended. Cassandra just slowly put the phone away from her ear. Sebastian walked over to her, trapping her between the counter and him, his hands holding onto the surface of the counter behind her. She looked at him, and he smiled. By default she smiled too, trying to forget for a moment that Hans even existed in the same dimension they did.
"Was that your boyfriend?" He joked, pressing his body to hers.
Her arms found their way around his neck. "Wouldn't you like to know?" Sebastian chuckled. "It was," She pursed her lips in a sign of distaste, or what she hoped looked like it. "It was the editor of the magazine." She didn't want to get into more detail. "Nothing important...good morning."
Sebastian scanned her face and gave her a dopey smile. "Good morning to me." Cassandra gently pulled the hairs at the nape of his neck. He complained with a funny grunt. "How did you sleep?"
"Germans are very hospitable apparently. They let you sleep in their bed and everything, wow." He placed a hand on her waist and squeezed. "Brits could learn a thing or two, I guess."
"I'm open to learning everything about British culture. Very open." His suggestive notions were very charming, which filled her with curiosity because she would never find that cute from anyone else. "Wait," Something seemed to flash in his mind. "You told me something about your mom not being English, didn't you? On the day of the interview. I remember."
Her stomach dropped, but she tried to maintain a neutral expression. Cassandra let go of him and shrugged one shoulder. As if pretending she didn't care. "That's not important." She deeply hoped her voice didn't sound as strangled as she felt.
Sebastian eyed her with curiosity, and Cassandra avoided his gaze, looking past him at the big glass door in front of her on the other far side of the room. She spotted a pool, not too big, but not too small. He opened his mouth to say something, probably related to her change, but she was faster and interrupted him before he could gather his words.
"You have a pool." Cassandra pointed out, nodding at where her eyes were focused.
His gaze switched to follow her attention, then back at her. "I do, yes. I thought I showed it to you yesterday." She shook her head. The thing about her mother still lingered in his mind, but he could spare her for a bit. "Do you want to go in?" He pointed at it with his finger.
Her eyes widened. "I didn't bring appropriate clothes for that."
He looked down at her body with the less discretion possible. Cassandra scoffed. "You don't really need appropriate clothes for the pool." Sebastian took a step back, putting some space between them. He grabbed her hand. "After breakfast, we go into the pool. Fun time." His face broke into a grin.
She followed him as he talked about breakfast, his lack of culinary skills and what they could eat. Cassandra was barely paying any attention, it was quick to discover she really liked his ramblings. She felt at ease.
Everything was alright.
—-
She blocked the light with her hand as she sat at the edge of the pool, her feet swinging inside the water. Cassandra dripped from head to toe as Sebastian still swam under the cold water of the pool. She stared at his silhouette under the clear layer, waiting for him to come back to the surface. The sudden sound of a ping from her phone laying next to her forced Cassandra to take her eyes away from Sebastian. She could make out Abigail's name on the screen as she stared down at the little device.
Abigail: How's your little and humble date going?
Cassandra huffed.
Abigail: Or he really kidnapped you and I should call the MI6 for your rescue?
The water under her moved and Sebastian emerged from it, his hands landing on her thighs for support. Cassandra briefly looked at him as he tried to move the hair out of his eyes and remove any trace of water obscuring his vision. It brought her little memories of the pictures she'd seen in Monaco the first time she looked him up.
"My best friend wants to know if you're kidnapping me so she can call the MI6 to make sure I get home safe and in one piece." She said with a humorous tone.
He crossed his arms over her legs and rested his chin on them, looking up at her. "Tell her she's going to need more than the MI6 to get you back to England. Whatever the MI6 is." Sebastian grinned. "Tell her she doesn't need to worry about you."
"I think she's more worried about you." Cassandra pointed at him.
Sebastian gaped. "So you did kill someone." He feigned terror and surprise all at once.
She just splashed some water on him with her free hand and chuckled before typing a proper answer for Abigail.
Cassandra: No need for the MI6, chances of getting kidnapped by a famous Formula 1 driver are very little, I think. And it's going alright, haven't broken his heart if that's what you're worried about
Her friend's reply was almost immediate.
Abigail: Very good :)
The phone got discarded again. Not that Abigail really needed to know she was alive, but it was nice of her to remember her, and it was good that this was probably the first time Abigail tried to get in touch with her without worrying about Cassandra's bad habits and questionable coping mechanisms. They were advancing.
She fixed her eyes on Sebastian, he was already staring at her thoughtfully. Her hand reached to trace his features with her fingertips, much like he had done with her. His lips were cold, most likely due to the water, and he looked so peaceful. The feeling inside of her, she wanted to bottle it and keep it in case she had a need for it to feel better any time in the future.
"So," Sebastian started. His fingers drew circles on her skin from where he still held onto her. "Can we talk now?"
Cassandra brushed his lower lip with her thumb. "About?"
"You." There was a bit of hesitation, but she knew he wanted to say something more. In the end, he kept going. "Your family as well. Maybe." There was a level of assurance in the way he smiled.
Her hand pulled away from him almost instinctively, and she blinked. One thing, she thought, was talking about it with someone like Abigail. Even Gareth when she was quite drunk and high. Doing so with someone like Sebastian was something completely different, or at least she felt like it. It wasn't one of those topics people just randomly talked about it, or she guessed some did. Parents and family were very popular stuff to talk about when getting to know someone. It was just a tad bit different for her, considering how the story went for her parents.
The silence was loud. Cassandra cleared her throat. "You tell me about your family." She countered.
Sebastian didn't look impressed. "Okay." He nodded. She probably could find everything about it on the internet but if she wanted some sort of encouragement he could start. "My parents are both from Germany, my dad worked as a carpenter and my mom has always looked after me and my siblings. I have three siblings, two older sisters and a younger brother." He smiled, feeling quite proud. "All of them always supported me with racing, my dad has always been an enthusiast so it was nice to grow up with the support."
"That's cute." She felt something akin to pressure in her chest. "I can see the love for your family in your face." Sebastian took her hand and she knew that meant he was trying to make her feel comfortable. Cassandra sighed, deeply. "My dad was a writer, as I told you before. He wrote about his life most of the time, about love too. People liked him. He died when I was nineteen." He squeezed her hand. Cassandra felt herself sinking. "My mother, she..." There was a chuckle full of irony. "She was an artist, a painter, according to my dad. Or she still is, I don't know. She gave up custody of me when I was born so I never truly met her, just some pictures of her my dad always kept."
The version she knew of her mother was her dad's version of her. And it didn't take her a lot to understand she couldn't trust that. Perhaps that was where all her resentment for her came from because she never pictured her as the good woman her father believed her to be.
"I don't have any siblings, for obvious reasons." Her dad never loved after her mother. She always thought that was a pitiful way to end. "Their story was a bit too complicated, so he pretty much ghosted his entire family for her." And that ended just as well as it had begun. "So yeah, that's the story. It's not as cute as yours but you know what they say about artists matching their talent with their tragedy." Cassandra joked.
In some kind of way, it felt good to let it out. And there was no sign of forced sympathy on Sebastian's face, which she gratefully appreciated. After her father died, all she got from people was that, and Cassandra simply hated it. There was no need to make someone feel like their life had to resemble the pitifulness it was seen with.
"Thank you for opening up to me." His eyes were shining. "You know, I bet your dad would've wondered why a smart girl like you would be with a racing driver like me." He smiled, and Cassandra smiled as well. The thought of it was sweet.
"No, no." She shook her head. "I'm sure he would've loved you. He was very fond of people, especially if he knew they were good people. And I think he would've known you're one of the good ones." Perhaps he would've loved him because he had the chance to make her a better person.
She couldn't explain it, but she had a hunch that things would be like that.
"Actually," Cassandra continued and pressed her lips together to avoid laughing. "He would've felt pretty inspired by those Formula 1 team radios. You guys are practically poets on that."
"You're so funny today, I see." He narrowed his eyes.
He pushed away and splashed water towards her. Cassandra raised her hands in the air to cover herself from his attacks until he decided to stop. His hands found their way to her thighs again, and she gave him a little bit more space so he could squeeze his way in between there. Sebastian placed a kiss on her skin before getting comfortable again and looking up at her. Her cheeks were red.
A reminder came to him. "What about your best friend?" He gestured with his head at the phone laying next to Cassandra. Gladly still dry despite his previous attack.
"Oh, Abigail." Her smile grew wider. "She's family, that's right. We met at university, and well, she's like a sister to me. The closest thing to one, even when she gets a bit motherly sometimes." Which she could appreciate. "There's also Gareth, the photographer from the magazine who did the shoot for the article." Sebastian nodded in acknowledgement. Gareth was nice. "We met when I did my internship for the magazine, and he was just a great guy with me. I'm very fond of him as well. You could say they're my version of family."
It was nice to see her like that, with her guard down and open to him. There was a glint in her eyes, and easiness in the way she carried herself. It wasn't a different version of her, he liked all of them, but she definitely looked happier, and that was something that mattered. Sebastian liked to believe that he could achieve that, to get that spark from her if she ever talked about him the same way she talked about her friends and her father. He wanted to make her feel that good.
He was doing a pretty good job so far, according to Cassandra at least.