Author’s Note: I was inspired by last week’s chapter of ACOR when Cassius offers his old armor to the fire at Vulcania. It was a truly touching moment between him and Lucia, where she notes all the dents and dings in his armor from battle. This is a little angsty and tragic adaptation from that moment.
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The early morning sunlight filtered in with the breeze, swaying the gauze draperies along in the wind. I always felt I could see things more clearly at this time of day, the clean light and fresh eyes leaving little to deception or interpretation. And it was at this time of day, after our desire had been sated and our bodies had been rested, that I enjoyed with Cassius the most. In these honest, unadulterated hours of the morning, we were allowed to just be us.
I had awoken first this morning, my eyelids fluttering open slowly, gradually focusing on the firm planes of his chest I was so comfortably nestled into. I gently tilted my head back to peer at his face, careful not to disturb his slumber, relishing this private moment to study my lover up close. Any stranger on the street could determine how beautiful Cassius was at just a glance, his tall broad figure and piercing greenish-hazel eyes under a tumble of chocolate curls made him hard to disregard. But the things I found most intriguing were the things unseen by the naked eye, the tiny details that no one got to see but me. The light dusting of freckles across his nose and cheeks that curled up to the corners of his eyes. The subtle crease between his eyes from where his brows furrowed when he was deep in thought. His dark lashes that curled at the ends, trembling with his eyelids in his sleep. The tiny scar that cut into his left brow, barely visible except at a close distance such as this.
Instinctively I raised my right hand, one finger delicately extending to trace the tiny mark before my drowsy mind could think to stop. I felt him stir at my touch, his eyes blinking slowly until they found me, a soft smile forming on his lips. He lifted his hand to grasp mine, bringing my fingertips to his lips to press light kisses there.
“I didn’t mean to wake you.” I apologized, only half sorry to have him now awake with me. These moments were far too fast and fleeting, and not often enough due to our other engagements.
“I am always happy to wake up beside you.” He whispered dreamily, as if he could read the very thoughts in my mind. He laid my hand on his chest, then laced his fingers in my hair, his lips meeting mine halfway for a languid morning greeting. While his kisses always stirred something inside of me, sending waves of heat to settle deep within my belly, these morning kisses were different. I could feel the pure affection in his touch, hear the wonder in the soft noises at the back of his throat, echoing everything I was feeling as well. When we finally parted, his lips still held that same soft smile. “Were you watching me as I slept?” He asked playfully.
A light giggle escaped my mouth, my hand again reaching up to trace the small scar. “I was admiring your scar here. How did you get that?”
Cassius chuckled, shifting beside me to prop himself up on his elbow, his gaze focused on me still curled up in the covers. “That one … is a rather humiliating tale. I was just a boy, nine or ten. Some of the larger boys in school were making fun of my sister, calling her names. I went to reason with them to defend her honor, but they chose to use fists over words. I was not prepared.” He absentmindedly rubbed the small mark, a wistful smile on his lips. “That was when I first realized the need to develop both strength of my mind and my body. So I would always have the upper hand with those that favored violence over dialogue.”
“That seems a very wise goal of a boy of such a young age.”
Cassius shrugged, his face dropping as he considered my statement. “Perhaps. It was merely a defensive measure. I know my methods are not the preference of most men.”
My gaze fell to his chest, following as my fingers lightly trailed over the firm muscles he referenced as his measures of defense. Settling on a crooked smooth line on his shoulder, I lifted myself to my side to peer more closely. “And what is this one from?” My brows knitted with concern as I studied the long jagged scar, most definitely a result of something far more dangerous than a childish fight.
“Carrhae.” His voice was gruff, his eyes staring off into some horizon far away and long ago.
“I’m sorry. I did not mean to pry.” I said meekly, fearing that I had pushed him too far.
When his eyes came back into focus, there was a softness there as he turned to me. “No. No, Lucia … you could never pry anywhere that I would not want to share.” His smile was weak, but present nonetheless.
“Was it extremely painful?” I inquired, my gaze flitting over his, desperate to understand his reluctant tongue.
Cassius cupped my wandering hand in his, squeezing it gently as he spoke. “It hurt, yes … it was a ghastly wound. I feared it would never stop bleeding.” He lifted my hand, placing a soft kiss to my palm before laying it on his chest beneath his own. I could feel the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat against my fingertips, the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. There was a confession in his eyes as I met his stare, the errant rays of sunlight dancing across the hazel hue. “But in my life I have found the wounds that hurt the most are the ones we cannot see.”
I didn’t have to ask him what he meant, for I already knew. It was a pain I understood all too well. So instead I leaned over to kiss him, allowing my lips to tell him everything I felt without a single word, melting into each other once again that morning.
For it would be far too soon that I would have to leave again, reopening that same wound hidden under the surface that neither one of us would allow to heal.
END