It took a while before Cassian drove off. His thoughts were clouded in guilt and annoyance, distracted by Lisa's parting words. His hands were guiding the wheel through streets he knew too well; turns memorised without thought, routes etched into muscle memory. He noticed where he was only when the building came into view.
Elias's apartment.
"Fuck," Cassian muttered.
He should turn around. He had told himself firmly, repeatedly that this was a bad idea, that Elias had made his boundaries clear. That whatever strange, maddening tension had existed between them was not something he was allowed to touch again.
But he had to see him.
He had to know what Elias was thinking, telling Nico to stay away, pulling back so abruptly after they'd agreed to act normal. After Cassian had convinced himself that the distance would ease the yearning.
