S a l e t é I V

XL - Creux - Quatorze

Cassia didn't say anything. She couldn't. 

All that she could do was take in the damage. The sight of his legs protruding from behind that corner. Motionless. Still. Dead.

Monet.

She was exhausted, her eyes closed. She was slouched back as she tried to regain some semblance of reality. 

Cassia had an urge unlike anything, an urge to rush to her side, an urge to fling herself into her arms, not knowing who would benefit from the contact more, not knowing if Monet would even want it, not knowing if -

She didn't care, she just had to be in her arms, she had to be, she couldn't not be, she had to be there, she had to...

When Monet finally began to stir, she first looked in Cassia's direction, her first thought as she started to return to her senses purely of her, the sight of her still tied to the beam filling her with purpose again.

She pushed herself along until she was able to find her feet, the girl in red lowering herself gently to her knees once she was at Cassia's side, trying to undo the bonds that had immobilised her for what felt like an excruciating eternity. 

She didn't get far, but she was able to move aside again, thinking of and finding the knife that had been tied uselessly to Cassia's leg until then, utilising it to cut through the wires at last.

Cassia fell into her arms. Monet held her as tightly as she could. 

The silence returned, unbroken until Cassia's fear finally left her, a relief akin to nothing she'd ever felt delivering the final blow. 

She had never been so thankful for anything in her life, her grip on the older girl as strong as it could possibly be, Monet stroking the back of her head in impossibly soft motions whilst they shared such closeness.

"Are you okay...?"

Monet's voice was beautiful, even when scarred with so much weariness.

Cassia could do naught but nod weakly yet quickly, Monet moving back for a while so that she could look at her face, reaching up to hold her cheeks, to see for herself if she really was unscathed, her own relief pouring in as she took in the truth.

Monet looked so scared. So unsure. So sad.

An attentiveness suddenly came to Cassia. 

She reached down, carefully taking a hold of Monet's hand, turning it so that she could look at the injury that had been caused when she'd grabbed the chisel. 

A cut was present across the palm, not especially deep, though imbued with a stinging aura, the sight of it causing her gaze to drop. She looked up at her again, not knowing what to say to try and comfort her, not knowing if she could shift the pain.

She hugged close again, Monet as content to hold her there again as she had been the first time.

"I'm so sorry Cassie... I'm sorry..." She muttered weakly as she accepted her, such words bringing her young friend a gentle confusion. 

Monet began to softly rock her back and forth as she buried her face in her hair, the motions gentle. Steady. Loving.

Monet was shaking. 

Cassia held on as best she could, her remaining strength solely dedicated to her. Perhaps, somehow, doing so would force all of the strife out.

"I didn't think..."

Cassia wasn't going to listen to attempts at an apology that didn't have to be made. 

When she moved so that she could look at Monet again, the tiredness that was carved into the older girl's face was one that had been there long before the events of that day, only now it was free to emerge, her strength waning to the degree that she could no longer conceal it.