Forever and Always

3 - Opening Up

Varian's retreat from the garden was a blur. Each joyous laugh and clinking goblet from the ongoing party felt like a hammer blow to his already bruised ego. Cassandra's words, though kind, echoed in his head – a double-edged sword of encouragement and friend-zoning.

He practically burst through the door of his room, slamming it shut with a resounding thud that rattled the vials on his cluttered workbench. Reaching his bed in three long strides, he flung himself onto the mattress, burying his face in a well-worn pillow.

A muffled scream erupted from his lips, a mixture of frustration and a touch of teenage angst. He wanted to impress Cassandra, to show her the depths of his feelings, not his scientific shortcomings. The image of the spectacularly botched supernova filled his mind's eye – a metaphor, he realized with a groan, for his entire evening.

"Ugh, Varian, you colossal alchemist dunce!" he yelled into the pillow, his voice muffled by the soft fabric. "Who tries to woo a princess with a fake exploding universe? You couldn't even follow your own experiment instructions!"

He punched the mattress in a fit of pique, sending a cascade of plushie Ruddigers tumbling off the bed. The sight, usually a source of amusement, only served to deepen his frown.

Suddenly, a mischievous glint sparked in his eyes. Maybe, he thought, the evening wasn't a complete disaster. Sure, the universe-in-a-jar had gone rogue, but Cassandra's words echoed in his heart – her praise for his loyalty, his compassion, his pure heart. Maybe those were the qualities that truly mattered to her, not some flashy scientific spectacle.

With a newfound determination, Varian sat up, wiping a tear of frustration from his cheek. He wouldn't give up. He'd show Cassandra who he truly was, not through grand gestures, but through his actions, his unwavering support, and maybe, just maybe, a few well-calibrated (and hopefully non-explosive) scientific creations.

He glanced at his workbench, a spark of inspiration igniting in his mind. Perhaps, a gift for Cassandra, something personal, something that captured the essence of their unique friendship – a friendship that, he dared to hope, might blossom into something more. With renewed purpose, Varian reached for his tools, a mischievous glint back in his eyes. After all, even failed supernovas could spark a brilliant idea.

The rhythmic clinking of glass vials against each other echoed through Varian's room, the sound punctuated by the occasional frustrated sigh or muttered curse. Sleep was a distant memory, replaced by an all-consuming obsession. On his workbench, a tangled mess of wires, beakers, and strange contraptions spoke of a mind in overdrive.

Varian hadn't slept since the party debacle. Cassandra's words, though kind, had thrown him into a whirlwind of emotions. The frustration of his failed attempt mingled with a newfound determination. He wouldn't win her over with exploding universes, he realized, but with something genuine, something that showcased his intelligence and creativity in a way that resonated with her.

His current project was a testament to this newfound resolve. It was unlike anything he'd attempted before, a delicate fusion of science and sentiment, a challenge that pushed him to his mental limits. He envisioned a creation that captured the essence of his bond with Cassandra – a balance between their contrasting personalities.

His creation was centered around a single, pearlescent cassandrium crystal, the element he'd discovered and named after her. He meticulously crafted a device that would project an ethereal light from the crystal, a light that would shift and change depending on the surrounding environment. Calmness would trigger a serene blue glow, while action would spark a fiery orange.

The plan was ambitious, bordering on foolhardy. Varian encountered problem after problem, each failed experiment leaving him covered in smudges and frustration. He muttered apologies to Pascal, his chameleon companion, who watched with wide, unblinking eyes from a safe distance.