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❝ickle wickle cassandra❞
After spending the whole day with Tristan trying to control wind, Cassandra was exhausted.
It was much more difficult to control wind than it was to control water since there was no physical object that she could envision, so she had to imagine what impacts would be caused by the wind instead.
It took a lot longer to create even a gust of wind, but once she had started to do it a few times, then she managed to do larger, stronger winds.
The butterflies ended up following Tristan, Dean and Cassandra home and eventually they left them as the three people reached the house.
"I'm gonna do some training downstairs," Cassandra smiles at Tristan and Dean. "Thank you for today."
"It's fine," Tris smiles as Cassandra gets a drink from the fridge for while she's down there. He watches by the ajar kitchen door. "Want some company whilst you're down there?"
"No, thanks," she replies, giving Tristan a quick hug and noticing Dean had already disappeared upstairs. "Shout me when the food is ready."
"Of course."
Tristan leaves Cassandra to make her way down to the basement and set up what she wanted. She had mastered the art of punching in the past few days, sometimes with the help of Brad, but not often.
The boys had explained to her that after she'd managed to control fire and earth, that they'll start training her with the weapons because she didn't need to use them as much and weren't a priority.
She walks down to the basement, seeing that the light is already on and hearing the heavy breathing of someone else. She assumes it is Brad, and she's right as she reaches the bottom of the stairs and sees Brad punching a bag repeatedly, sparks flying off whenever his fist connected with the bag.
He was getting all of his anger out. Over the past few days, tension has been high between Tristan and Brad and it was putting everyone on edge. Brad felt the only way he could get all his emotions across was by punching something, and it was seeming effective as he repeatedly punches the bag.
Cassandra stands and watches, amazed by how effortlessly Brad managed to sway the bag from side to side with every hit.
He stops moving for a second, holding the punching bag to stop its wild movements before letting out a sigh, "did you want something or do you just enjoy staring at me?"
She gulps, closing her eyes as he turns around and his torso is on show. She felt bad if she stared at his exposed chest and keeps her eyes clenched shut.
"Uh, I came to do some training, actually."
"Okay," he hums, amused that she refused to look at him before grabbing a towel and wiping away the sweat.
"Have you got a shirt on yet?" She asks quietly and he chuckles, grabbing a shirt and putting it on quickly. "Hello? I know you're still here, I can hear your heartbeat."
He rolls his eyes, "yes, I've got a shirt on. Open your eyes."
She opens one eye first to make sure he wasn't lying and eventually opens them both, pursing her lips and waiting for him to leave. It doesn't take him long to get his stuff and go and instantly, Cassandra is ready to do some punches and kicks.
Her kicks were no where near as powerful as her punches but soon she felt the adrenaline pumping through her veins and the power was increasing with every kick she threw.
Suddenly, a hand grabbed the back of her shirt and she was pulled backwards away from the bag and and slammed to the ground, causing a sharp pain to go through her body as she lets out a groan.
She looks up to see Brad standing over him, blocking her view of anything else, "what the fuck?"
Connor had told Brad to help Cassandra in the basement with her training and so when Brad walked down and saw how much she had improved in such a little space of time, he couldn't help but provoke her.
"You're improving," Brad says, helping her up. "Do you think you could actually win against me?"
"I'm not fighting you," she huffs, rolling her eyes. Brad watches her as she takes down the punching bag, a frown on his face because he expected her to accept his challenge.
"Why not?"
"Because I'm finished now," she explains. "And I'm tired, and I'm starting to wonder if I'll even make it up the flight of stairs to my room."
"You didn't seem tired before I came," he counters, his eyebrows raised and she sighs, turning around and rolling her eyes.
"Well, now I am," she replies, both of them surprised by her new-found confidence. Brad actually found it rude how she was talking to him since he didn't realise that's how he usually speaks.
He clenches his fists as she turns around after putting the bag away and prepares to take her bandages off. He swipes her legs from underneath her, causing her to lose her breath at the surprising fall.
"What the heck?!" She shouts, standing herself back up and pushing him away from her. She was annoyed that he thought he could just push her around like she was some toy.
He smirks as he moves back a couple of steps from her push, happy that he got a reaction out of her. A violent reaction.
"What's wrong? Did I make ickle wickle Cassandra upset?" He continues to provoke her and she rolls her eyes, turning around and trying to get her stuff and leave before this actually escalates into a fight.
"Just piss off," she mumbles quietly and she hears Brad walking closer. "I'm not in the mood."
Brad stops right behind her, grabbing her wrist and spinning her around before pinning her against the wall with his arm at her neck.
"Get off," she strangles our as she grasps on to Brad's arm to get him off of her. He just wants her to fight back, and if that meant he'd have to continue being violent then that's what he would do.
She kicks at his legs but there's no power behind them and she can't think straight to get her legs to even reach him. She gives up and tries to pull his arm off of her neck as she begins to stop breathing properly but his grip is like iron and she feels so lightheaded.
She closes her eyes and tries to find the energy to breath properly and get out of his grip but she can't, she felt so weak. She didn't even feel the tears rolling down her face as her hole body starts to go numb.
Brad gets pulled back and she lets out a gasp of air, her hands on her neck as she tries to get her breath back.
"What the fuck?!" Tristan shouts, slamming Brad to the ground, causing the floor to shake. "What do you think you were doing?"
Brad didn't even look phased as he looks up at Tristan, "I was trying to provoke her and fight her so that her skills could get better."
"By strangling her and almost choking her to death?!" Tristan yells, beyond frustrated with the curly haired boy. Connor was knelt besides Cassandra, helping her concentrate on breathing instead of choking on her tears.
"I guess," Brad replies, Tristan's hand pushes his chest down so that he stays on the floor but Brad grabs it and flips their positions so that Tristan was lying on the floor and Brad was knelt besides him.
"Brad, stop this violence," Connor pleads. "Save it for when we need to fight, not on each other."
Brad simply lifts his foot up, taking a glance at Cassandra before strolling out of the room, feeling no guilt whatsoever.
