Frankly My Dear, All's Fair in Love and War

15: No Language of Love

p.s: Desmond's POV coming next chapter!

Chapter 15: No Language of Love

Cassie never liked mirrors. Full body mirror, even more so. It just so happened that most people liked seeing pleasant things, and to her, how she looked had never been anything more than a long, resounding 'ehhh'.

Not tonight, though.

She stared at herself. She looked at her face, her shoulders, her legs. She noticed her curves, twirled and watched how her body moved. She hadn't spent so much time in the mirror before, and she was mildly surprised that there was nothing there that upset her dearly.

'Might be hard to keep up the charades.' Tristan had said.

Tristan, with his devilish smile and his warm brown eyes. Tristan, with his mop of black hair that always looked messy. Tristan, who had been feeding her and talking to her and being the nicest person anyone had ever been.

Tristan, her pseudo boyfriend.

The word 'boyfriend' spurred heat towards Cassie's face. She covered her face with both hands, trying to keep the impending screech out. When the giddiness didn't subside, she flopped onto the bed, her feet kicking the air. Nobody had ever said something quite so romantic to her. And even though the proprietor of her words wasn't someone she particularly wanted or even liked, it was still flattering.

After about an hour rolling around her bed and refraining herself from posting about this Big Celebration on a forum, she finally looked at her phone.

There was another text from Desmond.

'I'm in front of your house.'

Cassie couldn't breathe. She read the text again. And again. And again, until she could convince herself that this was real. Desmond hadn't gone back to school after the very unfortunate lunch, and everybody just assumed that he had a business-related emergency; that wouldn't be the first time it happened.

But the text was still there, and Cassie was still reading it and it had been sent over 45 minutes ago.

And now her phone started ringing.

"Where are you?" the voice was Desmond's.

Cassie chewed on her lips. She wasn't used to talking to the phone! Chatting, yes. And sometimes, she would even send pictures to Tyra or Tristan or Tracy. But there was an implicit rule to not actually use the phone to talk, of all things. That was why chatting in various mediums were invented, for God's sake!

"I-I'm at my room," Cassie tested her voice. It sounded weird and Cassie hoped that she didn't just completely deter him by actually picking up the phone.

"Is this some kind of your power play? You keep me waiting for more than half an hour?"

Desmond didn't sound pissed. He didn't even sound like he was angry. In fact, his tone was extremely neutral, like how a person should sound when he was telling another person to buy him a carton of milk. Desmond's lack of reaction beseeched confusion. Cassie knew how to handle an angry person, or a disappointed person, or even a hysterical person.

But when someone wouldn't let her know how he felt, she blanked.

"Ah, s-" she stopped herself from saying 'sorry'. "I just didn't see your message, that's all."

"So?"

"So what?"

"Are you going to come down and see me?"

This was such a far cry to how Tristan actually meeting her. He barged right into her room and just waited for her there. Desmond won a point by actually waiting outside of her house.