A lesser woman might have cowered, flinched from his raised voice, but all it did was burn against the precipice of her own anger, as always, Cassie was much too caught up in her emotions around Fletcher to curb any kind of reaction. “How it that my problem? How is any of this my problem? You did it, you agreed, you made the fucking wager, you knew I’d hate it, but you did it anyway.” Ergo; not her problem if he couldn’t handle her reaction. “I’m perfectly fine without you playing fucking hero, always have been.” And really, was this how friends acted? Cassandra hadn’t made a point to keep all that many in her life, much more inept to throwing them aside when she got what she wanted, one way or another. You can’t get over the fucking past. Her features all but dropped completely, the blonde almost entirely shocked by the fact that he thought she’d be over it. “Because it fucking hurt!” She erupted, little care to how her voice broke against the sliver of truth that finally breached the surface, “You left and it was my fault, and it really fucking hurt, Fletcher. –.” The sinking feeling that had followed the conversation; or better yet, the argument they’d had before he’d walked out and stayed gone for three years never really left her, the idea that she’d inadvertently driven away someone she hadn’t intended to lose cut her so deeply that even now she wondered how long it’d be before he walked out again. Hands curled into the fabric of her dress to stop fingernails digging half moons into the palms of her hands, to stop the slight tremor she felt from anything but the chill in the air. She should have known he’d bounce back – he always did, and as he towered over her again, she did little more than look right through his chest, chewing at the inside of her cheek, the stupid crown pressed in against his chest, “Take it.” Whether he did or not, she didn’t care, her fingers slipped free of the plastic as she stepped away from him, “Don’t forget to gloat.”
His pride had gotten in his way once again --- and apparently between them as it had the last time he left East End. He knew the blame game would come into play, hell it always did with them. Words would be slung before fingers pointed and perhaps even some physical altercation before one or the other stormed off. It was a natural process. Truth was they had both been obviously more hurt than either cared to admit when he left all that time ago. So instead of shouting back at her to put in her in her place as he has so intended on doing, the male hesitated seeing the pain in her gaze. Instead he paused, gaze heavy as his expression sobered, anger subsiding as he simply looked at her. “You were a part of the reason, but it wasn’t all your fault Cassie. You didn’t drive me away. I made the decision to leave and I don’t regret it to this day --- I do regret, not smoothing things over with you before I left though.” He answered honestly, sure it wasn’t much and it would change the years of pain he had caused her. But it was something. Not a day had gone past when he was traveling where he didn’t think of her and the way he had left things. “There’s nothing to gloat about. You did what I told everyone you would. Fucking smashed it.” He replied, taking a brief step in her direction to instead settle the crown on her head before he replaced the distance between them. The damage was done, right? “Do what you’ve gotta do then, oh and the guys are over there if you’re still keen on their offer.” He remarked, tone bitter as he turned on his heel. “You may be done, but I’ll never give up on you Cassie.” He added, raising a hand to briefly wipe the smudged lipstick from her bottom lip. Fletcher needed to get away from the blonde before he did something he couldn’t come back from. Something that would change their game forever. After all she was and had always been his best friend. And with that he disappeared into the night.
