Nate Jacobs & Cassie Howard: In The Dead of Night
Nate had never held Maddy, he had never truly held anyone, he had no desire to. What was the point of a momentary pause, a disruption rather, slipped between much more potentially lustful actions.The concept of physical intimacy outside of sexuality bored Nate to the point that he’d previously never cared to experience something so seemingly undesirable. Perhaps that disdain stemmed from the utter neglect of affection that burdened the pivotal years of his adolescence. In fact, the majority of his previous gestures in courtship had been feigned emulations of tired romantic standards or of tropes popularized by films and television; meaningless boxes of chocolate, hastily selected bouquets, or lingerie which was without a doubt more for his selfish pleasure than his partner’s. Even his dialogue choices within his relationships seemed to fall off the pages of scripted, tired Hallmark movies, mimicking empty lines he’d heard recited before. He would go through the motions vacantly, incapable of feeling a truth to the “love” he had convinced himself was present.
That was however, until he witnessed Cassie Howard cry on New Years Eve; the small of her back pressed tightly against the frame of the door, her baby doll eyes wide with the sheer terror of a circumstansial possibility that had yet to even happen as she desperately searched his gaze, pleading silently with him for guidance as the gentle warmth of her cry began to cascade down upon flushed cheeks. There was danger in the moment and not simply from the pounding fists of his impatient ex girlfriend booming upon the opposing side of the wood of the door; one hasty movement, he felt as if he could crush Cassie entirely as her delicate, nearly angelic head rested between the calloused skin of his two palms, heavy hands instantly softened as his thumb lightly began to stroke the damp flesh of her porcelain cheek. In front of the boy who felt nothing was the girl who felt everything. Nate was entirely fascinated by Cassie; how could something so fragile exist in such an unforgiving world? There was a strength in her that his emotionally stunted youth would forever prevent himself from comprehending fully but he felt deeply privileged to witness her as she was truly art.
He felt a sacred power in familiarizing himself with her fragility and knew without hesitancy that from that moment onward, he would go to any length to protect her exquisite vulnerability.
Any length including facing the demons head on that his father had left scattered in his wake. Laying to rest the inherited shame of his past enough to attempt to dig out any fraction of a heart he had buried under his aggressive, guarded exterior in order to allow Cassie in would be essential to embarking forward into this new chapter with her. Perhaps to an outsider, seemingly spontaneously moving this girl into his home cloaked in the dark shadows of the midnight hour would be an act of extremity but to Nate, it was strategically calculated planning, the culmination of his unconventional personal redemption arc and above all, it was the next logical step in protecting her. She belonged to him, that he knew from the moment she smiled in his direction from the moonlight stained passenger seat of his truck that fateful night, but what was completely uncharted territory for the football star was that for the first time in his life, he felt as if he irrevocably belonged to another in return. 38 missed calls later and he had not recoiled from her affection, and be it Maddy, he knew his phone would have been thrown across the room after berating her for her impatience. He needed Cassie close, all of her, in every form and as her palms frantically pushed against his brawny frame, he knew what it felt to yearn to hold another, to simply exist in the peace of the aftermath of the skepticism and judgment and pain they had trudged their way through to end up there in that moment, alone together in his bedroom, or rather for the foreseeable future, *their* bedroom. His eyes fluttered to a brief close, cherishing the rarity of this experience he felt he had waged a lifelong war with himself to reach. Nate’s lips fell upon the crown of her head, pressing a deep, lingering kiss upon the golden strands of her hair, trailing his lips downward to land steadily upon her forehead. As he seemingly towered over her, his body slumped slightly to match her height, his arms remained enveloped around her petite figure, holding her, *actually holding her* without the thought to rush forward to whatever came next. He needed her to feel safe and Nate Jacobs ached to be her safety. Replacing his lips with his forehead, he ran his palms upward, tracing over the fabric of her clothing until they settled into place upon her cheeks, his gaze immediately taking hers.
“I…think you may be my fucking world, Cassie.”
His tone was low and gruff yet inquisitive, almost as if he was discovering the depth of his emotional attachment as he spoke.
“I’m not a good person, Cassie, that is no secret. It’s always been me against the world but for some fucking reason, I need you by my side. I’ve done things you couldn’t even begin to fathom….but the way you look at me, this blind faith you have in me…I have this desire to do it all a little differently now.”
The last letter of his sentence lingered in the settled quiet of the room and he searched her expression for any concept of her reaction to this hurricane they had found themselves in the eye of.
