as the world caves in | cas

[Claire Evangeline Slater]

never enough.

KNOCKTURN ALLEY HARDLY FELT SAFE ENOUGH for a safe house, but that's what made it so perfect, thought Claire. Flooing in to the darkened street and scrunching her nose in distaste as a gnarled figure nudged her shoulder as they passed, cursing under their breath as they did. It reeked of dark magic in the night. She tentatively moved forward, making a point to stop in at a stall she'd inadvertently ended up at. Buying something innocuous and of low import as if that had always been her intention, in case she was seen. She'd set an invisible string of light only she could see to help lead her in the correct direction when her confusing affliction made her take the odd wrong turn. 

The soft, shadow material of her cloak concealing the bright blonde of her hair as she tucked the phial of manticore hair in to her pocket. Ducking behind the abandoned looking apothecary just a block behind it, dispelling the glowing string in to the mist. From there, Claire could slip in to the gateway for the Poisoned Spindle, entirely out of view and safe from prying eyes. It didn't matter really, everybody in Knockturn Alley looked as if they were up to something. If a figure was seen looping the blocks a few times, well just another typical Friday night. Once inside the covered entryway, Claire could lower her hood and breathe. The scent of dark magic muffled by various burning incense and cleansing herbs.

A soft oil lamp illuminated the end of the hallway, and Claire entered it with confidence, though her wand was drawn just to be safe. It was still Knockturn Alley after all. Tucked in a hidden pocket on the inside of her robes, a fat roll of parchment was secured and concealed. She'd been instructed by Harry to deliver the schematics to the safe house where another Order member would be waiting to take them. No names were given, for safety. Just a safe word and an accompanying answer.

As Claire turned the corner, a single body was sat at a round table in the small, low ceilinged room. Claire lifted her wand defensively, ready to strike. Her face flat and stance wide. "Occamy..." She declared, her voice high and stiff as it carried across the room. The answer was 'argentum' and she waited with baited breath, a stunning spell braced on the tip of her tongue. And then the face came in to focus as the light lickered, and her breath stuttered. It was Cas, she almost shot her stunning hex across the room at the stark realisation. 

Casimir Elias Karkaroff

NEVERLAND at ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0!

[Casimir Elias Karkaroff]

Cas sat hunched over the oil lamp he had brought to the table, which was littered with the evidence of his obsessive, fevered work to repair the magic dampener. Parchment scattered across the table, pages and pages of notes in his cramped handwriting. Letters from his correspondence with various experts in fields he knew very little about. Books casually discarded in a haphazard pile, the titles displaying a wide variety of subjects. Habits of American colonial wizards, charts of Native American runes, unabridged histories of witch hunters. To the casual observer, it might seem like the sorts of books that would be assigned to American history students. To those who knew better, a small number of people who had been clued in to the existence of the magic dampener, they would realize that Cas was slowly discovering its origins – and hidden within these facts, how to repair and use the artifact.

He wasn’t paying any attention to his notes or books, however. Cas’s attention was singularly focused on the small pocket watch in his hands, which he brought close to the oil lamp so the light would reflect off its metallic edges and finely carved features. It was evidence of his triumphant return from the United States, his trip to learn more about the dampener’s Scourer origins. His visit had included a purposeful run-in with some witch hunters, and after careful strategizing Cas had walked away with one of their tools. He was certain that he held the key to repairing the dampener in his hands, that if he could only discover how the pocket watch’s magic worked that he would be able to apply the same elsewhere. He maintained the barest presence at his store so as to not alert suspicion or call unwanted attention to his side project, but the majority of his time was now spent deciphering the puzzle he had been slowly unraveling since January.

The dampener itself resided in a corner of the room on a low end table. Cas had covered it, only to be removed when he intended to examine or take apart its components. He was the most frequent visitor to the safe house, but it was occasionally used by other Order members and Cas didn’t want the secret to spread too fast. Not until he had more to report. Most members of the Order didn’t have a valid reason to be seen in Knockturn Alley, or they found the dark alleyway repulsive and chose to keep their distance. Either way, he intended to use it to his advantage. Still, today was one of the rare days he was expecting company. While Cas preferred to work alone, and only occasionally engaged in group activities if it involved a trustworthy partner (typically his sister or Jasper)…he was sometimes directed towards other missions as well. He went where Harry ordered, after all, although the legendary figure always sought the input of others before making his decision.

Today’s assignment was relatively simple – a transfer. Cas didn’t have the details on what it would include (only something Harry considered relevant to him), but he had very little to do. Another member would enter the safe house, speak the code word, and wait for his response. Then they would presumably hand over the package and leave. It didn’t take too much longer until Cas heard the telltale creak of the door, and he didn’t move from his position of examining the pocket watch in the light of the lamp. Still, he did note the location of his wand on the table, less than an arm’s reach away, and the amount of time it would take to reach it. He didn’t take his eyes off the witch hunter artifact, but his blood froze at the sound of the voice – high and authoritative and so familiar. “Argentum,” he murmured in response, fingers clutching the pocket watch tightly until they were white with stiffness. He finally glanced up to see Claire on the other side of the room, mostly hidden in shadow with her blonde hair gleaming in the light of the lamp and wand raised straight at him. He paused for a moment, swallowing slightly at the realization of who it was, and then said smoothly, “It seems rude to curse someone after only one word. But then you've always been trigger-happy.”

Claire Evangeline Slater

[Claire Evangeline Slater]

never enough.

AS COOL AND INDIFFERENT AS EVER, CAS NEVER really changed. Claire felt her blood begin a gentle simmer at his proximity. The last time she had purposefully seen him had been at the order unification. Where his hand had brushed hers and she'd felt it in her spine. She lowered her grip on her wand slightly, but it stuttered before she dropped it. As if she couldn't quire decide how to proceed. He looked entirely unaffected by her presence, which infuriated her.

"Just for you." She retorted stiffly, her smile thin and cold as she holstered her wand in leather strap at her arm and took a step forward. Of course, she was far too busy monitoring the rise and fall of Cas's chest that she turned with her files and began walking back the way she had come. Stuttering to a stop when she realised, and turning back with her face flaming. "I assume these are for you." She said, sending the files across the room with a quick, non-verbal spell.

They fluttered gently on to the table in front of him. Enough of a distraction so that Claire could watch her feet walk the eight steps to the opposite end of the table. She only looked up when she saw the tables leg under a fringe of hair. It was all about intention, Claire had realised. If she intended to go in one direction, she found herself walking in the opposite. So, to combat that, Claire spent a lot of time watching her feet instead. It helped with straight lines.

"You're looking quite pale," Claire commented when she lifted her head, unable to stop herself. His pallor drawn and milky under the watery oil lamps. "Are you burrowing down here now?" Her lips curled faintly, fingers tapping on the table top. She did not sit down, lest he think she was getting comfortable. Underneath that there was concern, and there was yearning. The echo of a kiss still present on her mouth, even now. 

Casimir Elias Karkaroff

NEVERLAND at ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0!

[Casimir Elias Karkaroff]

Claire looked stiff, but then again she always was to some degree. She was the sort of person who placed an immense amount of pressure on herself to succeed, and who seemed intent to constantly push forward even at risk of falling apart. Cas could admit he admired her drive, how she could constantly deliver results because of an inability to let anything go. It was a valuable trait for the Order – at least that was the bottom line Cas stuck to in offhand comments to Harry – but there was also an attractive edge to how easily she could challenge him, push him towards the edge unlike anyone else. It was an unhealthy fascination, like a moth drawn to an open flame, but that didn’t matter to Cas. No matter how much his pure rational logic screamed that Claire Slater was a bad idea, he couldn’t help the impulse to linger on thoughts of her during ordinary days, or steal subtle glances at Order meetings. Someone would notice soon – Harry or someone else, or even more unwanted attention.

The weight of the pocket watch was familiar in his hands, and he ran his fingers over the runes etched on its surface as he studied her. Her cold smile, the tense set of her shoulders, even the unsteady set of her stance – like she was unsure where she wanted to go. His own face might be a mask, but inside his heart pounded under the stress of appearing casual. He didn’t care about this girl, there was absolutely no reason that memories of her should cause his face to heat up or his hands to curl uncomfortably around the witch hunter artifact and – was she leaving? Cas was on his feet before he realized what was happening, pocket watch discarded onto the table without a second thought as he watched Claire turn around. He was frozen where he stood, uncertain what his instinctual movement had been about…as if he could stop her from doing whatever she had set her mind to.

He swallowed as she turned back to face him and sent the documents toward him with a little flick of her wand. “Who else were you expecting in Knockturn?” he asked, trying to regain the smooth timbre of his voice from a few minutes ago, when he hadn’t cared who might be walking through that door, only that they would be interrupting his work. Despite her cold introduction, there was a rise of color in Claire's face now that betrayed the fact that she was simmering. She had always been so easy to bait, and it had changed from a tentative experiment to an enjoyable pursuit a long time ago. The familiar signs of her rising temper was comforting – some things would never change, even as others had dramatically. Claire had started to drift closer until she’d reached the opposite end of the table, and Cas battled with warring instincts -- to close the distance, or to travel far away where her gaze couldn’t slash right through him.

Cas chose to examine the files she had brought instead of responding to her observation straight away. He waved his wand over the parchment, watching as it opened to reveal its contents – he wondered how many people had been involved in acquiring and delivering these documents, and whether any of them knew their true purpose. His work with the magic dampener was, for now, one of the Order’s biggest secrets, even from its own members. Finally he glanced back up at Claire, and he suppressed a shiver as his eyes caught her sharp blue ones. “Would you be the expert on looking pale?” he asked mildly, lips curling into a faint smirk. “It doesn’t seem Border Patrol agrees with you. Or would that be the island’s influence? Rumor has it you were one of the first there.” Cas ignored the underlying implications of what he had just said – that he hadn’t answered her second question, or that he had all but admitted to listening for news of her from other Order members.

Claire Evangeline Slater

[Claire Evangeline Slater]

never enough.

HE HAD A POINT, OF COURSE. WHO ELSE WOULD be brave enough to linger in the cold dampness of Knockturn but a Karkaroff? She wrinkled her nose anyhow and muttered, "Bit predictable." Unable to stop herself from answering back. Even while avoiding Casimir, she still somehow managed to stumble upon him. Like some kind of cruel joke, the Fate's determined to mortify her while she was at her most vulnerable.

When she finally made it to the table, though it took her a little longer than was necessary, it was to find that seeing Cas up close made her feel no better. The knot in her gut tightening like a flexing fist, fingers restless as she tapped them on the wood rhythmically. Neither of them had every acknowledged what had happened at the shoppe. She wondered if he pretended it never happened, but then they caught eyes and she was frozen in place.

"Maybe," She shrugged slightly, a brief shift of her stiff shoulder, breaking eye contact to rub her chin against the rough spun fabric of her robed shoulder. His curling smirk warming her face in such a way that she couldn't bear to see it. And then he spoke again and the warmth was traded for a chill that raised the hairs at the back of her neck. She was struck again by the reminder that Cas was a trained Occlumens, though she'd never accused him of sifting through her mind before.

"Did-" She stuttered, her face screwing up at a leapt conclusion as she stared at him. "Did you read my mind?" She asked him angrily, her hand snatching out to furiously disturb his precious papers. She made as if to turn away, but turned in to the table instead, her thighs knocking against it painfully so that she bent at the waist with a curse. "Merlin, you can never just mind your own business can you?!" She turned her angry humiliation on him, rather than the table, looking up through a curtain of dishevelled hair. "Just couldn't wait to rub it in." Claire wasn't sure if she meant Border Patrol or her Wyrd-touched sense of direction, perhaps both. She drew in a sobering breath - it didn't work. 

Casimir Elias Karkaroff

NEVERLAND at ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0!

[Casimir Elias Karkaroff]

Well, that was Claire – always jumping to conclusions, even when it required a wild leap to get there. She’d never accused him of doing anything so invasive as reading her mind before, although it had certainly been implied by other Order members in the past. Murmuring to Harry to check if Cas was a Legilimens, or questioning where his loyalties truly were because it couldn't be to the Order. Claire had never done that before, but then again – her outrage didn’t come from panic about Cas accessing sensitive Order secrets. No, she was worried about what he might have seen about her personal life, and he raised his eyebrows at her as he laughed slightly under his breath. “No, I didn't,” he replied calmly, taking comfort from her emotional outburst. Merlin, it was so Claire and it was a relief to see that this at least hadn’t changed between them.

“Besides,” he continued, a challenging note entering his voice, “I’ve never needed Legilimency before to know what’s on your mind.” His voice dropped to a low tone as he stepped closer. She had put some distance between them, as if to walk away, but she’d knocked into the table instead and Cas didn’t know what to make of that. She wasn’t clumsy – inexperienced when it came to the nuances of cursebreaking, maybe, but not clumsy. It was unusual behavior, even as her fiery remarks were quite usual. He brought one hand to her arm in an attempt to steady her, although he inhaled slightly as the touch brought back other memories. He couldn’t help himself, and brought his other hand to run lightly through her blonde locks. It had been much longer the first time they met, although she’d cut it soon after her run-in with that cursed entrance to the castle. Their first time working together. That memory stayed close to the surface of his mind, and his gaze was far away for a second before he returned to the moment between them.

Their eyes locked, and it didn’t feel like Cas was breathing anymore after the distance he’d just closed between the pair. Her last statements were harsh, accusatory, but Cas didn’t care much about that. “You’ve always told me what you think,” he observed, suppressing the urge to swallow. Suppressing the urge to close the distance more. He lowered his hands slowly until the points of contact between them faded away, hating himself for how much of a temptation she was to him. She wasn’t like anything he’d grown up with – pureblood society was secretive, manipulative, and it forced its members to become that way too. But Claire had never been like that. Unlike everyone else in his life, she’d been so straightforward with him – insulting him when she didn’t like something, sharing information when it was relevant (and even sometimes when it wasn’t). She stood out so much in his world. “You’d tell me now, if you had something to say. Wouldn’t you?” His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, but he could see there was something on her mind. Claire was defensive, more than usual anyway, and Cas had always been unnaturally curious about her. Even when his life would be so much simpler if he could just stay away. But he hadn’t managed that yet, and he couldn't now. He hovered close, unwilling to let the distance between them grow even as he wasn't touching her anymore. He forced his eyes to stay locked with her brilliant blue ones, instead of allowing them to drop. Cas could control himself...he hoped.

Claire Evangeline Slater

[Claire Evangeline Slater]

never enough.

IT WAS AN OUT OF POCKET ACCUSATION, CLAIRE had known it the moment she'd said it out loud. His face stilling to an ice cold chill that almost made her shiver instinctively. Every wall and defence lifting so that it felt as if a physical rift had formed between them. He did not take questions of his morality lightly, Claire had figured that out a long time ago. She couldn't deny him such a thing, being the son of Karkaroff, as accusations were fast and easy. She'd been guilty of judgemental assumptions herself, but that didn't excuse her. Claire knew better, but she was frightened.

"I shouldn't have-" The pain in her gut doubling, Claire gripped the tables edge to keep herself steady, a great slump to her shoulders as she felt her frustration build. "That was out of order," She chastised herself, refusing to look him in the eye as she did. This could have been construed as a fear of having her mind read, but it was simply her own ego that couldn't make the climb to his eyes. She focused on the top button of his shirt instead, though when he moved towards her, Claire couldn't help the rapid lift of her chin as she caught his eye involuntarily.

Paralysed by anticipation Claire could do nothing but stare at the hand that clasped her arm to steady her surely. His other hand trapping the air in her lungs as his fingers carded through her choppy blond hair. Her head lolled towards the touch in a starving, lonely manner. Breath stuttering in her lungs as she felt the gentle scratch of fingertips brush her scalp. Her eyes fluttered to his, bottom lip dropping slightly as she wondered if he remembered why she kept it so short nowadays. Though she dared not ask.

"I suppose that's true," She muttered reluctantly, words thick in her mouth. She felt a spiteful regret at agreeing with him, but for once Cas's tone was not a sharp criticism but an actual fact. She felt his palm brush against her ear as he drew himself away and shivered, almost leaning in to him reflexively. One hand coming up to grip the arm that steadied her opposite shoulder before he could let go, but it was more as if she were clinging to him for equilibrium. 

Truthfully, Claire had not realised how centred she felt with Cas so close until he deprived her of his touch once again. She wasn't thinking about losing her way when he sucked all the air out of the space between them, more concerned with the sure brush of his hand through her hair, than about a left or right turn. It made pulling away all the more difficult, and she couldn't help the step she took back towards him, refusing to let the space between them grow beyond reach. It was stupid, Claire knew it, but she craved the sensation.

"Oh, but I have so many things to say," She confessed in a rushed whisper, trapped in his eye. The words bubbling up in her mouth whether she liked it or not. She wanted to ask him about what happened in the shoppe, about the Order and how he really felt Knockturn Alley. Instead, she swallowed each word whole and felt her lips open and shut once before she admitted in a pained rush, "You were right." Her nose scrunched, unable to feign contentment that she was admitting such a thing to him. "I was... cursed on the Island." Her head dropped, hair curtaining her face as it flamed in humiliation. "I can't Apparate properly, I can't walk from the f--king tea room to my desk, I can't breathe..." She gasped, a hand pressing her chest as each word spilled from her mouth unfiltered.

"I'm lost all the time, and I'm scared if I tell anyone they'll put me on leave- I'd- I can't sit at home while the world burns because I've got magical vertigo!" Claire's voice had risen an octave, her head thrown back and flaming red as she gasped helplessly. Claire had not admitted such a thing to another living soul, but it was eating her up and she felt the curse settling in her bones in an almost familiar way. As if her body was making room for it, as if it were there to stay for a long time. Claire couldn't bear it much longer. She looked at Cas desperately as she admitted her fundamental weakness. "I can't fix it- I'm afraid it can't be fixed..." 

Casimir Elias Karkaroff

NEVERLAND at ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0!

[Casimir Elias Karkaroff]

Trust was a sensitive issue for Cas. His motives had been questioned so many times before, and those ugly confrontations left him questioning the level of sacrifice he gave to the Order. His whole life was about filling a need – keeping the Karkaroffs together as they worked to improve their standing, giving the Order the information they needed to combat Dark wizards. Sacrifice was a way of life for purebloods, even if he’d never been the traditional pureblood (despite the performance of a lifetime that he had been putting on for years). Even when the Order had split into factions, and there was no shortage of distrust among its former members…Claire had never accused him of violating that trust. Oh, they had a difference of styles, that much had been obvious from their first mission together. But there were some things that went unspoken between them, that didn’t need to be put into words, and the trust had been there for years.

Claire had a way of pushing through things until she got what she wanted, but as he stepped closer Cas could see the fear in her eyes that she might be close to breaking. It was a vulnerability she didn’t show, one that stayed hidden beneath her anger and righteous fury. She’d lashed out at him so many times before, pulled his temper to the surface until they were both screaming at each other. Maybe that would have driven most people away, but Cas had a dangerous attraction to the things he should stay away from. It sent a shot of adrenaline through him, an electricity in his veins that felt charged and almost tangible – the sort of rush he never found in his careful and orderly world.

He could feel the tips of his fingers twitch as he let go of Claire and let his hands drop back down to his sides, like he wasn’t ready to let her go yet. He knew this was a bad idea – standing close enough that he could see his own reflection in her blue eyes, feel her warm breath raise goosebumps on his skin. He should stay away, it was exactly the sort of advice he would have given Damian if his younger brother would ever have listened to it. In that way they were both so alike – unable to resist what they couldn’t have. But he had never listened to the voice of reason in his head when it came to Claire Slater, that voice that warned him that she could only ever be a complicating factor. No, all Cas knew was that this was the closest they had been in months, and she was looking at him like she could remember the exact last time they’d been alone together, and he could feel the tension between them as easily as he felt the breath he was holding that couldn’t seem to escape.

Her words escaped in a rush, like she couldn’t wait to say everything at once now that she had begun to talk. Cas listened intently, unable to tear his eyes away from her face as he observed the physical toll that the stress had been taking on her. The furrow in her brow, the signs of exhaustion in her face, and the overwhelming panic in her eyes. He understood the sensation, because his visits to the island couldn’t be described as anything less than disturbing. He’d felt out of his element, out of practice, and for the first time…old. He hated the uncertainty that had gripped him, the lack of feeling in control that had become so vital in his everyday life. And now…Cas was always so good at staying uninvolved. He was never one to make a hasty decision and become entangled in a situation that he wouldn’t be able to escape later. But he felt an echo of something in his chest at seeing Claire in pain.

“Claire,” he said firmly, unable to resist the temptation to create more points of contact between them anymore, “Listen to me.” His voice was even, authoritative. The same tone of voice he used in every aspect of his life to ensure that he had the attention of the room. Cas was so used to secrets and this time was no different – he absorbed everything Claire told him and let it settle into the vault of his mind along with every other one. Cas let himself take her hand, resisted the urge to swallow and admit that he couldn’t forget how well they fit together. Instead he looked at her steadily and felt his voice lower as he murmured, “We’ll fix it. If the world starts to burn then you’ll be there to stop it. We'll fix it.” Cas had never learned how to commit himself to anything but his family, but Merlin – Claire made him want to try. 

Claire Evangeline Slater

[Claire Evangeline Slater]

never enough.

CONFESSING FELT LIKE HAMMERING THE LAST nail into her homemade coffin. Claire had tried bottling up what had happened to her, donning the persona of unflappable professionalism. She was a liar, and deep down it had been eating at her. Picked away and revealed to those closest to her, until that veneer felt so unsteady that she was afraid every moment she turned up to work at the Ministry. How would they punish her, she would wonder? Not for being cursed, but for lying about it. She dare not consider it too long, the possibilities far more severe than simple-minded border control.

Telling Casimir felt different than hinting to James, or fighting with Rhys. She knew the type of man he was, this was not something he would brush aside because she wanted him to. No, when she stopped to breathe and lift her head, he did not look anything less than severe. The sound of her name from his mouth made her flinch momentarily, her hands coming to wring in front of her. She swallowed harshly, wondering if he was judging her lack of honesty, or her frayed breakdown. Her face felt raw, stripped clean and shame exposed.

The sure and sudden feeling of his hand tangling with her own made Claire's breath release in a rush, lips shaking and shoulders heaving as she let out a gust of air and dropped her chin to her chest. He was not chastising her right away, he wasn't going to turn around and tell the DMLE head immediately. How strangely gentle he was when he reached over and steadied her once again with the kind hold of her hand, thumb brushing the backside until she felt it like it grounding pulse. 

She crossed her free hand and very carefully grabbed the arm that he held her hand with. Keeping a hold of his fingers, Claire carefully let her other hand move up his outstretched arm until she could find his shoulder, and then the front of his shirt. She gripped it tightly, the sound of 'we' like a bolt to the chest as she pulled and tugged him towards her. When he was finally close enough, Claire allowed herself the vulnerability of hugging Casimir fiercely. Her head was spinning with the first hopeful promise she had been given. 'We'll fix it'. The intimacy of being grouped as a single entity not entirely lost on her as she wrapped her arms up and under his arms so that she could cling to him a bury her face in his shoulder. "I believe you," She whispered, muffled by his shirt. "... thank you." Claire added, almost reluctant in its delivery as she pressed her face so tightly to him that she saw stars. 

Casimir Elias Karkaroff

NEVERLAND at ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0!

[Casimir Elias Karkaroff]

It was a strange dynamic between them. Cas had never been able to put a name to it, and to be honest – he’d never wanted to. He lived his life in that undefinable gray area between things, constantly finding himself pulled apart in two opposite directions. Really, never belonging anywhere because he belonged everywhere. He was the perfect pureblood, the dutiful eldest son that knew his place in the constant dance between families. But he was also the eyes and ears of the Order in Knockturn, constantly watching and adding to his ledgers any number of secrets that could easily get him killed. He was cautious and restrained, the kind to always watch where he stepped and plan a dozen moves ahead. Except for those moments when he threw it all into the wind and just acted.

And, despite being all those things – the head of an ancient pureblood family, playing a high-stakes game that demanded the utmost control from him so that nobody would ever see his weaknesses – he’d fallen for just the worst type of girl for him. She was bold and brash, she acted without thinking, she didn’t know how to wear a mask because his world wasn’t hers and she’d never had any need for it. They seemed to constantly argue, even when they were on the same team, because everything about them was just so contrary, so different. Even now he could see it. The way he could seamlessly blend into the shadows, the way the darkness almost seemed to welcome him – and how she seemed to catch every thin ray of light there was in her pale blonde hair, the soft blue of her eyes. It looked like everything in the room was curving towards her –

And he was too. This idea of being a ‘we’ felt so foreign to him. There was the basic concept of it within his family, a sense of obligation that the Karkaroff siblings felt to each other and to their family legacy. But even there – they were a group of chess pieces that had learned to play together towards a common goal, and yet each piece stood for itself. He’d never been a ‘we’, and the idea of losing any bit of his rationality and common sense to another person and their wants terrified him. But he’d used the word, and even as it escaped him he knew that there wasn’t anything else he meant. Another byproduct of whatever curse Claire had always been able to lay on him. She pulled him closer, and Cas stiffened at the heart-stopping sensation of her arms around him and her head on his shoulder.

Until the moment where he finally asked himself – what if he let himself want it? Just for a second, just to know what that could be like. There was no room for selfishness in his life, not when he had so many commitments that relied on his ability to stay detached. But there was something inside that kept pulling him towards Claire, and for one moment he wanted to explore what it was. So he wound his arms around her waist, felt the warmth of her body and every point of contact between them. And then he pulled back, just the slightest bit, enough that he could bring a hand to tilt her chin up and study her face. Cas had made her a promise – a rare enough occurrence – and he intended to see it through. It had practical advantages to wipe away whatever curse she’d received on the island, but…his heart pounded to think that he was really doing it because he cared about her. More than he cared about most things in his life.

There was that barrier of resistance inside him that warned not to get too close, but Cas pushed it firmly inside and pulled her flush against him as he leaned in to kiss her. His movements were rough as he kissed her hungrily, all thoughts of whatever he’d been doing before she’d entered the room completely wiped from his mind. Everything wiped away except her soft curves under his hands and the feel of his lips on hers. After several moments he broke away panting, just enough so he could murmur against her lips, “You know where to find me…” And then, before he could question himself any further, or give in to any other impulses, he tore himself away and stalked out of the room. He was still dizzy with the desire that made his head spin every time he got close to Claire, but he hoped…he prayed that it would go away soon. There just couldn’t be any other option.

Claire Evangeline Slater
[End post Cas!]

[Claire Evangeline Slater]

never enough.

FOR JUST A MOMENT, CLAIRE'S HEAD WAS FREE of anxieties and stresses. With her arms wrapped tight around Cas, and the weight of his own reciprocated around her, she felt steadier than she had in months. He was like her North point just then, giving her the briefest, most simplistic sense of cosmic balance. It was addictive, and she did consider just never letting go.

Cas pulled away first, and she let out a small sigh, her grip reluctantly loosening before he stopped too soon. Still so close she could feel the heat radiating off of him. She leaned back in silent surprise, her mouth parting as if to ask him what he was thinking, but he didn't give her a chance. His hand coming up surely to tilt her chin up and up. Her eyes widened briefly at the intense look of intent on his face, right before they fluttered closed in anticipation. It was only the second time they had kissed and her heart pounded at the searing quality of it. Their lips fitting together and her hand coming up to wrap around the back of his neck as she pulled herself flush to him with a sharp intake of breath through her nose. Kissing Cas felt like pushing headfirst into a pyre of flames, giddy with the prospect of being charred to the bone.

It was only a moment, barely enough time to deepen it beyond just the clash of biting teeth and tongue before he tore himself from her brutally. She huffed deliriously, her eyes glazed as she felt him pull free of her grip. She felt her face flaming, her mouth sweet and just shy of bruised. He was a cruel man, she thought, to give her just the briefest taste of his proximity before cutting himself off. His voice gruff, but too composed for her liking as he detached himself fully and stormed from the room so quickly she couldn't even watch him go. She was half standing, a protest on the tip of her tongue before she collapsed back into her seat dumbly. How on earth was she supposed to find him? She couldn't even find her way out of the room! She dropped her head hopelessly into her hands.

[CLAIRE END]

Casimir Elias Karkaroff

NEVERLAND at ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0!