James’s face warmed, and some semblance of calmness returned.
“Sorry,” he said. “It’s like I’m constantly on the cusp of falling to pieces.”
“It’s perfectly all right,” Cassian said. “It won’t be forever.”
“And if it is?”
“It won’t be,” he said. “Butif it somehowis, then I will be here tohelp. Always.”
James let out a long breath. Back onTitanic, prior to the sinking, he never would have imagined that Cassian had it in him to be so consistently sweet. James had even thought that it was a slight miracle when Cassian had fetched him a finger of liquor in the Reading and Writing Room. Not that James had ever minded Cassian’s selfishness, though. He’d found it charming. Strangely and intensely charming.
But he was shocked to discover that he found it equally charming when Cassian was like this, too. Attentive. Caring. Considerate. While James liked taking care of Cassian—he loved it, even—he liked knowing that, if and when circumstances called for it, he could rely on Cassian to take care of him as well.
Hit with a heap of fondness and gratitude, James lunged forward, slamming their lips together once more. Cassian chuckled as they kissed, making James’s lips vibrate in the most wonderfully peculiar way, which caused James to laugh a bit, too.
“Thank you, Cassian,” James said. “For everything.”
Humming contentedly, Cassian pecked James’s lips once more, his hand coming to cup James’s cheek again.
“You’re very welcome,” he said.
Cassian swept his thumb across James’s cheek a few times, back and forth, back and forth, and James let himself bask in Cassian’s care for a while, relishing every second.
Eventually, Cassian said, “Come with me to find our people. We have to show them that we’re both still faring well after what we went through on that Goddamned collapsible. I should speak with Ingrid, too, if we see her. Reassure her that her husband did not suffer long.”
James moved to retrieve the clothes that he had dropped earlier, but before he could, Cassian knelt down and scooped them up instead.
“Go on, James,” Cassian said, straightening to stand, holding the heap of filthy clothes. One of James’s socks fell, and Cassian picked it up with his foot, clutching the fabric by curling his toes and flinging it back up onto the pile. “Lead the way.”
Gratitude swelled in James’s chest.
Yes, he really loved having Cassian like this, too.
***
April 15, 1912
3:34 p.m.
Out on the promenade, James stood clutching the ship’s railing and staring off into the distance as Ingrid Calbot’s sorrowful cries echoed in his ears. Only minutes before—or, hell, perhaps longer ago, considering the fact that he had somehow lost the ability to keep track of time—James had listened as Cassian explained to Mrs. Calbot what had happened to her late husband on the ship. And her heartbreak had broken James’s heart, too.
All that time, James had sat nearby silently, Ingrid’s palpable heartache calling forth memories from that fateful night on the water. Soon, James’s heart had begun to race, and he’d started to shake as violently as when he’d first arrived onCarpathia.
Shutting his eyes, James cursed himself for being so weak. He had wanted to be respectful to Jacob. To sit through the story of what had become of the friendly, often-smiling man whom he’dmet on the ship. And he’d wanted to be respectful and strong for Ingrid, as well, as she internalized her loss.
But he hadn’t realized just how painful listening in on that conversation would be for him.
Before leaving to walk Ingrid back to her stateroom, Cassian had noticed James’s shaking, so James knew that once Cassian came back, he’d probably request that James return to their shared stateroom as well. Or, well, knowing Cassian, he’d order James to. It wouldn’t be a request.
“Here we go.”
Cassian’s sudden voice pulled James out of his half-formed thoughts.
“Laudanum,” Cassian said, holding up a small bottle of medication. “It’s stronger than whatever you had before. One of the physicians said that it would help with your shaking. He informed me that it might make you sleepy, too, though, so we’ll head back to the stateroom before you have some.”
“What about Ethel? And John?” James asked.
“After we get you back to the room, I’ll go look for them.”
