* fun tip: play 'I, CARRION (ICARIAN)' BY HOZIER when you see 🎧

" 𝕬nd they're still not here".

Cassie stands in the middle of the empty living room, hands on her hips throwing an irritated glance around the space because Trevor, Maddie, Cole and Alex seem to still be out frolicking somewhere.

"More quiet for us, I guess", Quinn mutters turning on the air conditioner and plopping down on the couch.

Cassie's gaze turns to his seated form, a mischievous smile creeping up her face.

He narrows his eyes.

"What?".

She takes her phone out wordlessly, shuffling towards the portable speaker by the window and stays rooted there for a few minutes.

In the meanwhile, Quinn sits back with his feet up on the coffee table and his stare firm on her back.

He looks at the way her long dark brown hair is piled up in a messy bun on the top of her head — a few strands escaping and slipping down the back of her neck — the way the strong muscles in her back are accentuated under the thin black material of the tanktop, her hips soft and full, the blue flared jeans framing her curves perfectly.

He finds himself mesmerised by the way she shifts her weight from toe to toe, her narrow waist tilting to the side every time.

And her skin, oh lord, her skin looks breathtakingly golden in the yellow light surrounding the living room, and he wishes he could reach out and touch, allow his fingers to trail all over her skin, commit every dip and curve to memory, plant his lips to the hollow of her neck and feel her pulse beat beneath the pressure of his mouth.

He wants to touch her, worship her and fall to his knees for her, fulfill every command.

She has him under a spell and it is devastating just how much he loves it.

Just how much he yearns to be hers and hers alone.

If he had a penchant for wordplay, he would finally let his thoughts grace the paper and turn her beauty into art.

"Quintin".

Quinn startles, looking up with wide eyes as she now stands in front of him, completely unamused.

🎧 I, CARRION (ICARIAN) — HOZIER "

"Huh?".

"Get up. You're gonna dance with me".

"I am?".

"Yes, you are".

"Oh", his eyebrows dip and he realises  a song has just begun playing on the speaker.

Without questioning her — because really he'd do anything she told him to, anything — he gets up to his feet and steps up to her waiting form.

She smiles, grabbing his hands and moving closer.

A low, guitar melody fills the room. Their hands fit together perfectly, the warmth from her right hand seeping through the material of his tshirt, his other hand melting into the dip of her waist as he pulls her closer, their chests flush together.

She glances up through her eyelashes, the small smile flickering at the edges of her lips, her head tilted slightly to consider him with the music pouring out.

"What song is that?", he whispers though he's not sure why, probably to preserve the sanctity of the moment.

"Hozier. You wouldn't know even if I told you".

"Try me".

She presses her lips together in a controlled smile, "I, Carrion".

He blinks, knowing full well that he has no idea what song that is.

"I yield".

A laugh breaks out of her and the urge to bottle up this moment, with his hand low on the small of her back and her hand slipping up his neck, is quite strong.

"Thought so", she smiles brightly, shuffling around in a careless dance as they both move through the area without any care in the world.

Cassie lays her head on his shoulder, slipping her fingers from his grasp to cradle the back of his neck between her palms and Quinn encircles his arms around her body in an embrace.

They both sway to the soft beat, her thumbs gently rubbing circles on the back of his neck and for the first time in a really long time, he allows himself to consider what life would be like if only his heart's deepest desires came true.

In this moment, it feels like he could do anything.

"Go with me to Brady's wedding", his words break the short silence.

She chuckles softly.

"I'm already invited, Quinny".

"No, I mean", he leans back and she brings her head up too, to look at him, "Go with me. Be my date".

Her mouth parts then closes, her features settling into a faint frown.

Her eyes search his for any sign of denial and what she finds instead causes her heart to beat wildly against her chest.

"Are you sure?".

"About you? Always".

She looks away, lips curling, and nods once. Twice.

Then she lays her head back on his shoulder and they resume swaying to the low harmony enveloping them.

***
panthers won the scf and i am at peace, sorry to any oilers fans 🙏