[Preface: Slightly non-canon one-shot about Cassie and Sid from Skins. My own little setting, captivating their oddly adorable, yet barely existent magnetism. Men are not bright, friends. ;P]
~ ~ Cassie ~ ~
Nervous butterflies flutter wildly within her stomach, vibrant against the hollow walls that she tortures so. Pain for beauty, starvation for beauty, neglect for beauty. Large eyes, outlined in bright purple shadows, stare enviously at a girl sitting nearby with her boyfriend – so obviously in love, so obviously engrossed in one another. She is tall, beautiful, with dark features and a slender waist. Lips purse as Cassie stares, transfixed. Envy, the desire to purge, swelters within her. But she cannot, she must not!
Sid would never approve.
The sound of the front door to the tiny corner tea shop brings her attention to spiral, glancing over her shoulder. Brilliant smile of slightly crooked teeth, pure white, is bestowed as he approaches. "Sid, oh, hey," she greets him, the tone of her voice almost questioning, vague – as though she had not expected to see him (though their date had been planned some days before).
Vacancy in the form of a half-smile is her only greeting.
~ ~ Sid ~ ~
Michelle. Beautiful, perfect Michelle. She is his best friend's girl, his lover, his prize. Tony has won the heart of Michelle, and he is the one to deserve her affection. Tony, his hero, his best friend, his role model. Tony is everything he wants to be, everything he aspires to become. Smart, good-looking, smooth; Michelle's boyfriend. Perfect.
There she sits, Cassie – such an odd yet charismatic and passionate soul. She adores him, loves him even. Her large eyes study his every move, worshipping every action he commits.
But he is blind to it; naïve. She is not Michelle – she is not the one he wants. Is she?
~ ~ Cassie ~ ~
She shifts in her seat, studying him. "Lovely to see you, lovely," she tells him as he sits across from her. She studies him a moment, noting his downcast features. "Oh, Sid," she says quietly, "are you okay Sid? You look, oh, you look so sad." She shifts again, trying to subdue the jealousy. She notes he looks up, staring in the direction of the couple beside them. Beautiful perfection – just like Michelle. "Oh, look Sid, I'm so glad you came. It's lovely, really, just lovely, don't you think? It's been so long, hasn't it Sid?" She fiddles with her fork, then with a piece of bread; breaking it into a thousand pieces, crumbling between her fingertips.
Delicate beauty, she cannot eat! Must suppress the urge to break down.
She stares at him, head tilting to the left side as silence greets her. Still. Panic swells within her chest and she fiddles out of anxiousness. Left hand rustles its way through her hair, fingering the gnarls that settle within the mass of blonde, unruly curls. "My dress, it's new. Do you like it, Sid? I thought it was lovely but on me I'm not sure." She presses, digging further, seeking something – a compliment? A word of greeting? To this point, anything.
~ ~ Sid ~ ~
Blank stare finally yanks itself into reality, flush rising to his cheeks as he realizes Cassie is staring at him imploringly. "I – I'm sorry Cass. What?" He furrows his brows as the words process. "Oh yes, the dress, it looks fine on you Cass. What are you talking about?" He tries to clear the words, but he cannot help but think – it would look better on Michelle. Michelle with her curves, her long legs, pretty smile, perfect teeth.
Such a fool; such a wayward bastard he is – to judge, to mentally criticize one who cries out – someone who so obviously just needs a loving hand to guide her way!
His cell phone goes off within the depths of his pocket and he digs it out, staring at the screen. "Tony." He says the word in a tone of exalting nature – as though worshipping a god. Cassie's wrinkled nose, a sign of her distaste, goes unnoticed, ignored. "I gotta go Cass, somethin' is up with Tone. You understand, right?"
Without another word he bolts from the table, disappearing.
~ ~ Cassie ~ ~
Alone she sits, so alone, so morose.
"Sure," she whispers to herself (though who is there to hear her?), vacant expression filling her hollow eyes. "Just lovely, Sid. Just fuckin' lovely you are." She slams her hands down upon the table, disrupting the couple beside her. Bewildered by her own antics, she offers them a casual, vague smile. "Sorry, so sorry. Lovely night, no? Enjoy it. Enjoy it," she repeats before she stands from the table.
Crumbs fall from her hands to the table, to the floor – scattering as the pieces of her heart shatter too.
Forgotten, negelected; just a girl crying out in desperation. Just a girl crying out for someone to save her from her own demise – this hell she creates for herself.
Nobody notices, nobody cares.
- f i n -