The next week brought a shift in their collaboration. Cassian and Iris worked tirelessly on the project, their communication evolving into an unspoken language of gestures and glances. While their artwork progressed, the growing tension between them remained just beneath the surface, unaddressed but undeniable.
One afternoon, as they finalized sketches in the art room, Cassian's phone buzzed. He ignored it at first, but it kept vibrating relentlessly. Finally, with a muttered curse, he glanced at the screen.
"Gotta take this," he said, standing and walking toward the hallway.
Iris watched him go, his shoulders stiff, his tone clipped as he answered. She caught fragments of his conversation: something about money, responsibility, and a promise. The sharpness in his voice hinted at a deeper struggle.
When he returned, his jaw was tight, his usual playful demeanor replaced with something darker. He didn't offer an explanation, and Iris didn't ask, though the unspoken tension lingered like a storm cloud.
"Let's focus," he said brusquely, pulling out their draft. "We're running out of time, and this needs to be perfect."
Despite his words, Cassian's concentration wavered. He kept rubbing his temples, his frustration bleeding into their work.
Finally, Iris slid her notebook toward him with a single question: What's wrong?
Cassian stared at the note for a long moment before exhaling heavily. "It's nothing. Just… family stuff. You don't want to hear about it."
She tapped her pencil on the page, waiting.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. My mom's been on my case about stepping up. Responsibilities, expectations—everything I'm apparently failing at." His tone was bitter, his words spilling out faster than he intended. "She thinks I'm wasting my time on things like this. Art doesn't pay the bills, you know?"
Iris's chest tightened at the rawness in his voice. She scribbled quickly: Why do you let it get to you?
Cassian gave her a sharp look. "Because she's not entirely wrong. I've got people depending on me, and sometimes… it feels like I'm drowning."
His confession hung in the air, and for the first time, Iris saw the weight he carried beneath his confident facade.
After a long silence, Iris flipped to a blank page and began to draw. Her pencil moved with purpose, her strokes capturing the chaos and vulnerability Cassian had just revealed. When she finished, she turned the sketch toward him.
It was a surreal depiction of a man standing in a rising tide, his feet anchored to the ground while waves crashed around him. The man's face was obscured, but the tension in his posture was unmistakable.
Cassian stared at the drawing, his expression softening. "Is this… how you see me?"
Iris hesitated, then nodded.
A faint smile tugged at his lips. "You're good at this—seeing people for who they really are."
Their moment was interrupted by a knock at the door. Nathan Hayes poked his head in, his smirk as infuriating as ever.
"Well, well, if it isn't the mute and her pet project," Nathan sneered. "Bet you're feeling real special now, huh, Blackwood?"
Iris's hands clenched into fists, but before she could react, Cassian stepped forward, his expression icy.
"Get lost, Nathan," Cassian said, his voice low and dangerous.
Nathan's smirk faltered, but he didn't back down. "What's your deal, Gray? Trying to play hero? You know she's a lost cause, right?"
Cassian's jaw tightened, and for a moment, Iris thought he might punch Nathan. Instead, he took a step closer, his voice steady but cold. "You should leave before I make you."
Nathan hesitated, then scoffed. "Whatever, man. Have fun with your charity case."
When he was gone, the tension in the room finally eased. Cassian turned to Iris, his eyes scanning her face.
"You okay?" he asked softly.
She nodded, though her hands still trembled.
Cassian sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, people like him… they're not worth your energy. You're better than that."
His words were meant to comfort her, but Iris couldn't help feeling a pang of guilt. For all his bravado, Cassian was fighting his own battles, and she was beginning to see just how much he was sacrificing for this partnership.
As they returned to their work, Iris made a silent vow: she wouldn't let Cassian carry the weight alone.